Day 1: Less Than "Inn"ocent "Cult"ure

All I wanted that evening was a nice glass of milk, that's all I wanted and now I'm caught up in secret cannibalistic society and/or cult that predates most cultures here. On one hand this is quite fascinating and I'm sure the Imperium Academia (IA) would love to read my report on these transgressions, but on the other hand I feel that these reports and cultists will be the death of me. But I suppose I am getting ahead of myself, and I should explain everything that happened to me that evening as best I could. From the top: So I was at the Inn, the Cracked Flagon, a less than economy and more of a slum like Inn in the impoverished quarter of the city of the Krelyrian Kingdom. I paid a gold piece to what I believed to be the good tavern keeper for my lodgings and a tall glass of milk, it's good for the bones you know. I also asked the tavern keeper if he knew any good local rumors, hoping to hear something about a strange ring of some sort that I heard from the IA. But all he could tell me, if I remember correctly, was that heard of some strange things were happening as of late. I don't remember the exact details as a rather grouchy hellborn, a tiefling, down the bar was being rather rude.
 
There I met a fascinating stranger named Wraith, a drunken and gruff red skinned Tiefling, armed with Short Swords at his hips and a Longbow with a Quiver strung across his back. It was then that we heard a scuffle going on beneath the tavern where the beds supposedly were. We were asked, or rather he was and I followed, to go deal with it and he would be paid with a meal. There we encountered a rather irate dwarf, whom Wraith dealt with rather swiftly and rather unorthodoxly with his horns ramming his tender bits. It was then we heard the sobbing of a small goblin, whom I attempted to speak with in his own tongue (mind you, I'm not exactly proficient yet in Goblin) and sussed out his name, "Twitlick", and that he was a slave of sorts. Shortly thereafter he hugged my leg and ran off into the night. And yes, I checked my coin purse.
 
Shortly as we were making our way towards the stairs, we encountered something even stranger: A Tortle named Janott Knurtlo. Yes my fellow Librarians, an honest to goodness Tortle on this continent. I was rather shook myself and utterly fascinated, as we were walking back up stairs I began asking about where she came from she regaled me with a brief tale of her origins (though I do hope to get more details for the IA later): She was apparently raised by Firbolgs and has never seen another Tortle before in her life, in addition she seems rather dare I say hellbent on finding a mate. I do recall reading that Tortles don't even live as long as average humans, so I think I understand her need to do so. In addition she was armed with a rather impressive looking Maul made completely out of wood, equally heavy yet lethal I presume in her hands.
 
As we made our way up the stairs, to our surprise another new encounter awaited us. Two women, a Human and an Elf, seemingly arguing over an absolutely sauced Halfling. The Elvish woman seemed insistent about dragging the more dead than drunk looking Halfling out of the Inn, while the Human was genuinely concerned about his well being. The Elvish woman turned and was about to walk away carrying the Halfling like he was a sack of potatoes and tried to ignore the Human and us, it was then I called out to her in Elvish to introduce myself and ask her to listen to us. She whipped around like Magister Morgana did when I did something wrong as a child and stared at me with her cooly eyes, I switched into Undercommon and back to Elvish to get a better measure how best it was to communicate with her.
 
She came back to the bar when I offered her a drink, milk obviously, and she deposited the Halfling on the table and the Human woman went to work helping him. She used, honest to goodness magic, to begin trying to heal him. This did not go over well with the tavern keeper, despite her and I's protests that she is a Cleric and clearly allowed to use such magics. Meanwhile the Elvish woman seemed a bit off, and offered me a strange card. Initially I was confused, but then it showed me the most curious symbol and iconography: A bleeding skull with four roses encircling it. It was then I realized that she was eyeing me rather strangely and kept staring at my arm. What followed after confused me greatly as a whirlwind of strangeness unfolded that lead me to, admittedly panicking and "freaking out".
 
The Innkeeper after being shown a strange paper and gold by the Human woman called the Elf woman I was speaking with a "Demon" and everybody started speaking what I believed was a Abyssal tongue and throwing words like "Wendigo" out, and the Tortle like me was getting freaked. At this point I was holding my Quarterstaff in front of me out of more panic than self defense, and just as the guards came in and kicked in the door. The room was filled with a magical Darkness... and both the Elvish woman and the guards were gone. After a brief but still panicked talk amongst ourselves and the Innkeeper, and me slowly connecting some dots, especially after seeing the cultish iconography on the door. We realized, and more importantly I realized, this Inn was a front for a cannibalistic cult that "worships" the Wendigo and we were in terrible danger.
 
It was at this point that I insisted, albeit demanded, we go to the nearest library. There we could utilize its resources for research and as a place to hide... after all what's safer than the library?