7-12 Pelorus, 4520: JotansWatch Inn & Friends Found.

Arkomir writes...   We woke early today, preparing to continue our journey eastward. Before leaving Kreig Chest behind, we took a short detour to the village of Ostler, where we had heard a granary was recently set ablaze. Dharra checked in with the locals gathered to deal with the smouldering remains. They welcomed the help, and she got to work using her cantrip to douse lingering embers. Her efforts made a clear difference, lifting the spirits of the villagers. With the fire finally extinguished, they were able to begin the cleanup in earnest. They thanked us warmly and wished us well as we resumed our path east.   The following days were long but rewarding. As we traveled along the Beltway, the landscape gradually revealed itself — a patchwork of farming hamlets, rolling grasslands, and dense woodlands. At regular intervals, fortified inns stood like sentinels along the road, offering refuge to travelers. We passed through a few hamlets that appeared abandoned. Curious, we explored one. There was no sign of violence — just homes left behind, fields gone fallow. It felt coordinated, as if the locals had collectively relocated. Strange, and quite different from the traditions of Foresthome or Westmarch.   In one such village, we found signs of recent visitors — a small group who had camped overnight, traveling on foot. No clear indication of who they were or where they went. The days grew steadily warmer. In the distance, we spotted wild horse herds grazing on the open plains. Locals passed us heading west with carts bound for Kreig Chest, while a large contingent of Esterreach Sentinels moved in the opposite direction. I managed to speak with a few — they were en route to reinforce patrols in the west. They didn’t say much more than that.   During one of our roadside stops, Dharra cast Fly so we could scout the area from above. While I didn’t see much beyond the treetops, Dharra noted how the land ahead became increasingly populated as we approached Steinwark. She also caught sight of a port town to the north — Wasswark, known for its shipbuilding. Farther east, the hilltop ruins of Jotanswatch came into view.   By the fifth day, we arrived at Jotanswatch — a pronounced hill rising to the south of the road, crowned by a massive, weathered stone tower. The structure must have once been an imposing fortress. Now partially ruined, it stands four or five stories tall. A switchback path led us to the base, where a tavern — The JotansWatch Inn — had been cleverly retrofitted inside the tower’s remains. The original grand entrance, a 20-foot doorway, was bricked up, replaced with a more modest tavern door. Stables flanked one side. As we approached, we could hear the hum of conversation from within. We stabled our horses and entered. The common room was bustling. The interior of the tower had been adapted impressively — giant stairs with extra treads to suit human feet led upward through what appeared to be four full levels. It was the largest staircase either of us had ever seen.   We were greeted by an elven serving girl named Mara, who found us a table and sorted us with a room for the night. Over dinner and drinks, Dharra scouted the crowd for musicians. She found a bard named Tavin performing with a group of halflings. The two hit it off quickly, swapping road tales and agreeing to play together. Meanwhile, I noticed two bronze Dragonborn seated above us on an upper level.   When Dharra took the stage with Tavin, they found a strong rhythm — she began as support, but gradually took the lead, playing a few songs associated with The Cleansing Wave. The crowd responded warmly. During the set, a woman named Jess invited me to dance. Though she was clearly more skilled, I did my best to keep pace. Afterward, our food arrived. I sent a round of drinks to Jess’s table, while Dharra sent one to a solitary dwarf nearby. We later sat with him and learned his name: Sigismund Stoneshield — a name familiar to the heritage wall at Verdant Isle. Though unaware of any ancestral link, he showed us his battleaxe, passed down through his family. It bore the symbol of a fist wrapped in chains and three linked rings on the haft — likely functional as well as symbolic.   Dharra cast Detect Magic — both the axe and his chain glowed with enchantment. The craftsmanship reminded us of Brak, the dwarven smith from the Verdant Isle. We arranged to meet later so Dharra could attempt a proper identification. We also spoke with a blue tiefling named Lyria, a writer and collector of stories traveling to Steinwark. She was familiar with the Cleansing Wave and shared fascinating insights about the wall’s construction. Apparently, if you know where to look, you can find makers’ marks from Brak, Glade, and Lok. Lydia offered to give us a tour of Steinwark upon arrival. Dharra and she bonded quickly over shared fascination with the Cleansing Wave's legacy.   Later, Tavin and Dharra closed the evening with a high-energy finale, impressing the room. They toasted their performance and exchanged notes before parting for the night. As the tavern began to quiet, we gathered in our room with Sigismund and Lyria to uncover the origins of his axe. Dharra performed a Mystic Conflux spell using her oud as the focus. The vision that unfolded was vivid and moving:   We saw Brak, older, carefully selecting materials — steel, adamantine, dweomotite, and a sturdy tree branch. He forged the axe by hand at the Verdant Isle forge. Later, we saw him present the finished weapon to a young dwarf woman — a Stoneshield, it seemed — promoting her and gifting her the axe in ceremony. It was a weapon of authority, magically imbued to never dull or break — a +2 Battleaxe, with an aura of leadership.   Sigismund was stunned by the revelation, deeply moved by the glimpse into his heritage. Lydia was equally impressed, asking to document as much as Sigismund was willing to share. After heartfelt goodnights and new friendships forged, we finally turned in for a well-earned rest. Tomorrow, Steinwark awaits.