Fool’s March

The Equal Jester Inn is a small tavern that tends to be a locals-only establishment. It is run by owner and proprietor Bruvak McBugBear, a large (6’7″), hairy bugbear who may be related to the Editor-In-Chief of the Clearcrest Chronicle, Hrathgag McBugBear.

This is a small, run down cathedral known for its willingness to extend an offer of hospitality to those who are down on their luck. If you lack coin, but need a place to rest your head for the night and a hot meal, the clergy of St. Ungman would be happy to assist you get back on your feet. The old cleric that can be seen running this haven is Father Gacy Crowe.

This is the main entryway into the sewers of Fool’s March. There was said to be a terrible smell, as well as a good number of nobles spending a lot of time around this area- that is until a ragtag band of heroes went down there, then came back out mumbling something about “Seymour the man-eating plant” before wandering back to The Equal Jester for a drink.

If you’ve got to run your mercenary ring in Fool’s March, you keep it as close to the edge of town and nearest to actual civilization as possible.

This unassuming house on the eastern edge of The Shambles is the main headquarters for The Sentry, a collective of urchins, orphans, and the underprivileged from all walks of life. They work together to protect and provide a better life for the other members of The Sentry.

Standing in stark contrast to the rest of the architecture in Fools March, The Pink Pearl is a clean white two story building with ornately carved pillars that hold up a veranda. On a balcony off of the second floor, attractive, scantily-clad women wave at passers by and give suggestive glances. On either side of the front door are heavy glass torches with pink flames that give off a warm glow. Every time the front door opens, the sticky sweet smell of perfumes wafts out onto the street. Inside soft lace curtains cover the walls and calming warm light emanates from a fireplace along the north wall. More metal torches line the walls, giving off a pink glow. A thick, soft rug leads from the doorway to the large square desk in the center of the room, behind which stands the owner of this establishment; a stunning tiefling woman named Pearl. Underneath the Pink Pearl lays an underground river, previously occupied by members of a Yuan-Ti organization known as “The Dread” who consider it their holy mission to bring their god, Sseth back to power over mankind.

The home and headquarters of our daring and intrepid adventurers. Cash, Pimric, Taren, and Sebastian currently reside there along with two lodgers- Davies and Skittles.

An unassuming building in the heart of Fool’s March. While one might expect the headquarters of a mercenary organization to have a certain level of danger to it, the decoration and design of this place is…well, boring. It blends into the surrounding neighborhood perfectly, which is something a shady mercenary organization might well appreciate…

Like most buildings in this part of Fool’s March, the farmhouse before you appears abandoned and sits on a quiet road, with no evident sign of life. A single story, this small blue home is dirty with years of grime and neglect. Vines have begun to climb up the right side of the house, devouring a chimney in the process. The two front windows are broken, and what remains of the glass panes are covered with cobweb and debris. There’s a small fence surrounding the house that is in disrepair, with a stretch of overgrown field before you can reach the front porch. Home of the zealot bandit organization known as Greydon’s Truth.

A small, poorly maintained weapon shop on the outskirts of Five Points Market, the goblin Rusty Rusty (cousin of Dragon Wagon-driving Fast Eddie) can be found behind the counter here, attempting to take advantage of ignorant adventurer by hawking his rusty weapons as magic items.

A small wheeled handcart at the edge of the market, near to the closest darkened alley. The woodwork is old and worn, without much care taken concerning the paint job. There are several woven flower garlands hooked on various protrusions on the cart, and, affixed to one side, an ornate sign in complicated calligraphy proclaiming “Nib & Quill: Custom Calligraphies.” The top of the cart has the feel of a well-used desk, with a deep green leather ink blotter and several pen stands visible. There’s also an assortment of colored ink bottles nestled into what are clearly custom-made grooves designed specifically to hold them. Willow Harmon, a slightly dazed looking half-elven woman stands behind the cart, with her long brown hair drawn up into a messy bun and held in place by a pair of capped pens. Like her cart, the elf has been festooned with flower garlands, and appears to sway gently as she peers into the middle distance, mumbling unintelligibly to herself.

Nestled behind the dingy counter of this shop is an old-woman with stringy grey hair that wisps halfway down her back. She has a short, yet still crooked nose and piercing grey eyes. Lining the walls are jars and vials filled with strange substances and it would be in your best interest to not attempt to discern their contents. While the old woman is strange, she has deep knowledge of magic, especially that of the darker variety.

