The dwarf nearly spit out his ale while trying to contain his laughter. "Let me guess you would save us from the Verbeeg? The man's laughter was now coming through the mead hall. "If I heard right you said you were robbed by three kolbolds and chased through the gloom. Sure the town would pay for the demise of the giant and return of the mead casks. But I don't think you stand half a chance against a baby trout little man, let alone a verbeeg."

The dwarf nearly spit out his ale while trying to contain his laughter. "Let me guess you would save us from the Verbeeg? The man's laughter was now coming through the mead hall. "If I heard right you said you were robbed by three kolbolds and chased through the gloom. Sure the town would pay for the demise of the giant and return of the mead casks. But I don't think you stand half a chance against a baby trout little man, let alone a verbeeg."

" I guess I could sit on my ass, smoking a pipe, while I worry about my brother, maybe some stranger will come do my job for me."
Jitter hopped down on the floor, pointing his finger at the dwarf, then at the gnome.
"Have you been chased by hungry horde of kobolds before?, no I didn't think you had."
Fuming from the laughter of his size, he continued "My friends and I will slay this verbeeg giant for the town, you have my word or my name isn't Frag Stumbleduck."
The Halfling wobbled his way over to the girl and tiefling, "We are your humble heroes"

Kythor quietly nodded to himself. Ruins in the nearby area? His tribe used to speak of ruins that sounded similar to what this woman was asking for. Even as a child, he knew that researcher-type people - like the half-elf before him - would be interested in the locations of such places. Whether that was to claim its discovery, to pillage and plunder it for artifacts and loot, or, as he imagined was rarely the case, to study the ruins themselves while leaving them pristine and fully intact. Regardless of what her intent was, Kythor thought back to his youth. Quite a few people within his tribe had claimed to come across ruins on their travels. Surely he could remember where they had claimed to see these ruins, no problem. He took a sip of his mead and thought to himself about where to find these ruins.

A full three seconds of silence later, it suddenly occurred to the tiefling that he could not remember the location of any of the ruins he had heard of. How had he managed to forget all of them? Maybe it was because he, himself, had found little use of ruins, let alone their location. The tribe had a few members who were interested in that sort of thing, but Kythor had no interest in the past. Life ran in cycles. People lived, died, and are eventually forgotten. What use is it to dwell upon the past of that which is dead and gone? At least, that was how he had seen it in the past. Things were different now...

With a frown, Kythor shook his head. "'fraid I can't point you to the location of any ruins," he said, "but I have heard of ruins that sound kinda like what you're looking for. I bet some of the citizens of Good Mead might've heard a thing or two about where you could find some ruins, try-"

Before he could finish his sentence, his eyes caught onto the halfling from earlier now approaching their table. "My friends and I will slay this verbeeg giant for the town, you have my word or my name isn't Frag Stumbleduck," The halfling said. "We are your humble heroes!" Upon this somewhat bold declaration, Kythor raised an eyebrow before turning to face the halfling. "...Heroes? ...Us?" With a clear expression of bemusement, he looked first to the halfling, then to the half-elf, before turning back to the halfling while he waited for an explanation.

"... Friends? ... Us?" she echoed, just as amused. The term verbeeg was vaguely familiar to her, perhaps something she read about 5 or 6 years ago, but giant she understood quite well, and volunteering her to slay such a thing didn't seem to Kendra like the act of a friend.

That said... she couldn't help but feel that restless stir in her mind. That urge to leave, to keep traveling. She wasn't going to find what she was looking for here, she knew that much. Frag Stumbleduck hardly seemed like he was going to be the source of answers for her, but then again, she should've learned by now that the way forward was often the last place she looked.

"Is there a bounty on this creature, then?" she asked. There seemed to be opportunity here. She could look after herself, and this tiefling looked like he could too. The halfling she wasn't sure of, given the story about kobolds, but for the right price... Kendra was willing to consider the risk.

The barkeep looked over the three of them. "If you can bring back the mead casks, or whatever is left of them, we can get you lodging, meals and drink for the next tenday. That's about all we can afford since we have lost those casks."

(For a point of clarification, a tenday is a week in the forgotten realms.)

@The Large Dumbo@Alarielle

Jitter looked at the Tiefling, "Yes....heroes.....us.....we can do this."
He turned his attention to the girl,"See, she's in, you heard her."
Jitter drew his shortsword out and held it as high as he could, "Good people of Good Mead, we shall rescue your stolen casks, and slay this giant!"
He waited for the cheers and claps, but none seem to follow.
"Tough crowd."
Jitter put his sword away, and hopped up onto a chair next to the Tiefling, "Jitter Meadowbrook, friend. "
The halfling's cheeks turned red, as he blushed before the girl "Forgive my manners, M'lady." apologized Jitter as he took her hand gently, and kissed it.
Popping his fingers as he leaned back in his chair, Jitter asked the most important question of all, "What's the plan?"

