Cropsworth was a large farming community, somewhere down the southern parts of the world that acted like one of the few largest suppliers of food, hides and wool to the rest of the world. Large areas of flatland, a lack of trees and rocky peaks that acted as a natural barrier between Cropsworth and the lands to the west, where mainly Orcs lived. Homes were uncommon here. Most of these lands were occupied by farms who owed at least three fields to themselves. In the middle of it all ran a lonely road that lead to the one place that could be seen as the village, for there were at least five houses to be found there, one of them being an inn that bears 'The healthy harvest' as name.
This tiny village was known as Marketstead, where the farmers of many different races would come together to form a market and sell their excess goods to either each other or travelers passing through. Today there were more stalls than there were hovels.
The farmers selling their goods were clearly panicked today and wanted to get rid of their harvest as quickly as possible. Some of the vegetables and barley for sale wasn't even fully grown yet. It was easy to see what got these men and women spooked, though. Even from Marketstead one could see the giant pillars of blue ice looming in the distance.
Those who wandered the village were mainly farmers. It was easy to distinguish the inhabitants of Cropsworth from most others. Due to the lack of trees and the constant heat of the sun, the farmers were extremely tanned. Even Orcish farmers found themselves to have a darker shade of green.
Inside the inn, there were many people. It was a small inn with only a few tables, chairs and even the hearth looked pitifully small. A human man with a long brown beard and a large belly, sweating like a pig, tended to the people's needs. Surprisingly, though, very few of them were farmers.
Most looked like scholars, wandering around wearing long robes and carrying around papers, ink and quill. No doubt they were interested in the strange formation of ice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. These people were armed as well, albeit with simple weaponry like a shortsword or a dagger. They too knew of the creatures wandering the ice.
Others looked more like the adventurous type. After all, the farmers didn't sit by idly while snow and ice claimed their income. A farmer by the name of Ike Sullivan gathered his fellow workers around and spread out pleas for help. These messages got very far, further than they expected, in fact. It read as follows;
"Dear reader,
Cropsworth is in dire need of your help. The bread basket of the world is about to be no more if our problems persist! A bitter cold is claiming our crops. Yet this is no natural cold. Someone or something has caused this, for the ice refuses to melt in the sun. To make matters worse, strange creatures wander over the fields we once called home. We cannot search the cause of this issue on our own because of this!
We offer a generous reward to the people who will come to our call for arms. The cold hasn't spread very far as of now, but we fear it will soon claim the entirety of Cropsworth. Those brave enough to come to our aid, look for the marketstall called 'Golden Apple' in Marketstead. I will be there to explain everything in detail.
Signed, Ike Sullivan.
And so, Ike stood behind his stall. He was a young Halfling with a shaggy head of brown hair and wearing red overalls. By the looks of him, he looked like either a poor fellow or a hard worker. Still, any adventurers would have to come check in by him to start their adventure.
This tiny village was known as Marketstead, where the farmers of many different races would come together to form a market and sell their excess goods to either each other or travelers passing through. Today there were more stalls than there were hovels.
The farmers selling their goods were clearly panicked today and wanted to get rid of their harvest as quickly as possible. Some of the vegetables and barley for sale wasn't even fully grown yet. It was easy to see what got these men and women spooked, though. Even from Marketstead one could see the giant pillars of blue ice looming in the distance.
Those who wandered the village were mainly farmers. It was easy to distinguish the inhabitants of Cropsworth from most others. Due to the lack of trees and the constant heat of the sun, the farmers were extremely tanned. Even Orcish farmers found themselves to have a darker shade of green.
Inside the inn, there were many people. It was a small inn with only a few tables, chairs and even the hearth looked pitifully small. A human man with a long brown beard and a large belly, sweating like a pig, tended to the people's needs. Surprisingly, though, very few of them were farmers.
Most looked like scholars, wandering around wearing long robes and carrying around papers, ink and quill. No doubt they were interested in the strange formation of ice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. These people were armed as well, albeit with simple weaponry like a shortsword or a dagger. They too knew of the creatures wandering the ice.
Others looked more like the adventurous type. After all, the farmers didn't sit by idly while snow and ice claimed their income. A farmer by the name of Ike Sullivan gathered his fellow workers around and spread out pleas for help. These messages got very far, further than they expected, in fact. It read as follows;
"Dear reader,
Cropsworth is in dire need of your help. The bread basket of the world is about to be no more if our problems persist! A bitter cold is claiming our crops. Yet this is no natural cold. Someone or something has caused this, for the ice refuses to melt in the sun. To make matters worse, strange creatures wander over the fields we once called home. We cannot search the cause of this issue on our own because of this!
We offer a generous reward to the people who will come to our call for arms. The cold hasn't spread very far as of now, but we fear it will soon claim the entirety of Cropsworth. Those brave enough to come to our aid, look for the marketstall called 'Golden Apple' in Marketstead. I will be there to explain everything in detail.
Signed, Ike Sullivan.
And so, Ike stood behind his stall. He was a young Halfling with a shaggy head of brown hair and wearing red overalls. By the looks of him, he looked like either a poor fellow or a hard worker. Still, any adventurers would have to come check in by him to start their adventure.
