Our story begins in the town of Good Mead. It is two days before the new moon and speaker Kendrick Reilsbarrow was killed when a verbeeg came and stole three casks of the towns famous mead. Speaker Rielsbarrow had attempted to stop the giant and was stabbed with a spear. The town milita sent five members out but they have yet to return.

The population are preparing for their sacrifice of warmth to the Frostmadien as well as holding an election of a new speaker. Despite all this the air is still a buzz with the bees that provide the honey to make the mead.

Points of interest for visitors are the mead hall and the Shrine of the Flaming Sword, a shrine of Tempus.

You are just entering Good Mead, through one of the road or from the forest, for what reasons you may have. Go ahead and introduce yourself and state where you are heading.

The chill in the air felt especially crisp this morning. At least, that's what the cloaked tiefling tried to convince himself into believing to ease his nerves. Kythor hadn't set foot in a city in quite some time: anytime that the tribe was in need of supplies and a run to the town needed to be made, it was always someone else who was sent. Not that he minded at all. All the noise of the city irritated him, and everywhere he looked, he quietly wondered to himself how much of the natural world had to be sacrificed to bring this vision to life. Within his own tribe, the rule was that one only took as much as necessary and gave back when they could. Much of what he saw just entering the town itself seemed to be excessive. He could only imagine it would get worse the further he continued into the heart of the town...

As the tiefling wandered the streets to familiarize himself with the immediate area, one question floated to the top of his mind. Why had he come here? He himself wasn't sure. Perhaps it was because he'd spent so much time alone in the wilderness that he'd just about forgotten how nice it was to have someone else to talk to. Maybe it was because something - or someone - had ravaged his campsite while he had gone hunting several days ago, picking it completely clean. It could have even been because this was the first conscious, free action he'd taken in weeks, one unburdened by the lofty ideals of his tribe's elders. In his heart, he believed all three of these suggestions held a nugget of truth to them.

After a bit of quiet contemplation, Kythor's eyes finally settled on the town's mead hall. Only two places of interest had caught his attention: the town's mead hall, and a shrine to Tempus. Kythor had never held much reverence for the gods himself, and saw no reason to start now. Visiting the town mead hall, however, seemed a much more appropriate choice. He was a stranger in a strange land within the city of Good Mead - it was only logical that he head there first to educate himself on recent events, the people he should acquaint himself with, as well as any other useful tidbits of information he could pick up. After all, who knew how long he would have to stay here?

"No sense in wastin' away outside in the cold," Kythor muttered to himself. "What are you waitin' for? A written invitation?" Adjusting his bow so it was strung more comfortably around his chest, the tiefling approached the mead hall.

The halfling rubbed his hands together, and breathed on them for warmth.
He had been traveling for days in this god awful weather, looking for a sign of civilization.
Jitter hasn't had the best of luck recently, he ran afoul of some crazed hungry kobolds who chased him for a whole day.
"This damn blasted weather is a curse to the living."
He had thought of giving up to the kobolds, at least he would be warm, even if he was their warm meal.
Smoke from a chimney had been his savior, as he pressed on, fast as his little legs would go.
Jitter made it to the small town of Good Mead, and headed for the nearest tavern for a warm meal, warm mead, and well, just plain warmth.
Upon entering the Tavern known as Mead Hall, the little man quickly moved about the patrons, dodging in and out of their legs until he made it to the fireplace.
" Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh" he exclaimed as he bent over and rubbed his tushy, feeling the warmth of the fire.
"Barkeeper, I'd like a nice warm bowl of stew and a tall mug of apple cider."

The inside of the mead hall is warm and the droning of bees can be heard through the walls. The smell of fermenting honey hangs in the air as well. The handful of patrons there seems to pay little attention to those that walk in. One is bundled up half elf reading through a book, there are two humans sitting in another corner near the fire, and a dwarf and a gnome sitting in a corner near the other side of the hearth.

