Alric will assist anyone else who is wounded to get to the temple to request assistance for wounds incurred while fighting the goblins.
Not sure who else is hurt, but I know I'm down 1/2 hp's and could use a clw.
After making sure the dog gets a decent burial, Cerin will help anyone else who went to the temple with their wounds. He has a few scratches, but nothing some first aid and a good night's sleep won't fix.
Heal (if necessary): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Well, he isn't too good with human anatomy, but if anyone has an animal that needs fixing up...
Still with a protective wing around Aimea, Arabeth escorts her wounded comrade to the temple so that the Clerics there can assuage her wounds.
While giving comforting words to the injured lass, Arabeth does keep an eye out to try and surmise how much damage the little green vermin have managed to do.
Perception:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
"I mean, it's not like Goblins aren't aggressive. It's just that I've never heard of them attacking anything this big before." Arabeth remarks.
At the temple Arabeth folds her wings and replaces her faux 'cloak clasp' back on them, the better to no longer stand out from the crowd.
Disguise:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Diplomacy:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Trying to politely gain the Clerics attention, since I gather there would be a few petitioners seeking healing and such.
Looks like we'll be waiting a while....(-_-)
Arabeth gently hugs Aimea,
"Nonsense! You dealt with those little green horrors far better than I!" She reassures the Half-elven lass, even as they come upon the doors of the temple. She ushers the others to come as well.
Arabeth looks for any of the priests who might be in attendance. Then to see if the doors of the place have not been locked and bolted shut against the marauding Goblins.
*Knock, knock* "Hello? Is any one there? There are wounded who need aid!" She calls.
"The priests here will have every one feeling fit and hail in no time. Then we can return to the Rusty dragon and relax and recover from these events." Arabeth says to the group, even as she looks about for the clergy of this temple.
Whose temple is it? By the way, Master DM, Sir?
If I recall from Jade Regent the cleric is a Cleric if Densa, but the temple itself has shrines for a number of a gods.
Aimea hugs Arabeth. "I need to be more careful, my familiar responds to my emotions... And he seems to think he is a dire wolf instead of a fox. I've had him since I was a little girl you know. Desna watch over him.
Araveth nods and smiles, "Truly you are graced by your Goddess." She acknowledges.
"Your friend also did well in the fighting..." Arabeth pauses as she takes note of the artwork which but a while ago was racing around and causing havoc for the Goblins, then gently releases Aimea from their embrace and looks to Alric. (Whom I assume was following/escorting us to the temple?)
"And how fares youself, fine Sir?" She looks Alric up and down to ascertain the injuries he's suffered under the hands of the vicious little vermin.
Perception:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
Slowly and gently reaching out to touch Alric upon his shoulder, carefully lest the gentleman be startled by such a 'familiar' act.
"I should of stayed at home I think. Well I really don't have a home, but I mean Magnimar in general. Ah well Desna prefers optimism... at least theres unlikely to be another goblin attack tomorrow. Alric are you well? I hope so." she smiles at him.
Alric smiles at Arabeth and gives a little non-committal shrug. "I'm not nearly as bad as some, worse than others... I'll live without the aid of a priest, but it will heal faster with assistance. I will wait til others are healed before me though. Thanks for asking, though. I think my shirt.. well... between blood stains and rents from those dogslicers, it's seen better days. Good thing I have a change of clothes in my pack." He smiles and his eyes flash with mirth. "If something had to die, better my shirt than me."
He grows more serious for a moment and his face clouds a bit. "I am more concerned with the others who were wounded, some more seriously than myself. I wish I had the means to heal them myself. An oversight I will have to remedy as soon as I can. I am just glad no one was knocked unconscious or killed, as those goblins turned out to be fearsome opponents."
Arabeth smiles at ALric.
"Were I more in tune with my nature I would gladly help sooth your ills." She informs him before turning and facing Father Zantus. She nods and curtsies to the good priest.
"Greetings Father. My friends have suffered in the assault of the Goblins. Might you have some elixir with which they could sooth their ailments?" She asks, behaving very prime, proper and demure to the clergyman.
She then curtsies again and takes a few steps back, ushering Aimea and Alric forwards.
Aimea submits to Arabeth's shuffling her forward, she looks at the father with a deep reverence, "Thank you for seeing us Father. I was injured in the attack. But heal Alric first, he fought very bravely."
Father Zantus holds out the symbol of Desna and speaks May the Song of the Spheres fill your bodies so that you may continue your journey for another day. He sighs and says There that was the last bit of the divine spark I had within me for the day. Glad I saved it for the Heroes of Sandpoint
Channel Positive Energy 2d6 ⇒ (5, 5) = 10
"Father, thank you... " Alric bows, and holds out a small pouch. "I know it's not much, but let me make this donation to the faith in gratitude on all our behalfs."
