"Not much in the way of supplies around here," Kythor remarked with a wry smile. "Gotta make do with what we got. Might have better luck searchin' around some of the other towns for stores and the like that'll have what we're lookin' for, but Good Mead?" He shook his head. This was a small inconvenience for him, but he imagined it was a much larger one for not only the group as a whole, but for any other people who were in their positions. Might not be a bad idea for them to open up a general store or some such around here...

"As for gettin' to know each other, I figure that might not be a bad idea. Give us all a chance to get ready for the trek up ahead and to get t'know each other some. Get any little troubles or important things outta the way 'fore it's too late, yeah?" Noting that the gnome had ordered himself some breakfast, Kythor decided to follow suit. He wasn't sure when he'd be getting a warm meal again if they were planning to tackle the task of tracking down the missing fishermen, so he might as well make the most of it while he still could. Besides, if the group was going to introduce and familiarize themselves with one another, they might be here for quite a bit.

Plucking three silver coins from his coinpurse and dropping them onto the table, Kythor raised his hand to get the attention of the barkeep. "I'll have some of the seared knucklehead trout and a mug of mead," he said. His order placed, he turned back to face the group. "Guess I'll get us started," he said. "Most of you might 'a heard me say this earlier, but in case you didn't, the name's Kythor. I'm a local of sorts to the area, been livin' here for as long as I can remember. I know the lands like the back of my hand. Can't say the same for the cities, but for the places where it matters, I've got a good head for that kind 'a thing. Used to be a hunter for my tribe, using our knowledge of the land to thrive off of it, but, well..." Kythor paused for a moment, breaking his gaze from the others to the bar. A concentrated frown crossed his face as he studied the bar, as if looking for the answer to some unseen question, before he finally spoke again. "Let's just say that I'm all that remains of my tribe." An awkward silence took over for a brief moment until he cleared his throat. "Now I'm here in the city, offering my services as a hunter and a guide to those who need it. People like the fine folk 'a Easthaven, who need their fishermen to be found." Kythor turned his head back around to look to the party once more. "Once I've got enough gold to buy back everything I've had taken from me, I figure I'll probably go back to livin' how it used to be. But who knows?" Kythor shrugged.

"Anyways, that's my story. What about the rest of ya?"

It would seem like they have a party now, and part of being part of a party was getting to know one another. Pulling up a chair from an empty table, Kyra orders a humble breakfast for herself too as she joins the conversation. "I'll have what he's having, and some water too." Kyra says to the tavern maiden as she hands off her waterskin to be refilled. She listened to Kythor say a bit about himself, which helped Kyra think about what she should say. It's not like she has many secrets or anything, but she doesn't want to bore everyone with her life's story. "I'll go next. I'm Kyra Shepard, from the town of Highcliff. Humble little town a bit south of Neverwinter. It has quite a bit of history, and it's a pretty popular spot for adventurers. I made a name for myself down there when I discovered a strange arrow while I was out hunting, and gained some magic from it. Using that magic I was able to hunt down some pretty nasty beasts, which helped the town survive what would've been a lean winter by bringing in a lot of meat and hide. After that I started going to other villages and helping out, usually by hunting beasts to feed the villagers or dealing with bandits harassing them. Made a name for myself that way so a lot of folks seem to know me for my deeds. Kyra did her best to explain a bit about herself, though she knows not to feel too haughty about her accomplishments. It might sound like a lot to a regular villager, but Kyra knows her deeds are small time to any seasoned adventurer.

"Felt like this was a good way to make myself useful. Pa always said that when you're strong, you need to use it to stay strong. Wouldn't do me any good if I just stayed back at Highcliff shooting deer and fish, so I'm here to lend a hand to anyone who needs it. As for the magic I can do, I can do some minor tricks." Kyra demonstrates by using Presitiditation to snuff out and then light a nearby candle, as well as many some sparks fly out from her hands. "But I can also use a spell that sends a psychic shock to my enemy. It distracts and hurts them, making them more susceptible to falling to more attacks. Let's see... I can also mark my enemies with a magic curse, which weakens them and makes my arrows more lethal. If I get hit, I can also lash out with fire magic. And finally I can make magic wards that can protect you from magic creatures. I usually use it whenever I come across undead, but I'm pretty sure it can be used a lot more. And of course, I can shoot my bowgun like nobody's business." Kyra looks to Kythor with a knowing nod. "So chances are you and I will be right next to each other when a fight goes down. Don't worry though, if anything comes up to me I know how to handle myself in a melee. That's when I use my nets."

