46. Trade Offer

June 2 Session:
  So they shoot the shit at Beni's for a while, then Raj says he's gotta go meet Molly and Storm for training, asks Eli if he's coming or not and Eli says yeah he wants to talk to Storm anyway. Beni's not going anywhere because he lives here but this is clearly a stop point so Marika head out, too Mika wants to go back to the library, get some work done. He's kind of out of it after all the socializing. Spacing, a bit. Marwa can come with him if she wants but as much as he'd like to just mess around on the telescope and things like that, he's pretty much just gonna have his nose in a book. Several books.
  So she's welcome to just have a relaxing day around the Inn or take Nissa up on her invitation to drop in at the dance studio if she wants, Mika can show her the way there. Or she can wander, he knows she can take care of herself but he'll give her a general "don't cross this block" proximity warning for Guild territory not out of worry she'll get mugged or something but because it's better just not to interact if possible.
  It's evening when they're both back at the inn. Mika looks exhausted but y'know, no sleep for the wicked
  "How did Library-ing go?"
  He shrugs, sets backpack down at the corner of the bed. It makes a very heavy THUNK.
  "Okay, I guess. Ran into your dad there."
  "My nerdy father, in a library? Shocking. You guys get some more time to chat?"
  "A bit. Reading's not a super social activity. Swapped notes. Some stuff relevant, most not."
  her eyebrows furrow. "You're both grown-ups, so I don't need details. But I'm just curious. Any arguments?"
  He shakes his head no. "All business. Hey, speaking of."
  He glances at the window, daylight being the best indicator of time in a room without a clock. It's swiftly getting dark out. You slept in, but you were also out all day. She's chill, spent the last chunk of her day just reading, snuggled up in comfy clothes.
  "We can table this if you're tired, but it occurs to me that we never set a moratorium on hearing back from the temple. I'm not saying I wanna call it now but it's been over a week at this point, and I'm not a fan of limbo."
  Marwa's stomach clenches, she sets her book aside. She's tucked up on the bed, maybe got a blanket for cozies, back on the wall, he's sat down at the little table-and-chair where you were going through care packages that morning, turned the chair to face you.
  She takes a second to collect her thoughts. "No, that's fair. We can talk about it now. You're right, we didn't really have a timeframe established. What feels reasonable to you? I'm taking your lead on this. Do you want to set a final date, whereby if we don't hear anything from the Temple, you'll draw from the deck? Or take it week by week? Check in at the end of every week and see how you're feeling, if you're okay waiting another week or if you want to pull the trigger now? Or…” She gulps, “did you want to draw now?"
  He dropped eye contact at some point early in that, he's fidgeting with his hands, and frowning at them.
  "It's hard without knowing how long these things generally take," he points out. "The part where you're on hold spinning wheels tends to get left out of anything interesting enough to write down. I'm not saying I want to flip straight to the Deck, either. Though I won't lie keeping an asset like this on hand within a tenday's run of the Guildhall isn't helping my stress levels." This last is inflected like a joke but the strain on his voice is real.
  I nod
  "Maybe we say a tenday? And I'll write to the others, ask if they've found any other alternatives."
  "Okay. Yeah. That sounds good. I can check in with the Temple again, if you want? Kara told us to write to her anytime, even if all she can say is, 'still waiting'".
  "Sure, it can't hurt."
  He glances down at the backpack full of tomes.
  "Are you okay if I keep working for a bit? I know I kind of abandoned you for most of the afternoon."
  I'd lean over and grab his hand. "Don't worry. Do your thing. I'll be here."
  He gives you a little squeeze and a little smile. "Thanks."
  For a while you're both reading, but you're reading a fun novel with unexpectedly-compelling romance between a stowaway and one of the mermaid assassins, whereas he's got a few different books open at a time, flipping between them and his grimoire/notebook. His face switches between focus, consternation, confusion, and flickers of annoyance or resignation, but he keeps plugging along.
