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[h2][color=ed1c24][i][b]Rickard Barriden[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=ed1c24]Elf, Fighter (Eldritch Knight), Level 03[/color][/b][/i]
[color=ed1c24][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 31 / 31 [color=ed1c24][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 19[color=ed1c24] [i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=ed1c24][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Avonshire, Brindleton Woodworking -> Neil and Bob's Public House
[color=ed1c24][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=ed1c24][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=ed1c24][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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It was mid day by the time that Rickard had arrived in Avonshire. Much of the day had been spent traversing the western road with the caravan he had joined up with when leaving home. Initially he had planned to set out on his own, his children however insisted that he travel with a caravan for his safety. Their main argument against him traveling alone was that the roads had been rumored to have grown more dangerous in the last several years. So for their sake he made the arrangements and traveled with the caravan. The lack of speed in exchange for safety ment that he would be a week or so later in getting to Avonshire than he would have liked. All in all the trip to get took nearly a full three weeks. What caused the largest delay was when two of the carts had their wheels break, as well as the caravan spending a few more days than intended in one spot due to weather.

After arriving his first order of business was to go to the local inn and ensure at least one night's stay. He had secured a bed in the common room before heading there to change out of his mail and gambeson, into his woolen pants and silk tunic. Several minutes passed as he inspected the armor and clean what rust he could see off with magic. After the armor was cleaned and neatly stored with the rest of his gear, except for his shield, in a chest at the foot of the bed he had purchased. He locked the chest and the proceeded to go to Samuel's shop and start his investigation there. 

Outside the shop looked like most others, aside from having what looked like a small barn attached to it. A two story building with large windows on the base level to show complete chairs, tables, benches, and even a few small toys. Inside a thin layer of dust covered the furniture and counters. Rickard slowly walked through the shop door, using a key the senior Brindleton, and began to look for what was out of place. The workshop had pieces of a bed frame were set neatly together awaiting final assembly. The head board was in the process of having a scene of a forest in the early dawn carved into it. The stacks of wood to the far left looked as though some of their ends had cracked and split during the drying process. On all of it was a thin layer of dust, same as the counters. 

He walked out of the workshop, and back behind the counters. The ledger Samuel kept was not difficult to find as it was kept in a desk in a small room. Inside were lists of those who had purchased new furniture, what repairs were made, and which loggers had brought him which wood. Rickard set it back in its place and sought for any other signs of what happened to the man he was asked to find. The upstairs living area there was much the same. The dining table had a few stubby candles in small brass holders. Plates and cutlery were put away on a small cabinet. The hearth where the cook pot hung was cold and empty. An unfinished letter to Samuel's father sat on the table, with quill and ink set to the right of the letter. "[Color=ed1c24]Where could you have gone?[/color]" Rickard asked aloud while glancing at the letter. Making his way back down stairs and out of the shop, the elven man stopped long enough to lock the door before returning to the public house for an evening meal. 

The food was modest, it appeared to be mutton stew, and the wine was not of a vintage he would have preferred. But both did serve for the evening. In the time it took to eat the meal he had formed a mental list of people to speak with, at least the neighbors might know something.

The following day Rickard had check his gear for dirt or rust. He found few spots he had missed last night on the chain mail, which he cleaned then returned it to the chest. Breakfast was as modest as the supper from last night. The fried bread was a touch greasy from the sausages, and both were slightly over cooked. The tea at least was not over steeped and bitter. After breakfast, he venturned out and visited the homes of three of Samuel's neighbors. Unfortunately only one was home at the time  The man who was home mentioned that it had been at least three days since Samuel has been at the shop. He had tried to drop off a chair for repair it was locked up. He had also mentioned a rumor a dressmaker's daughter having gone missing since the start of final autumn harvest, near on two weeks ago. Brightcobble was the name of the missing halfling. The rest of the afternoon did not yield up near as much information as more people were interested in going to the festival. Or busy with setting up for the festival for that matter.

Rickard returned to the public house later in the evening than intended. The crowd outside for the festival made it a bit more difficult to get back. He just time for the rush to still be in full swing. A quick search showed few places to sit let alone enjoy a meal. He makes his way to the bar and waited for the barkeep to get to him. The slate board showed that there was some [i]Rose River Fortified Zinnoberrot[/i] available. While more expensive than the house wine, it would be a better wine to end the night on. "[color=ed1c24]A cup of the [i]Rose River[/i] please.[/color]" He counted out the coin for the wine as well as one more night's stay at the public house. Once the wine was in hand he nodded to the barkeep. "[Color=ed1c24]Thank you. Out of curiosity, what do you know about Samuel Brindleton?[/color]"