Town of Bogmill

Making her way through the swamp, sticking closely to the road, Lysanna hoped she would soon arrive at the town, called Bogmill. She had never been around these parts before, so she paid close attention to everything around her. It would be easy to ambush travelers, which were not familiar with this dark forest.

After a couple more minutes, although it could've been hours, too, since telling what time it was in such a dark area was almost impossible, she could see a high palisade wall in the distance. She exhaled and relaxed a bit.

She followed the path leading to the western iron gate and approached one of the guards. She took of her helmet, saluted in the way it was proper within her order. "Good day to you, Sirs. We have read your request regarding the riddance of evil witches, which plague your town." she said and showed them a letter, which she had received from a barkeeper, who owned an inn not far away. "Could you give us directions to the local inn, where one is supposed to inquire." she added.

The guards sighed and growled, an effect of being on guard duty in this horrid place. "Go on through," he tells Treva and Rodrik. "Head to the center of the town and find the Hallows Inn. Can't miss it. Big, old building built over the river."

When Lysanna appeared, the guard held up his hand to stop her from talking to much. "Head to the Hallows Inn. Center of town, big building over the river."

---

A great stone platform sat on two stone arcs that went across the river; on this platform was the Hallows Inn. In effect, the river flowed directly beneath the inn. Any boats which came through the town would ride below the inn. At this time of the day, some boats was coming through filled with a number of items, and merchants rushed over to help tie them down.

The Hallows Inn was a large structure and had 3 stories. Glass windows were all around it, but they were stained and foggy so it was hard to see inside. The old rotten wood had a very dark, moist look to them, an effect of being in the swamp. The porch of the inn squeaked and groaned as anyone walked across. Some old men rocked in their rocking chairs on the porch, and you might would swear some of them were even dead!

The doorway was two wooden doors, and upon entry would find a large, dimly-lit, damp room. Many tables were in the center of the room, and booths hugged the walls. They were all aged, beaten, and stained over the years. All sorts of patrons were sitting down and eating all kinds of food obtained from the local forests, or delivered by boat from way upstream. It was not a very loud inn, and most people spoke quietly or whispered, with the occasional wheezing laugh.

On one end of the room was a bar, where an old bald-headed man with cut up hands washed out a mug. "What'cher need," he said blatantly, looking at anyone who walked in. "Care fer a drank? Or mutton?"

   Thanking the guards, Treva moved through the gate and into the town. She had never seen a town quite like Bogmill before. Some streets and alleys replaced by canals, houses built on stilts with wooden boardwalks between them, the inn in the center of town even rested right over the river. It was quite fascinating.

   She made her way to the inn, traversing the loose maze of wooden walkways and greeting the townsfolk she passed. Nothing seemed overtly wrong with the area, like she might find if there were a plague or a wraith haunting the area. It was actually somewhat serene with the babbling off the river and the drum of life throughout the little town.

   Finally stepping onto the inn's porch, she nodded at the old men in their chairs. Passing through the doors into the inn, she took in the patrons and the building. It was old, but homey. Many people had been through those doors -- perhaps entire generations of families. She spied the bartender and moved in his direction. Of all the people in a town, they were usually the most well informed. If he could point her in the right direction, she could begin searching for the problem Xivri wanted her to solve.

The bartender looked at the trio of adventurers with one big eye and one small eye. He rubbed his cut-up hand over his bald forehead and hocked up something in his throat, then spat on the dirty, wooden floor.

"Yeah... witches in the woods... ones you came through... but they don't come by the roads much. That's what we tell the folks, stay on the damn roads, but they never listen." The bartender fixed a drink for Rodrik and passed it to him. "The merchants in town have some adequate equipment if you need to stock up. These witches are fast, I hear. And cunning. Brooms, and cauldrons, and all the panoply of hags. They like to mess with folk... laughing, screeching, whisperin'... then they pop up and drag you away into the the thick wood, never to be seen again... heard the trolls and goblins 'round the woods work for'em, but whatta I know, eh? I'm just a innkeeper." The innkeeper chuckled for seemingly no reason. "Here, the mayor's men came by earlier with this parchment."

The piece of paper was a rough outline of the town and the surrounding forest with some landmarks. To the northeast was the shape of a badly-drawn tree, with a stick figure hung on a noose, and what appeared to be a witch nearby. Maybe that's where the trio could find their first clue.

   Goblins, trolls, and witches? Certainly this seemed like a den of evil and probably what Xivri had brought her to Bogmill to thwart.

   Treva nodded to Lysanna when she introduced herself. "I am Treva Briarheart, cleric of Xivri," she replied. She turned to look at the shield-bearing man who had also joined them and waited for his introduction.