  When you're ready to turn in he'll just move your reading light to the desk, maybe turn it down a bit if it's something that can be turned down like an oil lamp, give you a lil goodnight smooch on your noggin. I grab his collar for a real goodnight kiss, because I love that dazed look he gets on his face, but then I crash. "Wake me up if you need me, 'kay?"
  He's very slightly dazed when he says "Sure. Sleep well."
  The next few days drag for Mika. He writes the party in the morning, goes to the courier when it opens and drops the letters off. Goes back to the inn, studies more books. Mirage probably drags him out of his books for a break at some point, but there's not much else he wants to work on Maybe they drop by his parents' place again, take Rose for a walk, have a short visit that's less tense than the previous one. Acceptance has settled in, they just chat over coffee and head out
  Marwa writes to the rest of the party too. "I don't know what to do. We're waiting. But I'm scared. I don't know how to help him."
  I check in with my parents via sending stone.
  Julius headed out day-after day-after Siobhan's graduation. He's a homebody at heart. He put out some feelers among his academia connections, hoping someone might be or know a diviner powerful enough to cast Wish, but no responses so far. It's a long shot, but one worth taking.
  They hear back from Ta'lok first. His connections among other mercenary companies and old army buddies have opened some new threads, but none with great odds of success. There are magical items that grant access to Wish - Rings of Wishes and so forth, but they tend to be found in the vaults of powerful wizards or the hoards of powerful dragons, and neither tend to publish lists of their possessions, so following that thread would amount to just taking on multiple high-risk jobs, each of which ends with a powerful enemy added to a growing roster, in the hope a specific kind of item is among the loot. They could maybe hedge bets with a bit of scouting, but yeah, he's essentially coming up short. Cri found out something interesting and that's that the relation of Wishes to falling stars is based somewhat on facts.
  When a Star falls to the Realms, sometimes its astral magic lingers in the crater. They say if you can find it before it burns out, you can change your fate.
  Unfortunately, none of the stars presently in the sky seem interested in falling right now.
  Saeldor continued looking among Wyrd Fey magic options for things that could potentially undo a situation like Mika's, and they somehow ended up godparent to a clutch of pseudodragons but otherwise found few options that wouldn't just put the boy in a different or arguably worse pickle.
  Cri also writes separately to Mirage, sending what comfort she can. She tells Mirage not to lose hold of hope - it's when it's hard to see that it's needed most. To take both comfort and pride in knowing that she is doing all she can, and reminds her that 'doing all one can' doesn't always involve physical or mental exertion.
  She also reminds Mirage not to neglect her own self. Take time for joy, allow yourself happiness, and if there is no battle to fight, then spend your energy making the most of peace.
  These missives come in over the next few days as the week becomes a tenday. Saeldor's comes in last.
  If Mirage is in vacation mode she probably sleeps in and misses the mail call, so she wakes up to find Mika reading a letter, an envelope with Saeldor's writing on it in the opposite hand.
  We're a few days into June at this point and it's pretty warm in a city of stone, so the window's open, little breeze drifting in. Nimbus is a cool mist for you.
  I wake up and see him reading that letter. I look to see from his expression if I can tell it's good news. You catch the disappointment on his face before he even hands it to you.
  I sigh. "So. Where do you want to do this thing?"
  He looks conflicted.
  He knows the deck is bad odds. He's had all this time to think about and research the possibilities. There are so many more than thirteen cards he's read about, and only a handful of them show up in enough stories for him to believe they're probably real (most of these are bad cards). He's quiet in that tight-stomach way that someone who's been nervous the whole time lining up for a roller coaster is quiet when they hesitate before getting on board and are told they don't have to get on if they don't want to.
  "Well not here, obviously. All due caution, boss said before. I guess that means having backup. Space. Got the studying as covered as it can be."
  It sounds like the end of a sentence but he's hesitating still.
  He's wondering if he should drop in on his parents again. See Shiv, maybe. But also that feels like Saying Goodbye and he has to believe it's not going to be that, he can't go in with that kind of expectation or he won't be able to go through with it.