The barkeep, an older human woman, does watch each person as the enter giving a slight nod. "One bowel of knucklehead stew and a cider. Total is 2 silver. Anything else?" She begins pouring the cider and getting the bowel stew ready

Jitter smiled innocently,"Well, I'm a little short on funds, but me being a gambling man, I'll roll you for it?"
The halfling removes a set of dice from his pocket, and places them on the table.
"Ladies first." he says gesturing towards the dice.
If the barkeeper takes him on in his dice roll, Jitter will use slight of hand +7 to switch to his loaded dice when it's his turn to roll, (14+7=21) Barkeeper Perception versus my 21 to see Jitter cheat. roleplayerguild.com/rolls/22106
roleplayerguild.com/rolls/22107
Deception +2, rolled a 9=11 total

The woman frowns slightly. "Normally I don't wager my food against someone who wants to eat. If your that short on funds you might want to find some work." She sets the bowel of fish stew on the counter next to the cider. "I'll tell you what, give me a silver and we can play for the other if you insist."

The faint buzz of bees and the scent of honey in the air alone was enough to ease some of the tension Kythor had built up when he entered. When the warmth of the blazing hearth engulfed him, what little tension remained vanished into nothingness. A contemplative and wry smile crossed Kythor's face. This area somehow both managed to fit in with and subvert his expectations. When he was a child, he once asked the elders of the tribe what the luxuries of civilization held. Many of them talked of halls like this, filled to the brim with drunkards and thugs. So far, that image seemed to be wholly false. A quick skim of the place revealed that everybody seemed to be busying themselves with conversation or a bit of reading. The atmosphere seemed a lot calmer than what he had expected when he came in. Whether that would be soon to change, however, he could not say.

Now would be a good time to start learning about this town and the people in it, Kythor thought to himself. He didn't know how long he was going to be staying in town, but he knew that regardless of how long he planned to stay, he needed money. Perhaps a lot of it to replace what he lost. He knew the people were willing to pay for the kinds of services he could offer, skills that the common folk of the city lacked themselves. Healing, scouting, hunting... Although he mourned that few in the city possessed any degree in skill in these matters, he was content enough with the fact that their loss would be his gain.

Perhaps the barkeep could send me in the right direction. Kythor began to approach the bar. When he saw the halfling race up to the bar before him, he slowed, and when the two began to talk he halted. So as to not interrupt, he quietly took a seat beside the halfling to wait, offering the two a friendly, albeit tired smile. It wasn't until a moment later he realized he'd left his facial covering on. With a slightly embarrassed grunt, Kythor quietly pulled the cloth down from his face. He gave them another friendly, somewhat more tired smirk, before leaning back in his seat to bask in the soothing warmth of the mead hall.

The young half-elf woman wasn't sure she'd ever get used to the smells. Kendra came from the city, and certainly the city could smell, but with enough time and repetition of the same routine she could adapt. The experience of being on the road, being in the wild, confronting new sights and sounds and smells constantly... it was all a bit unpleasant.

But a little unpleasantness was a small price to pay for continued living.

If there was one thing she excelled at, it was putting on a face, not letting the many cracks in her armor show. She did so as she entered the mead hall, not surprised to find that it was where the majority of people in this little outpost came to warm themselves as the day went on. She exhaled a quiet sigh of relief as the warmth washed over her, and she pulled back her hood, revealing shoulder length and straight dark brown hair. Her leather gloved hands withdrew beneath her cloak again as she crossed her arms, observing the scene inside. A quiet and peaceful table seemed unlikely given the modest size of this place, but perhaps she could at least find decent company to spend a meal with.

A queue seemed to be forming for the barkeep, so Kendra joined it, coming to a quiet stop behind a devilkin, visibly armed. Most people were out here, so she paid him little mind. Tieflings were hardly the strangest thing to see on a frontier like this. Kendra instead focused on the conversation happening at the bar, or perhaps anything else that caught her ear nearby.

Perception check? 13.