A small unassuming stand on the edge of Five Points that bears a large, handmade sign that advertises in a flowing script, dotted with small flowers, “Penelope’s Pastries”. The large half-orc woman behind that can be found behind the counter is the titular Penelope. She prides herself on her delightful baked goods and being a repository of local gossip. Though, some have said that her cream puffs have a distinct “buggy” taste…

A small used bookstore run by a strange old dwarf named Joe. He can’t promise that he has the specific topic you may be looking for, but you’re guaranteed to find something to pique your interest hidden on his shelves if you’re willing to spend the time looking. To help supplement the rent of a shop on the edge of Five Points, Joe sublets the second floor to a small, cranky gnomish woman named Ethel Crenshaw who has the habit of being a bit of a voyeur.

Nestled in the oldest, not to mention nicest, corner of Fool’s March, The Emberfell Estate’s tiled roof can be seen poking out over the walls of Cormat’s Field. A grand home with an elegant garden that has been home to the Emberfell clan for centuries. The grand inventor and on of Clearcrest’s founders Taklinn Emberfell resides here with his wife Riswynn, along with their children Gimbek and Oskar.

Tucked behind the dusty counter of the small hunting shop is a bald, liver-spotted, phallic-looking old human named Leonard. Hanging high on the wall nearby is a large taxidermied moose head with a moose-sized set of tags that also read “Leonard”. He is more than happy to sell you hunting materials, perform skinnings and cleanings, and sell you hunting traps. Leonard the human, that is. Not the moose.

A small, unassuming potato farm near the south end of Fool’s March that has the claim to fame as being the birth place of the cuisine phenomena, “Potato Slurps”. Taren Hornraven can be seen working the fields at the farm with some regularity.

Tucked away in the north of Warlock’s Cross, this small shack looks less like a shop and more like a mismatched storage location of poison and spell components. Everything in the shop is on the small side- shelves are low to the ground, the counter rises barely two feet off the ground, and the proprietor, Kam Balesen, is a cranky, old gnome.

Experimental gastronomy is a relatively new art form in Clearcrest, and not something one would expect to find in Fool’s March. The foreign owners may have misunderstood when being told that Fool’s March was “about as far from the rules as you can get in Clearcrest” and thought the area a haven for avant-garde expressionism. In any event, the Dark Delights restaurant is the result of that ignorance, and has flourished in spite of it. The novel concept of eating haute cuisine in utter darkness seems to have struck a chord with Fool’s March’s citizenry, and it’s a rare moment with the line outside the building’s rather plain exterior isn’t visible. Trevor, the blue-skinned tiefling maître d’, busily escorts guests to private dining chambers while gushing (in an outrageous accent) about the incredible experience awaiting them. The small, darkened rooms these meals take place in also happen to make for a place to conduct dark business dealings…

Named after the messy, overweight cook behind the griddle, this small shack is known as the best greasy spoon in Fool’s March. The biscuits and gravy come highly recommended by Gemini Drexler of the Ghost Hand Society.

You pick up the scent before you can make out the building in the fading sunlight- the warm smell of roasting grain and the slightly sweet smell of alcohol. You would almost pass the unassuming building, if it weren’t for the small wooden sign hanging overhead depicting a little gray bird with brown wings proudly standing in a puddle of muck and mire. No wording, no name- just a small sign above the door to an unassuming shop. You push open the door and warm candle light washes over you. You enter a dingy foyer, with an animal skin rug on the floor. While the building is already small to begin with, it’s made even smaller by the four very large casks of ale that cover the back wall. Seating only 7 or 8 patrons, there is still a loud amount of chatter occurring. Given the intimacy of the room, the tiefling barmen, Malachi Carxik, immediately makes note of your presence and shouts over the din, “aye, newcomers! What can I get for ya’s?”

A small stall recently sprung up directly outside Cormat’s Field, Not Bread is an extremely popular pretzel vendor. Long lines are common, with everyone interested in sampling ALL EIGHT mustard varieties on offer with a dunking pretzel (2cp/ea). Rumour has it that a secret menu item includes a ninth mustard, but any true condiment connoisseur knows such an idea is ludicrous. Only eight mustards can possibly exist..