  Marwa is getting her things, can't look him in the face. She made him a promise, and she's going to stick to it, even though it hurts so much. What if this is it? No matter what happens, anyone who pulls from the deck changes things irrevocably.
  He's watching her gather her stuff from around the room, avoiding his eyes.
  "Hey."
  "Yeah?" She doesn't look up, too 'focused' on untying the slipknot holding a backpack pocket closed.
  "Talk to me?" strained, like he knows he's got no right to ask your thoughts, like he knows them, but still doesn't like seeing you keep them bottled like that.
  She takes a deep breath.
  "Yeah. Sorry, I'm just. Scared, you know? Which I shouldn't be saying to you, that's not what you need from me right now. I promised you I'd be here, no matter your decision, and I stand by that." I look up at him, a little misty-eyed. "I love you. And I don't know what's going to happen next, which terrifies me, but I do know that I will be here no matter what. So. Yeah."
  I give a half shrug. Minibit — 6/2/2025 3:36 PM
  He stands, and she drifts into his open arms.
  "I don't know what's going to happen if I use this thing." His chest is tight, and sounds like it. "But I know what's going to happen if I keep doing nothing, and it's not acceptable. I wish there was something better. I don't like this. It feels... I don't like it."
  She bites back the urge to try and persuade him not to do it.
  "Sometimes it feels like there are no good options, even though you still have to make a choice. Do you want to brainstorm options one more time? How can I be here for you, love?"
  He nods against your shoulder when you ask if he wants to brainstorm one more time. he's letting go of you just enough to be able to look into your face, he wants to say let's talk it through and if we can't come up with anything let's' still not start packing just yet. Let's take a day and just not think about the Deck or talk about it or do anything but just, he doesn't even know. Can they get coffee on the south wall and watch the sea? Borrow Rose and take her to a park in Greycastle, flip off any upper socialites who squint at the Commoner Mutt?
  But it feels similar to wanting to see people before starting this process, feels like setting up for a Goodbye, and that makes a knot in his stomach that he doesn't know how to untie, so it's unsaid So he's let go enough to look at you when he kind of, not flinches exactly, but sort of squints in discomfort and looks over his shoulder.
  His shoulder is uncomfortably warm, like someone's put a magnifying glass between him and the sun, but it's morning and your windows face north, the sun should not be directly on him and even if they were east facing, they're shuttered without glass, so there's nothing to magnify it.
  If you follow his gaze to the window at the back of the room you see a large bird perched on the sill
  Marwa gasps, "Mika!"
  Its overall colour is golden, but its wing feathers blend a rosy pink with flashes of scarlet. It has a plume similar to a peacock's, though its curved beak and sharp eyes betray it as a bird of prey. This plume is a low ridge of flickering flame that somehow isn't scorching the window frame at all. It's got a tiny scroll case tied to its left leg.
  He's staring. His body is still facing you, his neck twisted, but he'll turn slowly as the situation registers. This is too pretty and not terrifying to be a hallucination, plus Marwa clearly sees it too, and it's definitely not native to the city. Remaining possibilities are either that some wizard or noble's messenger picked the wrong room, which - anyone high enough to have a messenger bird like this is NOT staying at the Rifter's, or...
  The bird scoots inside, flutters over to the desk that's within arms reach of both of you. Stands upright, waits. Tilts its head at you, falcon eyes fixed on Mika.
  Mika feels outside himself in a way that is same-but-different to previous dissociative experiences. Like it's not a distressing separation but it still feels like he's watching himself reach out to flip the scroll case open and slide the rolled note out of it
  Marwa just has a hand on his arm, because she can't bear to not.
  The falcon stands still while he removes the missive, it's used to it. It remains while he unrolls it and reads it, watching him. It's not stock still, it shifts its taloned feet across the desk, adjusts its wings a bit, etc, but the general vibes are At Attention. Mika can most likely feel Marwa's anxious winds and can infer that she'd rather not wait to find out what it says so he'll hold it such that she can read it too.
  The Morninglord sends his greetings. He sees no reason not to intervene in this case, save that he cannot be spared from his current engagement. Keep it to yourself, but some necromantic villain in the north has got hold of the Actual Hand of Vecna and is assembling an undead army with startling alacrity.