Dullin

"It's a relief we'll have so many hunters on the team" Dullin announced with a sigh of relief. So far the team seemed rather brutish, though Kythor's story about his tribe, vague as it may be, made her heartache. It was just another reason people would need her assistance up here. Once Kyra finished her own monologue Dullin took a moment to compose herself before she replied.

"I guess I should explain who I am if I'm heading off with you lot. I am Dullin Leijong. I'm a detective by trade but my empty pockets have made me branch out a bit. I'm just looking for work to help pay for my studies. I won't pretend I am the most amazing in a fight but I've fried my fair share of thugs in my time. Just trust me to find anything we need. I'm always looking for secrets so traps, hidden passages, lies: None of them will get past me" The girl said with her chest puffed out in pride. She was happy to announce her profession and skills. Upon revealing her own identity, with a wave of her hand a small black cat formed onto her arm. It appeared old, sporting grey hairs and cataracted eyes. The small beast's claws were untrimmed and poked out even when retracted, its whiskers were all crinkled. One of its ears had the tip missing and its face gave a vague sense of disappointment. Its body was surprisingly strongly built with a hefty primordial pouch.

"And if we're introducing everyone, I suppose sooner or later you'd be meeting with Hunter. He's an old spirit but he's loyal" Her remark was immediately contradicted by the cat kneading its long, gnarled claws digging into her arm. Though she winced, Dullin managed to continue.
"Just not always obediant"

As everyone finishes their meals and begins to gather their things for today's venture, Valna Moonsong states she'll travel with the group to the next town but will part with then one they get there.

It is now about eight in the morning. The vague outline of several fisherman can be seen out on the ice of the Redwaters. Their lanterns give off slight glow showing the fishermen working at the ice to break open new holes, or ones from yesterday, so they can begin working for the days catch.

Coming down the Eastway into the village is a small caravan of dog sleds with ax beaks in tow as well. Within the caravan a hulking dragonborn, wrapped in a thick cloak. The pommel, handle, and crossguard of his greatsword poking over his shoulder. As the caravan comes to a halt in the middle of Good Mead, really just outside of the mead hall, several villagers come out to greet the new arrivals and help unload the sleds and pack animals.

One of the caravan folk step up to the dragonborn and hands them a small pouch. "Heres for your help on the road. If your looking for more work in sure we can offer you more. However if it isn't guard work your looking for you might want to try talking to the folk around here. Word has it a giant passed through three days past and killed the mayor while taking off with two casks of mead. Might be some work there or maybe someone else has work elsewhere. I know Easthaven isn't to far off either." The person turns to head towards the mead hall and is stopped by a halfling and a half elf, both seeming to want to seek passage with the caravan.

The dragonborn heads into the mead hall to warm up and sees a group of five people gathered around one table, specifically two humans, a gnome, a moon elf, and a tiefling. Two humans sit near the hearth slowly finishing their food seeming to try to put off going out into the cold as long as possible.

A woman behind the bar calls out to the new arrival asking if he wants anything.

---

---

In response to the question the dragonborn hissed and rasped before abruptly stopping himself with a grunt, clearing his throat the dragonborn took a seat at the bar making the stool beneath him creak under the weight of his body. "Food." the black dragonborn rumbled in a deep baritoned voice, pouring the contents of a gold pouch onto the bar with the dull clink of coin upon wood.

"Right then, bowel of fish stew will run you a silver. If you want mead it'll be another two silver, ale is just one." the woman steps back into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a bowl of stew with a small chunk of bread. She sets the bowl down infront of him and waits patiently for him to decide on his drink of choice.

---

---

"Mead." the black dragonborn mumbled while gathering the remaining coin, returning it to the pouch he received from the caravan folk. Once done the dragonborn picked the bread up in one hand and scarfed it down in one bite with a mighty crunch.