(15 gp donated)
He turns to Arabeth and Aimea and gives a courtly sort of bow. "Allow me to escort you lovely ladies back to The Rusty Dragon."
Arabeth as well again curtsies in thanks to the good Father, also offering him a radiant smile in gratitude for assisting her friends.
At Alric's comments to herself Arabeth does blush a little, before reaching out and taking Aimera's hand. She then maneuvers the other woman 'around' Alric so that they are now both on either side of the gentleman.
"Why, Sir Alric, I would be most thankful for your protection upon our way back to the Rusty Dragon on this night." She replies demurely, even as Aimera and herself settle in on either side of the fine gentleman. (^_^)
Bluff:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
She tries to hide the wink she passes to Aimea from Alric. She offers some small talk as the trio make their way back towards the Rusty Dragon, its good food, grand entertainment and their fellow companions.
Cerin makes a bow to the priest. "Thank you very much, good Father, your aid is much appreciated. I am sure our continued good health will allow us to be of further use in protecting this fair city."
He will head off after the others for a good night's sleep at the Dragon, and (assuming there are no other emergencies) will awake at dawn to head down to the shore of the lake for his morning prayers.
I did recieve the healing, but I am sure people will be filtering in all night to receive healing and help with thier destroyed lives. My service is at the father's command
Arabeth nods -as well as giving a small, polite acknowledging curtsey to the brave knight who has been beside them through out the fighting. She also nods and smiles to Cerinnibert as well.
The people who she fought beside soon come back to the Rusty Dragon...the half-elves, the odd gnome and odd dark-haired woman. The odd warrior was not with them. "Three different people, all with strange lineages." She looks up at the sky. "I'm not even going to ask what the odds are on them all being here, becoming so tied together." she smirks, and finishes off her mug of whiskey in one gulp. Grimacing she she hefts her gun. "And why am I talking to an empty sky, eh? There's no one out there to answer my whimsical panderings."
Knocking the ash from her cigar, she takes one more draw, flicks it from the window and hefts her empty mug. "Time for a refill, I think."
Arabeth wanders back into the Rusty Dragon with Alric and Aimea. Quickly she moves to give Ameiko a fierce hug of friendship. Soon the pair are lost in discussions about fashion, styles, stories and gossip. (As well as to the safety of Arabethe's traveling chest and gear)
Arabeth moves about the room, chatting gaily to all. When she comes to Master Aldren, Arabeth she extorts is prowess at arms. Explaining how her group came upon the gentleman, surrounded, outflanked and outnumbered by the Goblin marauders and how he was easily keeping them at bay. It being the Goblin's own cowardly nature and use of their scrappy pole arms that kept them from quickly coming into his lethal range. (^_^)
Perception:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Once a round of drinks have been offered to the valiant fellow, Arabeth disentangles herself from that group and, still holding two mugs, wanders over to stand near Blythe. She indicates one of the mugs is for the other woman and indicates the (Any) nearby seating.
"You handled yourself today with much with aplomb." Arabeth comments, sipping from her mug.
"I'm not sure if we had a chance to introduce ourselves." Arabeth looks at woman trying to hide beneath the large cape/hat.
"My name is 'Arabeth'. I hale from Riddleport to the North." She wiggles about in her seat, adjusting her great, sable feathered cape about her.
"How might people be introduced to yourself?" Arabeth asks.
Blythe takes a pull from the proffered mug. "Good mead, this." she says to Arabeth. "Blythe." she responds, after a moment, looking out at the gathered people for several long beats. When Arabeth doesn't fill the space, she sighs. "I'm from Port Indomitable, to the South. Corentyn."
Blythe sighs again. She raises an eyebrow, and smirks at Arabeth. "Cheliax. Land of devils and deals." she takes another pull of her mead, swirling it around in her mug. "I'm a trader. And Corentyn is one of the major ports on the Inner Sea." She pats herself down, looking for another cigar. "I grew up plying the Arcadian ocean."
Cerin perks up his ears and turns around on his stool.
"Pardon me for interrupting, but did you say you're from Corentyn? I used to sail with a, ahem, 'trader' down there some years back. Those were some good times, Rosa always was a lot of fun..." he says with a grin, getting a faraway look in his eyes.
Blythe stares at the little man, nonplussed. She takes a sip of her beverage. "Corentyn's a big town."
What? I left Aimea in the good company of Master Morgaine?
Arabeth listens enraptured by even this small tale of far away places. A slight shiver of anticipation running through her, accentuated by her cloak.