  The situation is Bad with a capital B, and Lathander is fighting alongside his paladins to cut down the hordes and subdue their master. In short, he has his hands full, which is why although Fate and Chance are outside his portfolio, he believes there is some aspect of destiny in the timing of Kara's letter. Because He's not sure about bad news coming in threes - he's been around a long time, and never noticed this pattern - it's presently coming in twos.
  Some time ago, Lathander along with several of his followers started to hear rumours from around the Starless Mire.
  Sightings of undead; people going missing, dragged into the swamp; an increase in local monsters and ne'er-do-wells, and the stirring of ancient evils. Any one of which, on its own, would be a standard Tuesday in the Mire. But all four, consistently, simultaneously, is worrying.
  So a party of Lathandrian adventurers, five altogether, experienced adventurers and bearing the boons of the Morninglord to smite undead and raise hope in despair, went forth into the swamp to investigate. Not only have they not come back, but the rumours they went to investigate have persisted. Intensified, even.
  Trade has stopped on roads that skirt the swamp's edges, with wagons on those routes failing to arrive at their destinations.
  People are fleeing the towns and villages around the Mire's edges, taking whatever they can carry, going by foot if they have to.
  It's not the Active Bad-with-a-capital-B that Lathander is currently occupied with, but it's not good!
  So his curse (He knows it's not technically a curse, Kara mentioned, but it's a useful shorthand) removing hands are full, so to speak, but the nice thing about being a god is you don't necessarily have to be IN a place to affect it.
  If they can help him out, discover what happened to the missing adventurers, find the source of the worrisome rumours and, if they are based in some grim fact, resolve the threat, Freedom will be their reward.
  I get through reading that, reread it a second time, and then look directly at Mika with an exhale, even though it feels like there's no air in my lungs. I'm gauging his reaction. He also rereads it, but faster the second time. The falcon's watching him, like it's waiting
  His mind's going a million miles an hour. He nods, and the falcon straightens up in acknowledgement, but not like its leaving.
  "We'll-" his voice is hoarse, he pauses and clears his throat, tries again, "We'll want to gather our party. Gear up. The mire's not far by airship, we can probably start within a couple days. How-" He cuts himself off asking how they can give updates if needed when he remembers he's talking to a damn DIVINE MESSENGER, and it's definitely a case of you don't need to call me, I'll call you.
  You'd swear to any god the falcon nods, ruffles its feathers, turns, tucks its wings to soar out the window and then spreads them to catch the heat of the sun rising off the black cobblestone street, flying away north.
  Marwa's jaw has been on the floor this whole time, but she turns to him a few seconds after the falcon takes off, just stares at him. "Mika."
  He swallows, staring after it.
  "Yeah?"
  The corner of her mouth lifts up into a smile, and her eyes are alight with resolve. "We going?"
  He nods. "Y-Yeah. Gotta drop off returns at the library, I don't have room in my pack for camping right now. Gotta write to the boss and Saeldor, find out where they are - Cri said she's staying home, right?" His voice is accelerating, not in a negative spiral but it is running away from him.
  "Hey." I hold his hands and get in his line of vision. "We are going to get everything done, I promise. I will help. But talk to me - what's going through that beautiful head of yours?"
  He's looking at you wide-eyed, still thinking so, so fast. There are so many things going through his head at once that he doesn't know which one to say first
  It's a chance - it's a shot, it's a better shot than the deck even though it ranks pretty high on the list of "stuff that could go badly" in terms of quest hooks the party's taken on.
  Her expression says that she will stay here all day while he thinks things through. And if he needs space to process, she'd give him that in a heartbeat.
  He doesn't doubt the gang will help out but he doesn't love dragging them into something that sounds this stacked against them, either - the last party that went up against whatever's going on in the Mire - which is already a risky place to hang out - was specialized for it, and they didn't come back, but all of that his second to the blazing radiance of hope that's burning through him.