DOMIC ROCKERSTAR HATCHETMAN

"Good to know, good to know! As I've said like three times, I'm Domic Rockerstar Hatchetman. Made up most of those names myself! Honestly, I know most people think gnomes are tinkers and mages, but I ain't really got a talent for that sort of thing. What I can do is take my axe and chop down some bigots down to size. Any trouble that needs muscle, you can trust me to stick in and start swinging. Now then!" Domic downs his drink in one go, looking to the gathered group. "Looks like we're going to miss the missus once we head over, so maybe we ought to get one more extra arm for this job. Missing people usually means something big and nasty getting to em, so we could use an extra blade to hack it. Don't suppose anyone in here wants a job?" Domic asked the loud part loudly after he finishes his drink.

The womans walks down to one of the casks and fills a mug with mead bringing it back and setting it on the counter. "So what brings you here? Isn't to often we see a dragonborn in these parts." She turns slightly to check on the others in the hall watching to see if any wave her down or anyone else enters.

---

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Downing the frothy contents of the mug in a single gulp the dragonborn brought the mug down onto the bar with a hearty thunk, in response to the woman he grunted tersely then turned his attention to the gnome asking if anyone was looking for work "Work?" the dragonborn turned in his seat to get a proper look at the halfling "What kind?" he asked the gnome.

The tiefling turned to face the newcomer. Seeing his sheer size alone, Kythor presumed that he might make a valuable asset on the team. The more heavy, hard hitters they had on their team, the better. "Search and rescue," Kythor says, joining the conversation. "Or, well, more like search 'n recover," he chuckles. He takes a second to size up the dragonborn, propping his head up with an elbow on the bar. "Lotta dangers in these parts," Kythor says. "Bet a big strong guy like yourself could come back home with a real nice trophy or two from around these parts... Who knows? Maybe you might be able to claim the skull of a verbeeg as one of your trophies if you tag along with us?" Kythor suggests. "We're in no state to hunt it now, but we're planning on it, so until then we're doing a few odds and ends to get ourselves more familiar with both the land and workin' with each other." Of course, as a native to these parts, Kythor was already pretty familiar with the land. Not omniscient, not by a long shot, but he knew a couple of things that were lost on the common folk.

---

---

Hunting game alone was too dangerous in these frigid lands, the Icewind Dale was not a place one such as the dragonborn could travel alone. Zagren knew firsthand how dangerous these frozen lands were, the journey he had made here was no easy task.

So with a grunt the dragonborn nodded pushing his empty mug back towards the barkeeper then stood from the bar to join the group gathered around the table. Instead of taking a seat he stood next to the table by the tiefling, not wishing to break a chair to kindling lest he sit on one of them as they seemed less sturdy than the bar stools.

After the group finished their preparations they set out following the road northeast towards Easthaven. The trip is uneventful though the wind picks up and clouds also begin to settle in. Just as the group reaches the outside edges of Easthaven snow begins to fall slowly. Even with the clouds it is still dimly lit as mid day creeps along.

Fifteen of the villagers are gathered near the center of town clearing the remains of a pyre. Others are out on the ice of the lake huddled over holes in the ice with lines in the water. A reasonable sized catch can be seen next to a few fishermen. A few other villagers cam be seen heading to The White Lady Inn.

At this point Valna Moonsong departs from the group heading to either the White Lady Inn or the Wet Trout.

Dullin

The trip to Easthaven may have been uneventful but to Dullin, it was terrifying. Traveling in the company of several strangers who seemed intrigued by the chance they were fighting monsters. She made an effort to steer clear of Dragonborn while in the bar. His grizzly demeanor left her anxious about what he hid behind his muteness. The prospect of getting to practice draconic with a native speaker intrigued her but he dwarfed her and it was terrifying to stand under his shadow.

The tribe to Easthaven may have been uneventful, but for Dullin it was trecherous. She was never accustomed to the cold, even in Neverwinter. To her, the icy nights were what she imagined Cania was like. The trails were rougher than even the old dirt roads she was used to, and walking it rather than going by cart left her legs numb after they arrived in town. Still, amongst such strong company, she was determined to show she wasn't a weak link.

