Julkoun

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A motte-and-bailey village calledJulkoun marks the west end of the old Delimbiyr Road and rests on the north shore of the Delimbiyr River (which locals call “the River Shining”). A moat surrounds the village, which is further enclosed by wooden palisades. A few burned cottages stand outside, their blackened remains a testament to the bandits and other perils that haunt the nearby wilderness. Visitors are welcome at theJest- er’s Pride tavern, which serves robust dwarven ale.   Julkoun stands northeast of the Laughing Hollow, at a point where the Delimbiyr River narrows as it traverses a bed of rocky ground. Two prominent rock outcropppings, the Flint and the Bump, dominate the landscape near the village. At the village, the Delimbiyr River is contained within artificial embankments, which further reduces its width to a mere 160 feet. Julkoun is a rural community, and besides the old mill and the shrine to Chauntea, its buildings are built of wood and straw. The village is home to weavers that produce fine, tough cloth. Much of this cloth is shipped abroad rather than sold in the village   Julkoun’s Situation   Goblinoids staged a surprise attack on Julkoun a few tendays ago. A Red Wizard named Thegger Grynn led them. Pencheska also aided in the village’s fall. She arrived before the attack, and she charmed Estor, caretaker of the Shrine to Chauntea, influencing him to lock the iron doors leading to the village shelter. Then she distracted the guards at the northwestern gate while the goblinoids attacked from the west. The villagers had nowhere to retreat, and goblinoids killed many and took the survivors prisoner. Using the prisoners as slaves, the goblinoids crudely fortified the village. That done, a group of hobgoblins took the slaves to Firehammer Hold. What livestock the goblinoids didn’t kill and cook in the village was sent to Firehammer Hold or to the goblinoids’ tribal holdings in the Forlorn Hills. The goblinoids here know where the villagers were taken. They’re likely to reveal that information under careful questioning and duress   Деревня со стеной и крепостью под названием Йулкоун стоит на западном конце Дороги Делимбийр на северном берегу Реки Делимбийр (которую местные называют "Сияющая Река"). Стена окружает деревню, которая окружена еще и деревянными заборами. Деревня со стеной и крепостью под названием Йулкоун стоит на западном конце Дороги Делимбийр на северном берегу Реки Делимбийр (которую местные называют "Сияющая Река"). Стена окружает деревню, которая окружена еще и деревянными заборами.   This village, once known as Shining, is upstream, or northeast, of the Laughing Hollow. It stands on the banks of the River Shining, or Delim- biyr. As it is located roughly halfway between the two, it looks to Dagger- ford and Secomber for supplies. However, it is home to farmers of independent mind.   Julkoun, for whom the village is now named, gave the hamlet of Shining new importance some 80 winters ago when he built a large stone mill and a shrine to Chauntea. Julkoun is long dead, but his gristmill is, still run by his descendants and has been joined by a clothyard mill that produces whole cloth for sale in Waterdeep or Amn.   This pastoral village of about 40 homes holds busy farmfolk, pleasant gardens, low stone-and-stump walls and hedgerows, and many strong manure smells. Its grassy streets are often full of grazing goats, sheep, and cattle. Julkoun is notable for an inn of surprising excellence and for some interesting local legends.   Places Of Interest in Julkoun   Shops   Julkoun’s Old Mill   Flour Mill (Gristmill)   This huge, impressive stone mill and warehouse grinds, stores, mixes, and bags hulled or crushed grain,   flour, and seeds. It is always busy, and employs over 60 folk, almost all of them descendants of Julkoun. Cats, kept to keep down rodents, and small sling-wielding boys, whose job it is to drive off birds, are everywhere, and the mill always has enough output on hand to sell a traveler a belt sack or enough human-sized sacks to fill six wagons. The prices aren’t below those else-where, but the product, carefully scrutinized by the mill staff, is “as good as Goldenfields”—and that’s high praise from Amn northward.   The senior millers, Alaslagh Eljulkoun, Taunner Eljulkoun, and Irythyl Eljulkoun, sometimes buy nuts for blending, to make nut flour. Irythyl’s dark eyes miss nothing, and local rumors whisper that she’s a Harper.   Shining River Mill   Clothyard Mill   This barnlike wooden mill still looks new. Run by four millers for absentee Waterdhavian owners, it produces a coarse brown looseweave little better than homespun in appearance, but valued for its toughness, It’s often used as the base material for sacks or tarpaulins that are made prettier and more watertight by a layer of finer material. The mill also produces a finer, smooth gray material known as shimmersteel for its overall hue and habit of catching the light. It is much favored in the Coast lands for use in cloaks and hoods.    