conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Chirp: The Beast of Balmestri 
   Accusations and Acorns  
    
  Spring had come quickly to the Kingdom of Karnande. The cold winds of winter have finally given way to warm breezes and the snow has melted away to reveal the vibrant new growth beneath. As always the spring rains have been heavy, leaving the roads and fields muddy and the streams and rivers swollen and rushing. The sky is a watery blue high above, with billowing clouds heavy with moisture. In the mornings the sun struggles to dispel the gray haze in the air, and each evening a rolling mist settles over the land like a blanket. The silence of the winter has been replaced with the twittering songs of birds returning to the land, and everywhere the forests and fields have come alive with new life.
  
  In the foot hills of the Northcrown Mountains, the sleepy village of Balmestri has begun to come alive as the early days of spring arrive. The farmers have begun the laborious tasks of cleaning and tilling their fields for the planting season, and the shepherds have once again moved their flocks of woolly sheep and stubborn goats out onto the hills and meadows to graze. Already the first traders from the south have begun to arrive seeking smoked fish and furs in exchange for iron work and gold. With the traders come travelers. Farmers seeking new land to settle and priests on their yearly pilgrimage, offering the spring blessing of Lathander.
  
  All those who visit Balmestri, and indeed many of the locals, eventually find themselves drawn to The Broken Blade, the local tavern and the second largest building in the quiet hamlet, dwarfed only by the church of Chauntea at the town's center. The Broken Blade is a cozy two story building with wooden walls and roof. A field stone chimney protrudes through the roof to spread wood smoke to the wind, and an amber lantern hangs beside a hand painted sign above the door proclaiming the name of the establishment. The interior of the Broken Blade is comfortably small, with a dozen round tables surrounded by simple wooden chairs, and low counter stretching across the wall opposite the door. The floor is covered by a carpet of hay, and the fresh smell mingles with the scent of pipe smoke, honey mead and baking bread. Behind the counter a human man entering the later years of his life quietly wipes the counter top with a rag. His once black hair is peppered with long streaks of gray, and his body, clearly once broad and hard, shows the wrinkles and paunch of a man past his prime.
  
  This is Hrothgar, a former adventurer and owner of the Broken Blade. He greets new arrivals with somber words and a half hearted smile, and he carries himself like a man with a great sorrow on his shoulders.
  
  Though it is still early in the afternoon, already some of the local farmers have begun to filter in to the Broken Blade for drinks and to trade tales of local happenings. It is shaping up to be a busy evening at the Broken Blade as five new arrivals make their appearance, eager to find answers to the troubles that have plagued Blamestri these past months.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: HalfTangible: One of the five newcomers was a human woman with deep auburn hair. She wore a set of ocean blue traveller's clothes that looked barely touched. Emerald eyes darted around the tavern's people, her smile bright and cheery. Her skin was pale, as if she'd spent most of her life indoors reading by candlelight, yet her musculature spoke to a relatively healthy lifestyle. She was flipping backwards through the book in her hand, only somewhat paying attention to what page she was on.
  
   " -found a new donut place, went back to the inn, job board...  ah, here we go, job board!"  Amber ran her finger down the pages, looking for the name of their contact. She glanced back to the others in the group.  "Duncan Merriweather's our contact." 
  
  Portent Dice: 3 and 1
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Jumbus: A half orc must have looked very strange to the people of Balmestri. There were almost none of Garret's kind this far north. His incredibly beaten and chipped plate armor would have done little to ease peoples tension toward him either. But looks and occasional glances were easily ignored.
  
  Garret never really understood contracts. He was a simple man who did simple jobs, do the jobs and get the reward. Although, a contract probably provides a less violent solution when a cheapskate wants to skip out on the reward portion. Some people could appreciate that, he guessed.  "Duncan Merriweather huh? I'll give an ask to the barkeep about it, among other business esquires." 
  
  The company in the Broken Blade gave off a very dour atmosphere. Something Garret greatly disliked, especially when he was just about to start drinking. He approached Hrothgar  "alright cheer up, this is going to be a good night. I would like to order two pints of your strongest stuff. You can open up a tab under 'the slayer of the beast.' And you best believe I intend on paying in full."  Garret wasn't simply trying to persuade the man into giving him free drinks, he was paying with a promise. A promise was something Garret always intends to keep.
  
   
   Spoiler: Persuasion 
  
  I assume I will need to roll persuasion for this so I thought I may as well put it in before hand.
   (1d20+2)[ 20 ] 
   
  
   "Say you wouldn't also know where me and my compatriots would find a...  he paused for a bit trying to remember the name  "Duncan Merryfeather." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: esorscher: " Merriweather, " Louise corrects, nodding to Hrothgar. Although she had been born in Balmestri, long enough has passed for things to have changed. " A flagon for me as well, Hrothgar, " she adds. Although no stranger to the drink, she knows better than to match up against an orc--or a half-orc, as the case may be. She puts a coin down on the bar, prepared to pay her way; at the very least, it should help her to pace herself.
  
  When the drink arrives, she takes a hearty sip, but then stops as she surveys the assembled patrons, nodding in recognition to anyone she remembers from her time in town, and for any sign of the Warden.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Matt4: " I assume you wouldn't have a bottle of fine elven wine to your disposal? " asked Ultima to the gloomy bartender, with a defeated tone but a flicker of hope in her icy blue eyes.
  As she waited for an answer, she turned around, not to look at the patrons in the tavern but at her own companions.
  Truly, the guild couldn't have found a better group to test her. An half-orc, a scattebrained wizard, and then there was the rogue, of course the prole of a depravate elf who mated with a human couldn't give different results other than a thief. The ranger woman seemed nice enough at least.
  When given the task of finding the missing waitress, Ultima was a bit annoyed. This mission had low chances of giving her clues on how to bring her people back to the Outer Planes. After witnessing Louise worrying about her cousin, though, she became favorably inclined to help.
  Family bonds are the most precious thing after all.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: HalfTangible: "Oh right, alcohol... erm... gimme whatever the local specialty is!"  Amber called out to the bartender. She was hoping that whatever the man gave her would jog any memories of this place. Probably not, but it didn't hurt to try. None of the faces in here were ringing bells, either.