"Hold on a moment," Kythor objected, raising his hand. A small frown creased onto his face as he took note of the halfling's rather unusual mannerisms. "You presume quite a bit about both of us, 'friend.'" These were certainly some rather bold claims the halfling - Jitter Meadowbrook - was putting forth, insinuating that they would all be able and willing to hunt down a verbeeg of all things. Kythor barely knew the first thing about fighting a verbeeg! If he didn't know anything about hunting a verbeeg, he imagined these other two had knew even less than he did. Kythor's father had always told him to stray from their paths and that to fight one was to ensure one's death. The last time he checked, Kythor was quite sure that he was in no hurry to run headfirst into an early demise. He certainly wasn't about to lay his life on the line for the town of Good Mead, at any rate. He couldn't deny, however, that the offer of free room, board, and food was tempting. Was it tempting enough for him to consider their offer seriously?

Quietly, he stroked his chin, his hand gliding down a rather scraggly and unkempt beard. It certainly beat having to scrounge up for food while trying to avoid succumbing to the naturally cold climate. Besides, if he did manage to take down a verbeeg, there was a lot to gain from that. Experience, knowledge of how to take down similar foes, and even renown that could lead to bigger jobs that paid more. Again, he didn't know how long he would have to stay in town, nor how much money he would need before he could safely return to the life of an outsider.

That being said, he would be very wise to consider his company if he were to undergo this task. Jitter himself seemed to be a rather dubious choice in the tiefling's eyes. A man who was accosted by kobolds who seeks now to fight a verbeeg? The idea was laughable to Kythor. So far the most admirable trait that Jitter had displayed was his enthusiasm, but no amount of enthusiasm can kill a verbeeg. As for the half-elf, he couldn't say. She claimed to be an adventurer, but judging by her well-kept appearance, Kythor couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she had an escort traveling with her, or if she had simply been lucky in arriving here unscathed. Her having an escort already would certainly explain why she had no need of his services, despite her earlier statement that she intended on researching some ruins. Both of those thoughts aside, Kythor imagined that she had even less interest in the town than he. It sounded as if she was after research, not glory, or a sporting hunt. It was likely that once she found the ruins she was after, she would take what she needed to and leave.

"I will confess that I could use a tenday of lodging myself..." Kythor said, leaning back in his seat. Perhaps he would go after the verbeeg. With these two in tow, however? He wasn't sure. "Jitter Meadowbrook, is it? You wanna know what my plan is? My plan is to, for both of your sakes, suggest that neither of you consider the offer of hunting down a verbeeg too seriously. If I'm bein' quite honest, I imagine this task might be a bit over your heads. I've never had the pleasure of dealing with a verbeeg myself, and for good reason - they're dangerous creatures, who can..." He paused. What could they do? The tiefling cursed in orcish beneath his breath. How he wished he still had the elders to counsel for their knowledge on these things! Kythor quietly cleared his throat, continuing to speak. "That's beside the point. What I'm trying to say is an encounter with a verbeeg is most certainly too dangerous for two visitors to Icewind Dale to handle. I imagine a single verbeeg is far stronger than a group of kobolds, Jitter," he chuckled, taking a swig of mead.

"If you want to see what they can do just swing by the shrine. We still haven't buried the last speaker as we are waiting till after the new moon. You'll be able to see what a the giant is capable of." The dwarf started as he got up from his seat and headed for the exit. He pulled up his hood and scarf and set out into the mid-dat twilight. The gnome left just after the dwarf, bundling up in his thick wool cloak. The two humans were passively watching the three that were gathering near the window.

"I'm all for a challenge, but risking being torn apart by this creature seems worth a little more than rooms and meals." Kendra didn't lack for courage, but with the halfling inspiring little confidence and the tiefling's own hesitation, she wasn't exactly inspired to play hero here. The damage was done in terms of lives lost already, and she wasn't about to risk her own for casks of mead.

She noticed then that Jitter had taken her gloved hand and kissed it. She cocked an eyebrow at the halfing and pulled the hand away. "Don't do that again." She wondered now if she wasn't being mistaken for someone far more well-off than she was.

"I think I'll take your word for it," she told the dwarf as he made his exit. No point losing her appetite when she had a... serviceable, stew in front of her. She took the bowl in both hands and whispered a word down towards it, adding extra heat into the bowl and warming the stew to just below scalding temperatures. The next spoonful's flavor was also pleasantly masked and spiced. All in her head, of course, but ignorance was bliss in this case.