Bolts of cloth come out of this mill. Although the millers will sell scraps to passersby, they’re not tailors, and aren’t interested in selling small cuts or amounts for the making of individual garments. Locals sometimes combine funds to buy and share a whole bolt of Shining River cloth.   Inns   The Jester’s Pride   This excellent inn is named for the Jester of Julkoun and is akin to a halfling hole or a druid’s roothouse in appearance. It’s dug out of a hillside and planted over with a rock garden and rough stone walls. The roots of trees overhead curve across the   ceilings, and many little round windows let in the light to the south. Dwarves, gnomes, and halflings all feel at home here, and those who don’t detest caves and damp, earthy smells should also enjoy the charm-ing tile-floored passages, which jaunt up and down in gentle slopes. The cheery service and luxurious furnishings should delight anyone—my chamber had a copper tub set into the floor, with piped hot water!   The inn is run by the Yevershoul- der halfling family, who have found no less than six delightfully impish— and breathtakingly beautiful! — half- elven ladies to serve at the inn as chambermaids. They all give as their name “Elsharee,” and may in fact share that name for all I know. Some    lonely merchants seem to arrange their travels up the Delimbiyr to include Julkoun just to see them— and I suspect that some of the odd folk I saw dropping by on several moonlit nights knew how to harp—if you catch my meaning—and were welcome here because of it.   The Jester’s Pride underlies a wooded ridge that is surrounded by extensive herb and floral plantings. The ridge itself is crisscrossed by many meandering paths that link several little bowers with benches for guests to rest or relax in. By night, these sheltered garden refuges seem to find use both for romantic frolics and for somewhat shady business meetings full of code phrases, false names, and dangerous-sounding plans. Perhaps I was overhearing visiting adventurers—or perhaps there’s more going on in Julkoun than one might think.   The Jester for whom the inn is named was a local thief-adventurer of mysterious powers. He seems to have been an acrobat of astonishing skill, and to have commanded exotic magics. He disappeared some 20 summers ago, presumably coming to a sticky end, but until then enjoyed a colorful career of robbing rich merchants, nobles, and wizards who came through the area—and surviving!   The Jester was a man of unusual height who hid his identity behind a jester’s mask. The bells of his headgear were silent and were actually magical tokens of various sorts that afforded him lucky escapes on many occasions. Several of his victims   hunted him with ready spells or many swords or both, and he somehow outfaced them and sent them fleeing, their hireswords slain and their plans shattered. (Tales of the Jester’s escapades come complete with furious debates as to whether he was really the god Mask, a dragon in human shape, a Master Harper, a deranged archmage, or a mighty being from another plane.)   The Jester vanished suddenly, leaving his lair—and whatever he’d managed to keep of the vast amounts of treasure he’d wrested from rightful owners—hidden. Unless someone’s found it since (and no hint of this has found its way into the local tales of the Jester’s daring), a king’s treasury’s worth of coins, gems, finery, and magic waits hidden somewhere near Julkoun. Some stories say the lair is elsewhere, reached via an invisible gate in midair above a local ruin or atop a local tor—an entrance revealed to an unintentional observer one    moonlit night by the Jester’s use of it. Some say the invisible portal is reached by leaping off a cliff or crumbling parapet wall in just the right place—and that those who misjudge its location will plunge to their deaths.   Whatever the truth about the Jester,18 the inn that bears his name serves excellent food. I especially recommend the fresh river trout on toast with a sauce of lemon, cream, and pepper, and the delicately prepared venison. Tables at the Pride always sport dishes of interesting relishes and sauces made on the premises. Some are fiery, but others are subtle delights—and approach the finest   fare of the Elven Court, I’m told by elven friends. The wine cellar is excellent— I was astonished to find Saer- loonian Glowfire and the pale green wines of northern Calimshan (both 1 sp per tallglass, or 3 sp per bottle) among the more usual winter wine and local vintages.   I’ve included here a hearty recipe from the inn’s kitchens because of its usefulness to travelers on the trail everywhere in Faerûn. Another trail tip from the cooks at the Pride: When reheating beef stew for a later meal, add some basil, chopped garlic, and chopped or crushed lemon or other fruit—berries will do—to liven it.   8Local rumors say the Jester has recently been seen again, upriver—but I was unable to find word of this outside Julkoun.

 
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