  He's looking at you and thinking about 'after.' He wants to know what it'll be like to hold your hands and hear your voice without the damn whispers as a background so badly he can almost taste it. He doesn’t know what to say, he just plants one on you, holds you tight.
  When he finally lets you go, he exhales in a soft laugh, "I am never doubting your ideas again."
  You set out the same day, get this ball rolling, but it can wait a minute or three.
  Marwa is into it, tangles her fingers in his hair and just revels in this moment. What a 180 degree turn.
  When they finally break apart, he's so turned around he packs first and then remembers they gotta write the party so he's gotta unpack paper and pen to do that, but he's also gathered his thoughts enough to be a snarky shit with his 'found something' notes again.
  Marwa packs and makes her plans without stopping for coffee, she doesn't need it this morning.
  Boss: RECEIVED TRADE OFFER: Undead & Possibly Worse Shenanigans in the Starless Mire for Divine Boon? Ignore the question mark I already said sure. Write back if you're NOT still in stagwall otherwise we'll pick you up.

K. Mika

  He scribbles off some similar but slightly-less-belligerent notes for Saeldor and Cri and then you speed walk to the courier's. It starts out as a speed walk for a couple blocks then Mika kind of grins and starts running and it's a footrace that you obviously win, but he's out of breath from laughing as much as sprinting when you get there.
  Marwa also called her parents, gave them a quick rundown. "Headed to the Starless Mire on a mission from Lathander, who will grant Mika freedom upon mission completion. Send bug bite salves."
  Your parents are all SO excited for you but also damn the Starless Mire is bad news on a normal day. You get support but also an abundance of cautions. Set watches, stay alert, keep your socks dry, arriving late is better than not arriving, keep a map, etc.
  Julius shares that the Mire was once the site of the stronghold of the Kingdom of Stone, like the seat of the kingdom and their de facto capital. It used to be a mountain range, and then the Rain of Colourless Fire pounded down until it was a swamp valley instead.
  You roll up to Cri's tower first because you know for sure she's there. She flies aboard, no need for a gangplank, already packed and ready. First thing she says is to Mika, and it's "can I hug you?" with smiling, shining eyes.
  When he says yes she does, a long one.
  Mika's cri hug cracks through to some of the like, it's part fear-of-what-if-this-goes-badly but it's also that thing of like - you know when the full scope of all that's exhausting you hits and it makes you want to cry just from being so, so tired? She touches that, a little.
  Politely gives Marwa her hugs and chatter to let him get his Stoic Face back on because yes feel your feelings but also in this case he gets to choose when/where to do that.
  Ta'lok's all business but has that cabin fever energy, he's already in full planning mode. He has friendly greetings for them and Cri but then immediately begins grilling for mission details, assembling lists of what supplies they'll need, making plans to gather more intel before going in.
  Marwa gives him a gigantic hug, because she missed him and because she can.
  He agrees with Mika that it sounds like anything but a cakewalk; the last team was specialized for the kind of shit the Mire usually serves up and if they're not out then it's at the least not going WELL for them. They'll need to play this one carefully.
  Saeldor has an Aarakocra courier deliver a note that they'll meet them at the Golden Robin Inn, which is a couple day's march from the Mire. It'll take probably about as long to rendezvous there as for them to reach somewhere an airship can land, anyway.
  Ta'lok will muse that a roadhouse near the area would probably be a good place to gather intel, anyway. When they pull up, the inn and its associated stable are on the road; not part of any village just like a rest stop. It's a two-story structure, decently sized, with a sound of music coming from the windows. Saeldor's outside smoking, and there's a lithe little dragon curled over their shoulder, snuggled in the fur of their cloak, about the size of a ferret.
  Cri is enraptured. "Saeldor! How wonderful to see you again. Who's this?"
  "This is Pepper. Pepper, say hi."
  Pepper stands and stretches like a kitty who's been napping, and in Cri's mind she hears a piping voice say "Nice to meet you!" Among their apparent-godchildren Pepper especially couldn't bear to part with Saeldor, and so persuaded the Firbolg to let him come along.