Jitter looked at the Tiefling, and patted his own shortsword with his hand, "It's not just for show, I know how to use it, and a bow as well."
Looking to the female who pulled her hand back quicker than a mouse trap, "My apologies, my dear mama taught me to be polite to the finer side of life."
Turning his attention back to the Tiefling, he explained to him, that it was an army of hungry kobolds, nearly a hundred of them, hence the reason he used the word "Horde"
"Fighting one giant is better than facing a hundred kobolds, and I have a plan."
"Giants are well, gigantic, but they are top heavy, so all we gotta do...is set a trap for the verbeeg, and bring him down to our eyesight, then we wack him."
Jitter tossed his hands open, and asked "Whatcha think?"

Kythor had dug into his stew while the halfling both explained the plan he had and corrected the tiefling. A sly smirk crossed his face for but the briefest of seconds, quickly disappearing as he spooned up another spoonful of stew. "I imagine it may be a bit trickier than that," Kythor said, "but the best way I figure we could take down this verbeeg would be to trap it." Quietly, he mused to himself how one of the more expedient ways to deal with the verbeeg could be to poison the mead. Of course, the town would have little interest in having poisoned mead returned to them, so he gave that idea very little actual thought beyond the concept.

Setting aside his spoon, Kythor sized up the halfling. Jitter had said he was proficient in use with the bow, and shortsword. Perhaps he hadn't come here as unprepared as Kythor had initially thought. Still, they were a far cry from taking on a verbeeg of all things. "Knowing how to use a weapon is quite different from mastering it. Besides, I imagine that the training earned in the city is quite different from that in the wilds. Out here, mastering your weapon of choice is how one survives. Even I cannot claim to truly have mastered the bow, although I have used it for most'a my life," Kythor explained. "Using a trap's a good idea, for sure, but I figure we're gonna need a bit more than that to bring it down..."

"By the by... I don't mean to pry, but I've gotta ask. What brings both of you out this way?" Kythor asked, leaning back and taking a swig of his mead. "I know you're here for research of some sort," he said, pointing to the half-elf sitting across from him. "But I don't know anything about either of you beyond that. This is some distance away from the luxuries and pleasantries of the southern lands, I hear. Warm sun, bustling taverns, hunting for sport instead of for survival..." The tiefling gave a gruff chuckle and shook his head. "I figure it probably won't matter if we don't intend on all working together, but I would appreciate if the two of you humored my curiosity. I've always been interested in hearin' why people would choose to come up here."

"Beyond that's a bit personal." Kendra wondered how long it would take before it got to this point. She had nothing against casual curiosity, she felt plenty of it herself, but there inevitably came a point where she was willing to say no more, and that meant dangling a secret. Some people had the control to let it go, and some were fish that couldn't help but bite the hook.

"It's like I said, following the path a mentor of mine set out for me. I've got some things I need to prove, and for the moment, that means figuring out a way to survive up here." And figuring out how to deal with herself, and the uncomfortable parts she didn't quite understand yet. "You can call me Kendra, though."

Jitter was lost in thought, a horrific past entered his mind, seeing his father screaming in pain, and then, it was gone...the ring promised to him, stolen.
The halfing shook his head from side to side, his cheery self gone, now replaced with a cold bitter tone that echoed from his lips "Knucklehead trout, I'm looking for the monster granddaddy of em all, and when I found that son of an orc's arse, I'm gonna fry him up."
Jitter pulled his pipe out and lit the strange tobacco that smelled of summer days of a lazy forest.
"Fishing, believe it or not, when I'm not busy with other tasks, you can find me following his trail."
He blew smoke rings that flew upawards towards the Tiefling, but broke apart over his head.
" Pray tell, why are you here, Kythor?"

The half-elven woman slowly approaches the group at the table.

"Excuse me... I heard you all might be looking for work. I am looking for someone to try to catch me a chwinga. I need it for my studies in regards to the weather here in this area. I'll pay twenty-five gold if you bring me one."

@Lurking Krog
The Halfling looked puzzled as he stared blankly at the woman.
"A whaaaat?"
He giggled as he said the word to himself Chwinga.
" Sounds like some sort of pastry, do they taste good?"
" Chwinga, chwinga, chwingaaaaa," began the halfling singing as if in a conga line, and dancing in his seat.
He burst out laughing, as he drank the rest of his cider, "Wow, I didn't know your cider had alcohol in it."
Jitter removed two silver coins, and laid them on the table, "By the luck of the gods, they granted me the payment i owe you."

