Mid day the group rounds a bend and gets a clear look at Brookhollow and the miasma flowing down from Dragon Peak. The daylight might thin the mist some but it still seems to cling to everything in the valley.
As the group approaches the village a serious looking dwarf woman plants herself at the bridge leading to town.
“Greetings travelers, welcome to Brookhollow. What brings you to our fair but stricken corner of the Kingdom?” she measures each of the group members. “Not often we get swamp folk this far east.”
Ssvlaa steps forward and addresses the dwarf, “Greetings, we have arrived to assist you in clearing this dreadful miasma. On behalf of the King,” He presents the courier’s map.
“That so?” she looks over the map and reconsiders the group. “Had a few other groups pass through on the same quest. Guessing it didn’t go well for them.”
“I’m Constable Stonebridge. Stay outta trouble and you’re free to drop in at the Gordan’s tavern or patron the Trindy’s general store for supplies.” she gestures down the main avenue. “Trail leads up the mountain through some pretty rugged climbing. Best get rested and prepared before you get further.”
“Good day to you constable.” the group moves deeper into town.
Rempi stops in her tracks and looks the dwarf up and down, “You ain’t got no lights on after dark. Thought humans and the like wern’t favorable to the darkness.”
“Ah, you must’a been the one scuttling around last night.” her measuring look returns. “We don’t keep lamps or candles lit over night cause it draws shamblers. Frightful animated corpses shuffling around the village during the night only to vanish when the sun rises. Seemed to start showing up around the time this blasted fog did.”
Stym says, “Yep, that’s prolly what we seen stumbling through the fog last night.”
Moving down the main avenue the group discovers Gordan’s Tavern first. The signage is written in goblin as well as human. Interest piqued, the group opens the door and enters a well appointed tavern with few patrons and a portly goblin tending the bar.
“Welcome to my tavern, take a seat and we’ll be right with ya.” the goblin says. He looks up from wiping down the bar and finally sees the group. His eyes light up. “Second thought, belly up here to the bar and lets have some drink.”
The three goblins trade greetings and some small talk. The rest of the group orders a meal and some ale. Putrid, just like home. Perfect.
“What drags ya outta the swamp? Something big and bad chasing you?” Gordon inquires.