  Pepper promises he won't be in the way, and Saeldor will point out that he is cut out to be a decent scout, not that Nimbus and Cri don't do a good enough job of course, but still. He's also got a poison stinger with a sleep effect, Saeldor will point out with a glance at Mika, who vetoes it immediately.
  "Loss of consciousness and a restful nap are not the same thing, even I know that."
  "Pepper. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I suspect we'll get to be very good friends on this trip." I say, and incline my head towards the pseudodragon.
  After Pepper introduces himself to Cri and you, Mika will clock that telepathy is happening and, aware that physicality does not map 1:1 with mental fortitude but not willing to take risks, hurriedly inform Pepper that he's also pleased to make acquaintance but if telepathy is how he has to talk then it's probably better if he just gets someone to play go-between when talking to Mika.
  He has, uh, shored up defenses since the whole Rochelle thing.
  "I hope so!"
  Pepper is also interested in meeting Nimbus. Pseudodragons were bred to be familiars, and he wants to know what it's like. Nimbus is shy, but will float out from behind Marwa's shoulder. Nimbus still communicates in images, sensations - they speak much the same way, honestly.
  When asked about what it's like to be Marwa's familiar, Nimbus sends the sensation of flying at top speed above a canopy of trees, racing past the swaying branches. Of summer evenings, where the air is warm, humid, and the stars are clear. And bright, blazing sunsets that color everything in light. It's the sensation of possibility, of connection. Anything could happen.
  Pepper is entranced. Pepper wants to be Saeldor's familiar so badly but Saeldor wants him to understand what adventuring life is really like before he agrees. Pepper is pretty young, after all. Ta'lok is very pleasantly surprised by this sensible caveat.
  "Got enough impulsive hotheads in the party."
  Marwa glances at Mika, gives him a quick smile. "I agree - understanding is super important. But I'm glad you didn't decline outright, Saeldor. We should all have the choice to follow someone even if it means going into danger, shouldn't we?"
  Mika has a rueful smile, "Honestly, some people can't be stopped from it no matter how insensible it might be."
  It's said as resignedly as it is affectionately, gratefully
  Talok's stomach growl interrupts the sweet moment.
  "This place serves dinner, yes? Come on, good spot for intel, and faster than cooking."
  Ta'lok leads you all inside the Golden Robin Inn. It's really more like a bed and breakfast than a full-on bar. A desk near the door, several round tables and a hearth on the long wall that probably adjoins a stove on the other side of it where the kitchen is. There's a minstrel near the hearth, plucking freestyle at a lyre, just kind of riffing at the moment.
  The innkeep asks if you're staying and since it's already dinnertime Ta'lok will say sure, long as they have rooms of a suitable size for him and Saeldor, which they do.
  The Airship is comfortable enough to sleep in but it's kind of like camper accommodations. Better than a tent, but not as comfortable as an actual room.
  Smaller party members are welcome to still stay on the ship if they prefer, they are still providing courtesy patronization by buying dinner, which is roast rabbit with root vegetables. You enjoy your dinner together at a table. It's not a very busy night. The dining room is set up to accommodate 40 people easily, but there's maybe 15 people around, not counting your party.
  As you're eating, the minstrel at the hearth makes a round of the tables. You see some shaking heads, some apologetic smiles, then he gets to your table.
  He's a human with locs of black hair tied up, several colourful beads worked into them. His instrument's in good condition, but his clothes are a bit shabby and he's unarmoured. Probably not an adventuring bard. He introduces himself as Reynaud, and asks if he can perform a song for your party in exchange for a coin or two.
  The party all chip in a coin and, pleased at this generosity, Reynould smiles big and offers to perform a local classic of myth and legend - the 'Ballad of Sakatha.'
  The innkeep, who's dropping off a couple more plates, pales and scowls, asks the minstrel why he can't let sleeping evils lie, and says he should stick to silly songs and leave in peace.
  "Sounds like a story here. Care to share?"