@Lurking Krog
Deception Roll 12+2=14 total
roleplayerguild.com/rolls/22109
Jitter choked back the tears, as he sobbed into his arm,covering his face.
"Ma'am if I only could spare a silver, but you see, I was mugged by kobolds on the way here."
He reached out and took a hold of her apron, blowing his nose.
" Thank you...*sniff* , that is why i was wanting...*sniff* to roll you for it."
" If I were to lose, I'd work it off, cleaning dishes or sweeping the floor."
"Won't you please give me a chance, I'm awfully hungry." begged Jitter.

The woman pulls back quickly from Jitter, partially in disgust and offense from him just grabbing her apron. "Well if your willing to work I do not have much for you aside from scrubbing pots. Now take the bowel and the cider and when you are done we can see about settling the tab.

She tosses the soiled apron aside and pushes the bowel of stew and cider to Jitter. The stew was hot, smelling mostly of tubers fish and salt. The cider was chilled and slightly dry to the taste.

Once that was done she turns to the tiefling that had just entered."What can I get for you?"

Off to the side, the half-elven woman puts the books down to see what was going on at the counter.

With little else to do but listen in, Kythor couldn't help but overhear the plight of the halfling. Robbed by kobolds? One must always be careful when traveling in these parts. Many people underestimate the danger of this land, and it seems that this poor fellow was no exception. "These lands're harsh and unforgiving," Kythor said, giving the halfling a somewhat sympathetic frown. "Much like how the wolves find safety in packs, travelers unsuited to these lands oughta find their own safety in numbers. I would suggest findin' a guide if you plan on staying much longer. I'd be willin' to lend you a hand myself, but as you said, you don't have a silver to your name. Sorry." For a moment, he internally debated paying off the halfling's tab, before deciding against it... for the moment. The two had already arranged what he felt like was a fair deal. No need to intervene.

With that, he turns to the barkeep. "I'll have some of the stew as well, as well as a mug of mead," Kythor said, resting his arms on the bar. "My journey here was long. Felt like I walked about twice as far as I should've," he chuckled. "I could do with somethin' to warm me up." He'd never been one for drinking, but the chill of the outside still crept through his body. Besides, they wouldn't call the town Good Mead if the mead wasn't good, right? At the very least, if it wasn't good, he hoped it was cheap.

"Three silver for the meal and drink." The barkeep turns to grab another bowel to fill with the stew. She quickly returns with the bowel filled nearly to the brim, and with a mug of the honey wine for the tiefling. The stew smelled of tubers, fish, and salt. The mead was sweet smelling and slightly thick.

"Let me know if you need anything else.

What can I get you?" she asked the next person in line.

"More of the same," Kendra answered, ready with her three silver. She didn't expect any of the food here to be ideal, but she had to get something down to keep up her strength, and the mead at least could warm her up.

In truth she was more interested in what she'd overhead the tiefling mention, and as soon as she had her meal and her drink she pursued him, finding an open spot at his table. "You're a guide, you said? I'm new to these parts, trying to get my bearings. I don't need an escort, but some information would be brilliant. What do you say, few questions for a few silver?"

"Right then, be right back with your bowel."

The woman stepped back to grab another bowel and to fill another tankard with mead. "Three silver please."

There are three open tables, one close to the door, another half way to the hearth, and one against the left wall near a small window. The one halfway to the hearth is near the half-elven woman, the next to the door has no one near it, and the table by the window is close the two humans.

After finishing his meal, Jitter got up and walked over to the gnome and dwarf.
"Greetings friends, may I sit with you?"
Jitter sat down before they could respond,"Let me ask you this, have either one of you, heard of a great knucklehead trout swimming these waters?"
The halfling's hand started off on the Gnome's shoulder, then slid down to the little man's coin pouch.
(Sleight of Hand/pick pockets, Rolled 18+7=25 total.)
roleplayerguild.com/rolls/22110
"Let me tell you, I have an item over there by the fireplace, that assures me of catching the biggest fish ever."

