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[Criptfeind]

"Perhaps we should take care of those bandits first, with the hopes that by the time we comes back the mage will have popped up again and we can the track him down?"

[Flying Dice]

"I have no objections to incinerating scum for fun, and for profit? Well, now," Samara laughs, "It will do for now."

[scriver]

The barbarian takes a break from the drinking and singing, slamming himself down next to the others with loud creaks from the chair, his tankard spilling ale all over the table. "So here's whut I heard..." He says with only the slightest slur, then begins telling the others about the rumours he picked up, but especially about the alchemist and his idea about Roc feathers.

"I dun know 'bout you, but if the tincturer is right, we might want to have something yo our sleeve in case be curses one of us too. 'Sides, somebody's got to help these folks, and I'm sure whatever extra feathers we might find will fetch a good price on their own."

[GiglameshDespair]

The bird nodded.
"I will not lie and say I am not interested in the armour. Becoming perforated is not an idea that appeals... I will investigate this wizard, and report the results back, if the Wrongs are involved or no.

As for that saying... well. One must be careful to look but briefly. To see too little is fatal, but to see too much is worse.  I know enough to guard myself enough. I have allies, and I have instructed them what to do if I fall prey to the Wrong, and what I will do if they fall prey."

She nodded respectfully to the tyrant-slayer.
"I feel I should find the rest of my band. I will keep your informed, tyrant-slayer. Spirit sing with you."
If the smith has no more to say, head to the pub.

[Dwarmin]

The Dwarf mentions he should get work on your armor, and after that things get a bit awkward conversation wise.

Kawtari bids her leave.

...

The Kenku warrior shuffles along, low to the ground, relaxed but alert.

Perception Test Opposed (Enemy roll/Target 3+9=12)
[15+3=18]
Pass!

Though it's obviously trying to stay out of sight, hiding on an underhanging porch beam underneath the eaves of Risey's Store (Sunrise is written in a fancy arc, with bright orange letters), Kawtari spots an odd sight indeed.

At first it seems to be an small bird...an unnaturally pale owl, it's eyes rotating to follow her movement in an uncanny fashion. She kens a side glance, trying not to alert whatever it is-mostly out of her own inner danger sense. Kawtari notes it seemed to be an Owl was not flesh and blooded, but made of some sort of translucent blue crystal...it's perfectly see through, with no visible organs, bones, or flesh.

After a moment, it either senses her attention, or sees what it came to see-and abruptly shoorts off Southward, flying eerily silent. There is something terribly off about how it flies-it seems to float through the air, rather than using it's wings, only flapping them to mimic the act.

...

She makes it to the tavern with no further occurrences, to find most of her group there, discussing their next move.

[Flying Dice]

Samara pauses for a moment, "Oh, and while we're here, there's something I've been meaning to do. The last one was eaten by wolves a few days ago..."

She withdraws a tiny brass brazier, perhaps two inches wide and one deep, from her component pouch, along with a handful of herbs and a lump of charcoal. With careful fingers, Samara arranges the bits of dry plant and powdered incense in a ring around the charcoal, then lights the whole thing ablaze with a snap of her fingers and a whisper in her native tongue which certainly doesn't translate as "Hey presto!"

"Might even do some good towards drawing the madman in, if he hears gossip about magic being done. Don't mind me, I'll have an ear open while I work." With that, she traces a circle through the air above the brazier, neatly encompassing the small plume of scented smoke. "O mystic spirits of the world, I beckon ye forward. Send unto me one of your kin, fit for service. Let it wear the form of the death-bird, the wise-bird. As our bargain has been, so mote it be."

While the party waits and talks, Find Familiar (raven).

[Criptfeind]

Sarco watched with mild interest as Samara fiddled around with her magical apparatus. Figuring he should take the moment to take care of his own affairs, he pulled out the orb that he had gotten from the shop keeper. Feeling that there was more to know, if he could figure it it out. He turned the orb this way and that, inspecting it closely, before shrugging his shoulders, putting it down the table in front of him, and focusing all his concentration on it like he imagined that mages would do to a magical object.

Attune self to orb.

[Dwarmin]

Attune self to orb.

Sarco finds his consciousness fading into the Orbs depth, as he tries to make sense of it.

He feels an ancient sense of anger. That the beings known as Wisps might have been a form of punishment, very long ago-living souls bound into an eternal half-life to serve as roadside lanterns. A warning and a promise, to those that would disobey the word...All hail The Holy Imperiator...

He senses they escaped when that ancient empire fell, becoming blights upon the land, wholly evil. They only exist to feed on suffering...gathering around the desolate places, waiting, watching. Hungry.

There was once an Elven Wizard. Her fair features, hid a terrible soul. She created the Wisp Orb out of a sense of her own evil humor...Sarco realizes that when Wisps feed on evil people, the fragments of their corrupted souls might turn into more Wisps. This Wizard enjoyed creating plagues of Wisps wherever she went, and using the powers the Orb gave her. Of course, eventually the forces she had contained broke free...they killed her (he hears her screaming in Elvish)...and he watches from the perspective of the Orb as her own tortured soul, shimmers into the air, forming into a new Wisp...drawn into the orb to serve as prisoner, where once she was Warden

Ages past, uncounted. He sees the trees plant, take root, grow high, fall down-plant, root, grow, fall, plant, root, grow, fall, plant, root, grow, fall, plant, root, grow fall...

He finally sees the form of the shopkeeper, picking up the Orb on one of his occasional forays to the ruins with a satisfied smile.

And then the hunger. And the patience. And the anger.

They have been waiting for someone like...you...

...

Sarco comes back to himself slowly, as if fighting for air when drowning-feeling as if a few hours had gone by. His friends will inform him it had hardly been ten minutes.

[My Name is Immaterial]

Aldeth has been following the party quietly, showing up when all of the side-quest relevant discussion was happening, then wandering off again.

She's just caught up to the party again, after standing outside the tavern for a quarter hour, trying to decide whether or not to go inside. She's finally decided to come in, and is sitting with the party, just smiling lightly.
"The alchemist lady seems like she needs our help most. Then, we can go help the chicken-people just be people-people."

[kj1225]

Akira, despite slowly getting more muddled and drunk as she drinks from the pitcher she's hogging, nods.
"Yesh, the nice hellar lady. I tink she mentioned loots. And... uh... dishcounts?"

[Dwarmin]

The group now is more or less in favor of helping Risey...probably.

In fact, one can see her in the crowd at the tavern not far from your group, enjoying a meal and a flagon of Red Breeze-she seems to be keeping her own company, not really speaking to anyone else at the party.

[GiglameshDespair]

"Have we not been hired to capture the mad wizard? I would recommend we complete that before attempting secondary tasks." Honestly, these others had the memories like sieves.

That owl was on her mind... she tried to recall through her master of evil knowledge what is was. If nothing was remembered, she checked her book on Aberrations.

[Criptfeind]

"Indeed, it is our main objective. And yet, where we would start. There are a dozen rumors of where to find the mage, each looking towards a different point of the compass. The only thing we know for sure that is he sometimes comes to town. Our best chance to to wait until he is spotted and then track him down from there. But we might as well do something else as we wait."

[kj1225]

"And banditsh jus' kill you or do other unpleasant things to ya. Wizard can turn ya inta toads!"
Akira takes a huge gulp from her drink.

[My Name is Immaterial]

"The wizard can fly and turn people into chickens. Samara can't do either, unless she's holding out on us. He's probably too strong for us to sane him right now."