  "Happily!" Reynauld steps back from the table, strumming an opening bar on his lyre while the innkeeper walks away, shaking his head and muttering some analog similar to 'speak of the devil and he shall appear,' makes a gesture that Saeldor, being a Rustic type, recognizes as a sign to ward off trouble.
  Sakatha once was the Great Lizard King, Said to have power stored in a ring. O'er swamplands and plains lands his dominions they spread; His very name filled all creatures with dread.
  To build his great tomb in the midst of the marsh, Many men died in slavery harsh. His minions took all of our best for his altar; Not for a day did his bloody thirst falter.
  Then there arose the Dawnbringer Eor, The greatest of heroes in those days of yore; He slew Sakatha in the Battle of Waycombe; The Lizardfolk carried their slaughtered chief home.
  And now he awaits in the cold sleep of death His day of awakening, his first newborn breath. Though deep in the ground his followers closed him, He'll come back for vengeance on those who opposed him.
  Ta’lok has heard of Eor for SURE, a famous general and paladin of Lathander. He was serving in the Norish forces hundreds of years ago when this area was still largely unsettled. His victories in battles against the raiders and warlords that feuded there at the time earned him an earldom. The barracks he established at the nearby city of Vendare is still a renowned and respectable rally point for Norish and Lathandrian forces alike, and they do say his greatest victory was against a lizardfolk warlord who came pretty close to crushing the entire region under his tyrannical thumb.
  "Huh. Isn't that interesting," Marwa says, looking at Mika like, wondering where those Lathanderian Paladins disappeared to...
  I'd ask the innkeeper, "Do you have specific reasons to think that this is more than just a myth?"
  Mika has found presently-applicable truth in legends and stories too many times to disregard the parallel, too, he'll meet your eye with a "yeah, no shit" kind of expression.
  The song, by the way, received a round of muttered "booos and one raspberry from the other patrons. The innkeeper shakes his head not in a "no" but in frustration. Grumbles that it doesn't do to name dead evils, especially not during dark times such as those fallen on the area at present.
  Reynauld takes the criticism with a smile and a chuckle. "Come now, my good man. This song is nothing but a ballad used to frighten naughty children at night."
  I'd ask the Innkeep, "You heard any stories? We're new here, fill us in."
  He remembers a Lathandrian paladin leading a party of adventurers a while back. They were going to hunt undead in the swamp, as he understood it. Whatever they tried must not've worked cause they ain't been back and things ain't been better.
  You've come to the valley of Eor in a dark time. This inn sits only a few days' travel from the village of Waycombe, which is on the edge of the Starless Mire. It used to be a bustling village for its size, mining swamp iron from the marshes and farming the fertile soils around it. But it's been a long time since any trade came out of Waycombe. That's what brought the Lathandrian party out here, as he understands it.
  Other non-adventurers have also come by the inn, hoping for word of people last seen heading to Waycombe, or other towns nearby the Mire's edge. None of the people looked-for have been sighted. And now, people are fleeing the villages around the swamp, tramping away from it with whatever they can carry. They complain of raiders and brigands on the road, monsters stalking the shadows.
  The Innkeep can clock that you're an adventuring party, too. He'll tell you to turn back before you become more casualties of whatever new evil the Mire is cooking up.
  "Appreciate the warning, and the information. Really." My expression is sober
  Mika is also looking serious.. He'll ask the innkeep what makes him so sure it's a new evil, to which the Innkeeper blusters that evil is evil and he (Mika) may not be a graybeard but he's damn well old enough not to perpetuate 'tall tales for frightening children'.
  Mika shrugs the chastisement off.
  The Innkeep grouses off away from your table, and with relative privacy obtained Mika will say that it'd actually be nice if whatever's stirring up trouble in the Mire is a living nuisance and not some undead thing. His stuff doesn't work so well on undead things.
  The others look varying levels of thoughtful.
  Ta'lok mutters, "Good to get the locals' perspective. We knew this wouldn't be easy going in."
  Mika's studying the wood grain of the table.
  Cri nods, clutching her mug of tea with both hands. She looks over at Mika and murmurs, "We're with you."