"There's a number of the things out there in the Redhawks. As for catching the biggest fish ever good luck. Rumor has it someone already caught Ol' Bitey. That trout has pulled several people under. Be off unless you're buying the next round. The dwarf waves the halfling away.

"Please excuse my companion his brother left a day or so ago to pursue the giant that stole some of the towns mead. None of those who have gone out have returned yet. Enjoy your fishing." The gnome finishes his tankard and continues to talk with the dwarf. "I am beginning to wonder if the Frostmadien is behind all this. Someone must have lite a fire last new moon and we didn't know about it.

"Pah, I don't think she really cares what we do. What would a God of winter care for the plight of mortals. If you ask me it was just a giant who wanted a drink."

After paying the barkeep for the mead and the stew, Kythor decided to take a seat at the table by the window. The view of the outside was a welcome sight, plus it was right next to the two humans sat beside the fire. The tiefling wanted to be sat near them so that he may be able to eavesdrop on them easier - he might be able to get a feel for what's happening in this town just by listening on their conversation. After all, one of the best ways to learn about one's surroundings is to stay quiet and listen. When you're in unfamiliar territory, it's always better to hear than be heard. He propped an arm up and rested his head on it to try and look as inconspicuous as possible, and just as he began to forlornly stare out the window...

... someone joined him at the table. The tiefling's idle expression quickly shifted to mild surprise, then intrigue as he sat upright and looked over at his new dining companion: a half-elven woman. Come to think of it, he thought he saw her walk in behind her and stand in line behind her at the bar. Seeing as how he couldn't quite eavesdrop with somebody plainly watching him, and that he was interested in what business she had with him, Kythor quietly spooned himself some stew and took a mouthful as he listened to what the half-elf had to say.

"You're a guide, you said? I'm new to these parts, trying to get my bearings. I don't need an escort, but some information would be brilliant. What do you say, few questions for a few silver?"

Kythor took a moment to consider the offer, mindlessly stirring his stew. Not that there was much to consider, of course - information was just as good a commodity he could offer as any. If somebody was willing to pay for information, he saw no reason to say no. "Questions?" He repeated. "I suppose I could answer any questions y'got, as long as you're willing to pay me." The idea of mentioning that he was actually in slightly desperate need of money crossed his mind, but ultimately he figured it best to leave that part out. That reminded him about the halfling in front of him at the bar. A dry chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head. "Must say, traveler, it sounds like you're faring better than some I've seen today," he said, pausing to spoon up another spoonful of stew. "At least you've still got your coinpurse. Saw a halfling a couple'a minutes ago that'd had his nicked by a couple of kobolds."

"Giants? , as in really tall fat ugly faced giants?"
Jitter sat back down at the Dwarf and Gnome's table, "You say the town is looking for adventurers to, um..slay this foul beast of a giant?"
The Halfling glanced at the Tiefling stranger, then at the girl as he rattled his fingers on the table.
Not taking his eyes from them, he asked the gnome or dwarf, whoever was listening"I'd imagine, the town would pay a big bounty for the death of this giant menace, yes?".
Jitter turned back to face the gnome and dwarf, as he sipped the cider, awaiting either one's reply.

Kendra flashed a bright smile at the tiefling. "What can I say? I'm a regular adventurer." She expected she looked quite a bit more put-together than most weary travelers that came out this way, though that wasn't to say she felt any less weary. The half-elf had always been particular about her appearance, and to that end, Prestidigitation was a life-saver. One of the few magical tricks she'd been able to master even before her unfortunate incident.

A hand darted beneath her cloak, fishing a few silver coins from the pouch on her belt and thinking of how best to phrase what she wanted to ask. "I'm working on a project for a teacher of mine," she said, setting the first two coins down on the table, pinned beneath her index and middle fingers. "But it's proving to be a challenge, and I don't have much to go on. Are there any old ruins nearby? Ancient places, places of magic maybe?"