As they rolled into town, Dullin couldn't help but stare at the rising smoke from the pyre twisting violently as it dissipated into the icy, cutting winds.
"if I were a betting woman, I'd say the burning heap in the middle of town has something to do with our missing people" She proclaimed.

After getting acquainted with their new companion, the group heads out. There wasn't much left to do here so they needed to move on. The journey was uneventful and relatively quiet, with only the howl of the wind to serenade the party through the icy realm. Kyra was already missing the comforts of the mead halls' warm interior, but she wasn't going to voice a complaint. No one would want to hear her grousing, and instead she just thought about how much better she'd feel once they settle into the inn at Easthaven. When they arrived, it was already beginning to wind down for the day. Folks were heading to the inn or finishing their work. Though at the center of town there seemed to have been a bonfire or pyre being cleaned up. "Oh my... That might be important. Let's go and ask." Kyra says as she approaches the people gathered.

"Excuse me, what's going on here?" Kyra would ask one of the villagers when they aren't busy. "My friends and I just got to town."

The villager looks at the newly arrived group. "Burned a murderer just the other day. A Red Wizard of Thay he was. Killed some adventures that had helped us about two moons past."

Another person approaches the group as well."Can I help uou?" Oh... Greetings tiefling. I didn't get your name yesterday when you were here last. Did your other companions find other work?" Bits of mail cam be seen beneath some of the layers of wool and fabric that cover this person.

The trip back to Easthaven was quiet, just the way that Kythor liked it. Not that he didn't want to get to know more about his group - he was certainly still interested in finding out what brought them to these lands. In spite of that, however, silence was essential in ensuring that they traveled in safety. The roads and wilderness were both very dangerous places to be unprepared, for there they were the most susceptible to being ambushed or attacked by the wild creatures that wandered these lands. He kept a close, scruntinous eye on their surroundings as they walked. Even though it was ultimately an unneeded gesture due to their uneventful trip, it was still necessary. To Kythor, complacency was a luxury, and one that he could not afford.

When they finally arrived in Easthaven and he saw the remnants of the pyre from their last visit, he figured that it might be worthwhile to pitch the idea of investigating what had happened here. Their last visit saw them uncover a blood-stained book with some illusory magic cast on it. Perhaps they could look into that some more, after they had dealt with the missing fishermen. Before Kythor could explain what the pyre was all about, the villagers beat him to the punch. When the captain - one Captain Imdra Arlaggath - arrived, he gave her a wry smirk. "Greetings, Captain," Kythor says, nodding his head. "Name's Kythor. My other companions have found more work, but just as quickly as they left I've managed t'find a new set 'a hands who may be able to help you find the missin' fishermen, assuming there's not been much luck in finding 'em while we dealt with our chwinga issue. Perhaps you could give us the run-down on the situation, again? I'll admit the details ain't too fresh in my mind, plus I figure you're probably better at explaining it to 'em as you're a resident of Easthaven while I'm just passin' by."

"About a tenday ago four of our fishers went missing. I think they were fishing along the coastline and may have snagged on the ice flows out there. If you need a boat there are some row boats and skiffs on the angler docks that you might be able to borrow. Be carefull though, the ice flows around the coast are hard to navigate even in the best of times, and it seems like a storm is moving in."

Imdra looks up to the sky cautiously the back to the group. "If you head soon make sure to have plenty of garments to keep you warm. It'll be a cold night tonight."

---

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"Why look for dead men?" the dragonborn snorted looking at the woman pointedly "They are dead." Zagren couldn't understand why the people were looking for missing individuals, because the land wasn't forgiving nor was such a frigid wasteland a merciful place for the lost.

Dullin

Dullin covered her tattooed arms at the mention of Thay. She was not looking to be affiliated with that country here and now. Luckily the conversation went on and her heavy winter clothes concealed her heretical markings. When Zagren spoke up she was quick to interject. Kythor seemed to know these people already, it appeared he had been working up here for some time.

"We can't say for certain what happened to them until we have proof" She reassured to the captain. Her hopes weren't high for finding survivors though. Still, she was invested now and she couldn't bare not knowing the fate of the fishermen.