Book 3: Act 1 - The Stuff of Legends

[Graven]

Arenhal keeps his rapier in hand, slowly approaching with soft steps, "Whoever's home this is didn't just disappear, unlike the rest of the town."

Action

Checking for all the traps and threats
Perception +16, +18 vs traps

[Vardaen]

Moving to the yard the bard notices more destruction and out there some foot prints in the mud and dirt. Its a mix of small and very large feet -- more Spriggans if you had to guess. Arenhal checks inside, the place is a mess. There are smashed pieces of pottery everyplace, as if someone just was throwing a tantrum. Arenhal notices among the mess a small hidden door, the cracks of it outlined by pottery dust.

[Graven]

A silent hand rises, as the other points to the trap door. Arenhal begins moving any debris covering the hatch as quietly as possible, pairing that with a questioning look.

[Othniel]

"Anything could be there," Nimiriel suggests quietly. "Or nothing. Take care."

[Graven]

The half elf glances at her, "Counsellor, I'm always careful, didn't Cal tell you?" He inspects the door, looking for telltale signs of traps, then gets ready to open it while standing off to the side.

[Vardaen]

The door seems safe enough to open, and opening it up Arenhal finds it only leads into a small storage space, not very large. Nestled in a cushioning bed of straw is an elegant set of flagons and platters all hand crafted by a master artisan chased in platinum. Its a set worthy of a king (or baron). A small card with it says, "Congratulations on your upcoming Wedding Nuptials Princess Surtova of Brevoy". You appraise it worth around 300 gold.

[Graven]

Arenhal spits to the side, disgust obvious on his face. He turns and heads to the door.

[ManWithDoor]

The bard has stayed outside in the yard, looking at the footprints. When he sees the others come out, he nods grimly. "These seem to be scavengers and opportunists, if the eyes can be trusted. Perhaps local tribes that annoyed the town, but now that it has up and vanished they're looting for all they're worth." Arent looks back to the hurried tracks. "Anyone else have any theories?"

[Othniel]

"A few. I strongly suspect something to do with centaurs," Nimiriel answers. "But we should complete our search."

[Graven]

In an obviously foul mood, Arenhal takes a moment in the sun, "Whether humanoid tribes, centaurs, or something else, we need to keep searching." He looks at the others, an almost smile on his face, "Otherwise, the Duke will just send us back out again to find out." He shakes his head.