  He was definitely amping to try and figure a way to offer an 'out' that wouldn't make anyone who took it feel or seem like they were giving up on him, but at her words, he looks up at her, feeling seen.
  Glances at the others at the table, sees the same resolve in their faces. Looks back down at the table.
  "It's gonna take a long-ass time to figure out how to make this up to you all."
  Marwa smirks, like she has some suggestions of ways he can “make it up” to her, specifically.
  Cri smiles warmly, Ta'lok looks mildly uncomfortable, and Saeldor nods, unperturbed. "It's that whole connection thing we talked about, brother. You'd do the same for any of us."
  "It's easy to throw everything in the ring when you don't have much to lose." He takes a breath, gets it together. "Stakes are a bit higher these days. But thanks, really. What's next, boss? Raiders on the road shouldn't be a huge problem for us, but we're apparently not the only ones on it. Figure it's related or just opportunists?"
  "Gather what intel we can tonight. The attacks could be random, but I'm willing to bet they're not. We've seen enough to know that if we're hearing myths about ancient beings coming back, there's usually a cult of followers not far behind."
  Mika nods, he was thinking similarly. He wants to chat with the bard, who seems versed in local history.
  Ta'lok has a few more questions as well. He learns that there are two main highways that go around the Starless Mire and tie Primus' west coast to the inland (the other ways in must pass the Ironspines which is a tough challenge). The attacks are happening mostly along the southern highway which passes through the village of Waycombe, which is also the nearest swamp-bordering village (there are a few others but they're all very far apart from each other; it's a rural area and there's not that many places that can support a village). The brigands look like normal humanoid brigands; dirty and foulmouthed, but no one reports anything that sounds like a literal zombie, skeleton, wraith, or similar.
  Most of the stories of brigands are secondhand, but several of them feature a harmless-looking little old man who approaches with an innocent question or request, such as asking directions or for a share of lunch, then the attack happens while the victims are stopped.
  The secondhand stories are from people who fled; they were pursued when they fled, which is strange for highway robbers who usually are A) already wanted by the law and therefore not worried about tattletales, and B) benefit from having fearful tales spread about them.
  Mika returns from chatting with the minstrel. The warlord Sakatha was said to have integrated any force into his armies who would bend the knee in utter servitude, or who could otherwise be bought. He was supposed to have even had a dragon on his team, so y'know, that's fun, given their lifespan. Buddy didn't have any local stories about dragonslaying, he admits in a strained voice.
  Internally, Marwa is considering this. Brigands, okay. Dragons, sure. If they're all swayed by whoever has the most to offer, the party needs to figure out what they can do to negotiate their way out of conflict, if they find they can't fight their way out.
  She's channeling Pops as hard as she can. Everybody wants something - just have to figure out what it is.
  She's looking pretty intently at her glass, like she's working something out. Wondering what they could offer. Gold? Dental insurance?
  Mika's watching her and waiting quietly for whatever's in there to finish cooking, but gods he loves her brain. She's so goddamn CLEVER.
  "Whatcha got, Noor?" Ta’lok asks.
  "Brigands are businessmen, if you think about it. So are dragons. If it's about making the better offer, we just have to find out what we have that they want, you know? If this warlord can buy them out, maybe we can too. Assuming we can't fight our way out, that is."
  Ta'lok leans back, stroking his chin, considering.
  "We're a little light on coin to buy out a whole band of robbers." Thoughtful. "But if we could offer whatever their boss is giving them, plus whatever can be looted from less-malleable cronies..." It's a risky shot, but you're correct; both classes of enemy are known to flip for a better offer. Keep that in our pocket, if need be."
  "For sure. I mean we don't have to deal honestly with brigands. If we can lie convincingly, maybe that would work. But yeah, something to consider. We heading out in the morning, then?"
  "If we're taking the road, then traveling at night is probably a bad idea." Ta'lok confirms, standing heavily up from the table.
  He and Saeldor are staying here because of the comfy-size rooms, others are free to rent or stay on the ship as they like.