The tiefling quietly sipped from his mead as he listened to the two. It seemed that the half-elf Kendra had been sent northward by her mentor, while Jitter had come up this way to fish. Judging by the sudden change of disposition on the halfling's part, Kythor presumed there was more to it than just a leisurely pastime. He didn't plan on prying for the time being, however; he asked the two why they had come up here, and they had answered just that. No need for the small details. "Interesting," Kythor remarked with a nod. "So, you've come here to prove something to your mentor, and you've come here for a bit of fishin'. Why am I here?" The tiefling interrupted himself with a grim chuckle. "Well, I didn't exactly make the choice to come here. I was born here - I belong to the Greyspear Tribe. We've lived off the land for many years now. I know these lands like the back of my hand, but that's just about all I know. Not that I imagine there's much that I would want to learn down in the warmer lands," Kythor added, a twinge of bitterness to his voice. "My elders spoke of softer lands and softer people, indulging themselves in luxuries while they shooed the poor and undesirables away. I suppose I can't be too mad at them, however. I bet if we'd been welcomed within their walls we'd be just like them..."

He trailed off as the half-elf approached and stayed silent as he listened to both her request and Jitter's declaration. He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at the half-elf, mulling over the request she'd made. Memories of the past came flooding back to him as he leaned back and reminisced about his father's teachings. Chwingas were unusual little creatures that Kythor had never really interacted with, beyond catching a glimpse of one on occasion. Much of his knowledge came from his father, whose words echoed in his mind. His father had told him that they were timid little creatures with doll-like appearances. He said that they had a keen interest in humanoids, as he recalled many times he was able to catch a glimpse of one before it ducked out of view. For those they favored, they left boons, either in the form of assistance or in physical gifts.

Once both parties had stopped talking, he cleared his throat and rejoined the conversation at hand. "No, Jitter," Kythor said, shaking his head - the humor went right over his head. "A chwinga is a small forest spirit. They're shy little sprites, not quite the easiest to catch. More importantly, however, I imagine capturing one would be a much less daunting task than trying to hunt a verbeeg." He turned his head to look up to the half-elf researcher. "You said you'd be interested in havin' one for weather research?" He asked. "Might I ask as to what you plan on doing with it if we were to deliver one to you?" Kythor wasn't too keen on handing one over to this woman if she wanted it for malicious purposes. At the same time, 25 gold was a lot to say no to for Kythor. If it turned out she had evil intent, someone else could play hero. For now, he just needed to survive.

"Studying one up close. I think that by studying the way they can alter their natural surroundings, I may find a way to improve the local climate." She opened her pack and pulled out hooded lantern. "This may help you find them. It's called a lantern of tracking. It uses normal lamp oil and functions like a normal lantern. Where is is different is that it is attuned to tracking a certain type of creature. When it is within a few hundred feet the flames turn bright green. I've gone all over this town looking for one and haven't seen one yet. I'm quite sure there are some that live in, or at least near Ten-Towns.

@Lurking Krog
Jitter studied the lantern from a distance, since they wouldn't let him touch it."So you want us to walk around in the cold, looking for a Chwinga?"
"Just exactly how big is Ten towns, and is there a certain place to find these creatures, or is just a wild goose chase in the middle of winter?"
The halfling looked at Kythor, "We should stick to the original plan, and kill the giant, if you ask me."
"Do we really wanna freeze our asses off looking for something that sounds like a made up name?"
Jitter looked at the woman, and asked "Do you have any proof that these Chwingas, even exist?"

"The local here knows more about them than this giant thing," Kendra pointed out. "The pay being offered is better, the job is safer, we might not even need to leave town... you really want to go after a giant just to have your room and meals paid for?"

There was no original plan to stick to, as far as Kendra was concerned. If Jitter wanted to wander out into the frozen wastes in search of his death, he was welcome to do so alone. Kendra felt inclined to take the advice of the wilds man who actually lived in these parts.

Furthermore, this researcher didn't seem to have anything malicious planned for the forest spirit, and if she was right about her theory, well... improving the local climate sounded like a worthy goal to pursue. She could certainly understand the allure of a magical breakthrough.

"Say we do find one of these things. How do we capture it? I know some magic, but it's more of the self-defense variety."

Listening in on the group from a nearby table a man, wearing a set of chain mail under an open coat, speaks up. "Your pal seemed to know a decent amount about'em for them to be made up and the lady's got a point" He says taking a swig from his mug, while pushing his chair around to face the group. A human male who appears to be in his late 20's begins looking the group over before speaking again. "Don't mean to eavesdrop on y'all but talks over possible jobs perk up most folks ears, especially those in need of a few coins" The man says while resting his drink free hand against the back of his brown hair. "Names Theodorick Mathews and I fancy myself as a traveler of sorts but I got enough muscle to help wrangle the creature y'all are talking about if yer interested". Theodorick's accent sounds as if he grew up on a farm much farther south than where the group currently resides.