Rescuing Sildar with finding Gundran left the group feeling somewhat successful, but there is worry. We know just enough to start tracking down where our patron is being held. First, we must complete the hired mission – delivering the goods to Phandalin.
Getting paid is good for morale. As our coffers fill we learn that this poor frontier town has little in the way of a constabulary, and rather large department of Protection Racket.
The group decides that before we rescue Gundran we will help this town live without fear. Time to clean the streets!
One things I’ve realized about Phandolin, as opposed to my home village or the woods where I earned the name Fat Goose, is that everyone is caught up in some kind of tragedy or ill business. Between the Red Brands/Cloaks terrorizing the town, the goblins able to raid with impunity, some kind of haunted house, and a set of mines which a dwarven community is trying to bring back this frontier town needs heroes.
That’s what we are. The Loragwyn family taught me that. People in need deserve help, even if you fail while you try.
At Barthen’s Provisions we were paid for the work we’d completed. Unfortunately Sildar demanded his oxen back. I’d grown comfortable with the dumb beasts. Mayhap, I’ll purchase them from him in the future.
While most of us were concentrating on getting paid for an unplanned return of merchandize, Rowan, the Priestess of Lady Tymora, visited a shrine. In the eve, after a few battles she shares what occurred at that shrine.
“You wouldn’t believe how it warmed my heart to find shrine to the Lady Tymora in this little village. It made me feel like the Lady’s luck will be following me wherever I go. And the cleric who cares for the shrine, Garael… I can’t wait for all of you to meet her. She’s in need of our help, but I expect she’s going to be a great help to us as well.”
We learn that there is a coster that is responsible for the rest of the goods we rescued from the goblin caves. There should be a bit of money in returning those goods.
Money is good, but solving problems is better. I’ve always felt that addressing confrontation straight on is best. The Red Brands have a particular bar that they enjoy.
We visit it. Or we try to visit it. A handful step out to confront us.
“What are you doing here?”
I respond, “We’re here to clean up town.” I cast a basic spell to clean up the poor, dirty bastard’s disgusting cloak.
My generosity is ignored. Those idiots. It takes a bit for us to clean up the south end of town and this stupid bar. We leave behind four dead bodies, a handful of smarties that surrender.
Those that surrender let us know of more dangers at the manor house – bugbears, undead, more red brands, a couple of wizards. This is probably beyond our capabilities.
I toss a gold towards the barkeep. His inn is a mess after our conflict. While my companions interrogate, I clean. This town needs help. We help.
We take the dead to the edge of town to serve as a warning, their red cloaks hanging over their bodies as a symbol towards those who would terrorize good peoples.
The living we leave with Sildar overnight. In the morn we are to raid the manor house.
Life is only worth living if you are to help others. The people of Phandalin will live free, or our band will perish.