Time away from her friends had made Nis a little bit more reserved. She had been travelling alone for weeks. Maybe for a few months at this point. She still braided her hair over her ears to hide them and she made no mention of her heritage to strangers.
As she entered Cropsworth, she felt a twinge. Something was happening here and she would help. It wasn't so much a psychic connection, but it was a sense of foreboding, brought on by the way the town acted around her.
She didn't go into the Inn at first, instead she looked around, holding a Barovian coin in her hand. She knew it would be useless to spend, but it gave her some comfort, like a connection to her old life. She watched people bustle around and she looked at their faces. The fear.
She finally made her way into the Inn, holding her staff tightly. People scared her still. She didn't walk to the bar first. She had rations, she preferred those and she didn't drink.
Instead she looked at the people inside, listening to them, hesitating. She checked her hair and glanced around again. She stepped outside of the Inn, trying to psych herself up to talk to a couple of people.
As she entered Cropsworth, she felt a twinge. Something was happening here and she would help. It wasn't so much a psychic connection, but it was a sense of foreboding, brought on by the way the town acted around her.
She didn't go into the Inn at first, instead she looked around, holding a Barovian coin in her hand. She knew it would be useless to spend, but it gave her some comfort, like a connection to her old life. She watched people bustle around and she looked at their faces. The fear.
She finally made her way into the Inn, holding her staff tightly. People scared her still. She didn't walk to the bar first. She had rations, she preferred those and she didn't drink.
Instead she looked at the people inside, listening to them, hesitating. She checked her hair and glanced around again. She stepped outside of the Inn, trying to psych herself up to talk to a couple of people.
The potential for reward and adventure was more than enough to persuade Luna to join these endeavors. Travel was something she couldn't stop doing, for more than one reason. Her search for a mage powerful enough to remove the complex "curse" (which, really, it wasn't such a thing) drove her into constant travel, while her own terrible temper and inability to not cause trouble urged her when the curse otherwise didn't.
She got here earlier this day, and it was evident how spooked these people were the moment she saw them. They made no efforts to hide their fears and concerns! Which, really, wasn't their fault and she didn't think of them any less for it. Still, she did seem to have a sort of distaste for the people here who seemed very capable. If they all banded together, couldn't they search for the source? Nah, they still had crops to tend to. And this seemed like a pretty big family-oriented civilization too. Maybe they wouldn't want to risk losing their loved ones? Understandable.
The Elf found herself overthinking things again, and decided just to settle back into her own corner in the tavern at the bar, sipping on some hot tea and flipping through a black book, a book with very little to see in it. A book of spells. Heavy drinker, eh?
The woman may not stand out much. Her ears sure did though, dear lord in heaven what the hell is up with that?! Those things were as long as a baby's arm! Stood straight out instead of against her head! Maybe it wasn't so attention-grabbing, but they sure looked odd. As Nis'Tianes entered, she just barely tilted her head toward the girl to catch a glimpse of who was entering. It wasn't any of her business, but curiosity never heart anybody! Well actually, that's a lie. It does quite often.
She got here earlier this day, and it was evident how spooked these people were the moment she saw them. They made no efforts to hide their fears and concerns! Which, really, wasn't their fault and she didn't think of them any less for it. Still, she did seem to have a sort of distaste for the people here who seemed very capable. If they all banded together, couldn't they search for the source? Nah, they still had crops to tend to. And this seemed like a pretty big family-oriented civilization too. Maybe they wouldn't want to risk losing their loved ones? Understandable.
The Elf found herself overthinking things again, and decided just to settle back into her own corner in the tavern at the bar, sipping on some hot tea and flipping through a black book, a book with very little to see in it. A book of spells. Heavy drinker, eh?
The woman may not stand out much. Her ears sure did though, dear lord in heaven what the hell is up with that?! Those things were as long as a baby's arm! Stood straight out instead of against her head! Maybe it wasn't so attention-grabbing, but they sure looked odd. As Nis'Tianes entered, she just barely tilted her head toward the girl to catch a glimpse of who was entering. It wasn't any of her business, but curiosity never heart anybody! Well actually, that's a lie. It does quite often.
Bharash came riding into the village on his giant lizard, together with his Orcish friend Raagar. The dragonborn took a deep sniff of the country air "Ah, refreshing. I can almost taste the adventure." he said in his loud, booming voice to Raagar and he traced his rather large tongue across his teeth. He gave his mount a sturdy pat on the side "Though I might have to leave you behind here when we go. Cold and lizard don't combine well." Bharash laughed. James the lizard hissed as if in accordance with the statement.
Among the many scholars who travelled to Cropsworth for the mysterious ice-spires was a rather small petite black-furred jackal in elegant blue robes and a fitting blue wizard hat. It was as cold as she had anticipated, and was glad she had donned her robe with the wool-tipped sleeves and turtleneck. A tiny curious ferret sat on her shoulder looking with great interest at the various travelers that this strange occurrence had attracted.
Anukha could write a book on the amount of theories she had on the cause of this event, and only more formed as she stared at them in the distance. But then her view was blocked by a large lizard who came up in front of her and dropped off the dragonborn warlord. With a huff and a sneer the magician put her hands in her sides and stepped closer to the lizardman. “Excuse me.” She began, a bit irritated but she kept her voice polite. “Well another adventurer I see, and dragonborn? The word is spreading fast I see.”
Anukha could write a book on the amount of theories she had on the cause of this event, and only more formed as she stared at them in the distance. But then her view was blocked by a large lizard who came up in front of her and dropped off the dragonborn warlord. With a huff and a sneer the magician put her hands in her sides and stepped closer to the lizardman. “Excuse me.” She began, a bit irritated but she kept her voice polite. “Well another adventurer I see, and dragonborn? The word is spreading fast I see.”
Raagar rides at Bharash's left flank, his armored warboar almost as still and stoic as he is. The orc pulls his steel great helm from his head and tucks it lazily under an arm, mostly controlling the boar with his knees at this point. He gives the air an experimental sniff. "Are you sure you will be alright in the cold as well, friend?" the orc says. His tone is flat like iron, but Bharash should recognize the slightest hint of jest.
As the slender jackal approaches the dragonborn, Raagar's face steels again. He heels the boar a couple steps forward, falling into place alongside Bharash. The top of Anukha's head would barely come to the middle of the boat's armor-plated chest. The animal disciplined animal doesn't make one false move, not even a slight shifting of weight unless its rider deems it acceptable. "Two, mistress," the orc calls down to her. "Hopefully the word has spread fast enough for us to do some good here. And what have all you scholars done to help so far, hmm? Slain any of the icebeasts yet?"
As the slender jackal approaches the dragonborn, Raagar's face steels again. He heels the boar a couple steps forward, falling into place alongside Bharash. The top of Anukha's head would barely come to the middle of the boat's armor-plated chest. The animal disciplined animal doesn't make one false move, not even a slight shifting of weight unless its rider deems it acceptable. "Two, mistress," the orc calls down to her. "Hopefully the word has spread fast enough for us to do some good here. And what have all you scholars done to help so far, hmm? Slain any of the icebeasts yet?"
Ah yes, there were many adventurers to be seen, though it was clear which generation of farmers could actually appreciate them being here. The elders felt very uncomfortable about how crowded their little gathering place had become."This mercenary idea is foolish." An older looking human with a bald head and thick beard said to one of his friends, sitting with a mug of ale at a table."They're just going to die, and the blood will be on our children's hands. We had to simply wait for the kingdom to send aid. Surely they care for their food supplies?" They spoke loud enough for those who were listening in the tavern to hear.
The bald man's partner, an Orcish farmer, seemed more angry. Though this was because of the high number of scholars."So what if they die? No one forced 'em to do anything. It's these bloody scholars that have to pack up 'n leave. What are they doing besides sitting inside all day and draining our mead supply?"
For the most part, both Nis'Tians and Luna wouldn't get many strange looks, though Luna might hear the occasional child commenting about the size of her ears. Elves weren't uncommon, though most were passerby and so the farmers didn't pay them any second glances.
The people who would truly get gazed at were Anukha and Bharash. Beastmen and -women as well as Dragonborn were extremely uncommon around these parts and were mostly only part of stories of lands far away. Bharash riding a giant lizard didn't exactly help either. It caused a small number of peasants to clutch their tools a little tighter, just in case that beast might get hungry and run rampant. Some of the farmers looked even more afraid of such a beastly sight, though most were guessing they were here to come to their aid and would move on. Even Raagar would get curious looks, though most were meant for his mount rather than the Orc himself.
The stalls looked glum, but a certain Halfling boy looked hopeful. Surely these heavily armored warriors weren't simple passerby travelers. He decided to wave his arms as high as he could."Hey! Sirs! Over here!" He'd cry out to them, not realizing there were more people around who'd come for the exact same reason as Barash and Raagar.
The bald man's partner, an Orcish farmer, seemed more angry. Though this was because of the high number of scholars."So what if they die? No one forced 'em to do anything. It's these bloody scholars that have to pack up 'n leave. What are they doing besides sitting inside all day and draining our mead supply?"
For the most part, both Nis'Tians and Luna wouldn't get many strange looks, though Luna might hear the occasional child commenting about the size of her ears. Elves weren't uncommon, though most were passerby and so the farmers didn't pay them any second glances.
The people who would truly get gazed at were Anukha and Bharash. Beastmen and -women as well as Dragonborn were extremely uncommon around these parts and were mostly only part of stories of lands far away. Bharash riding a giant lizard didn't exactly help either. It caused a small number of peasants to clutch their tools a little tighter, just in case that beast might get hungry and run rampant. Some of the farmers looked even more afraid of such a beastly sight, though most were guessing they were here to come to their aid and would move on. Even Raagar would get curious looks, though most were meant for his mount rather than the Orc himself.
The stalls looked glum, but a certain Halfling boy looked hopeful. Surely these heavily armored warriors weren't simple passerby travelers. He decided to wave his arms as high as he could."Hey! Sirs! Over here!" He'd cry out to them, not realizing there were more people around who'd come for the exact same reason as Barash and Raagar.
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