Sense Motive:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
"A trader..." Arabeth's words trail off for a moment as her mind's eye conjures many an exciting tale from just the word.
"So, you have seen more of the world than just your home city?" Arabeth asks, a hunger for tales of places exotic evident in her demeanor and bearing. She shifts a little closer to Blythe, calling attention to one of the serving folk to bring more mead to ensure the two of them have cups full to match the tales they might share this evening. (^_~).
"And ranging far and wide across an ocean?" Arabeth queries, soft wonder in her voice.
"I but travel the short distance between Riddleport and Sandpoint. Hardly anything of note. Just visiting the same town for a holiday hardly seems to measure up compared to yourself." Arabeth looks down at her cup then back to Blythe.
"Please, tell me more..."
Not just Cerinnibert are you fencing words and actions with, my dear. (^_~)
Oh I forgot he was there ! Poor Alric
"Can I buy you a drink Alric? I haven't much gold on me but I can pay for that, you deserve as much." She says softly, mostly starring into space or listening to the other conversation.
Her hand reaches up and plays with a lock of red hair and she sighs deeply.
Cerin raises an eyebrow at Blythe's reaction.
"Sorry to have upset you, my dear. I meant no offense! I realize that Bleeding Rosa has a bad reputation, but I assure you that she did have a good heart.
He turns to Arabeth, trying to return the converstion to more pleasant topics.
"So, you like to hear tales of exciting, distant lands? I could tell you tales that would curl your feathers! I have travelled across two continents more times than you could count. Now, what would interest a lovely young lady like you...?"
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Aldren Foxglove buys the group a round of drinks more as a thanks to saving his reputation rather than his life.
You guys have until sunday to continue the bar scene, after that I will be cutting the scene and moving to the next morning. Unless stated otherwise I will be assuming you sleep alone.
*Salutes DM DaWay* Aye, aye, Sir! (^_^)
Arabeth is more than happy to share in Master Foxglove's reputational restoration. (^_~)
Sense motive on Arabeth: The young lass is truly fascinated by the different and the exotic. Perhaps indicating her 'normal' and 'social' life is some what sheltered? (^_~)
Arabeth leans back and turns to smile at the Gnome.
"Oh indeed. Anything..." She again shunts sideways, possibly even moving her seat even closer to Blythe in a gesture for Cerinnibert to join their table? (^_~)
Diplomacy:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
As for sleeping alone? Well...other than Master Foxglove and some Player characters. What other choices have we, Master DM? (^_~)
Also Arabeth plans to greet the dawn with Aimea, as per our arraignment. Which is not to say beginning by being in the same bed together, just that Arabeth will be possibly knocking upon Aimea's door for the get together.
Think of all the time it would save walking to her room! =P
Aimea orders a small bowl, and pours some of her ale into it, Summoning forth her Fox from her tattoo she offers him the bowl to lap up. She pets his soft fur and takes another slow drink from her ale.
Well...if you do not mind? (^_^)
At seeing the small animal manifest and remain calm at Aimea's side, Arabeth's eyes grow wide with wonder. She excuses herself from Blythe's and Cerinnibert's company and moves to sit beside Aimea, nodding to Alric again in greeting as she does so.
Arabeth watches the fox in fascination and, after a few more rounds of drinks paid for and shared amongst friends, eventually musters up the courage to ask Aimea if she might pet her small red furred fox-friend.
So, for some one who's from a slightly more 'rustic' setting than Sandpoint (Opinions about Riddleport's status may vary) Arabeth would also seem to not get out into the wolds much, either.
Lets see if shes got the right stuff =)
"You may" Aimea smiles with delight when someone takes interest in her. "He's quite gentle and friendly, But we share an emotional bond.. so today when I was hurt he went a little violent. He really shouldn't fight... but he is protective. All I have really I guess."
As Arabeth is distracted by the cute familiar and heads over to the table, Cerin hops down off the stool to join the group.
He turns to Blythe before he leaves. "I'm sure you would be welcome to join us. I know it's not always easy dealing with people, but it's better than being alone, isn't it?" he says with a sad smile.
He joins the others at the table, complements the beautiful fox, then starts into the story of the time he had to evade a group of Mwangi tribesmen over a mistaken translation between the words for "help" and "eat".
Arabeth listens intently to Cerinnibert's tale, while making sure all are well supplied with what ever drink is of their choosing.
She orders some small meats for every one to share as the night draws on, (Cold cuts from the kitchen to have with bread) and while enjoying the light repast tries to entice the fox to nibble at small offerings. Be it chicken, lamb or venison.
The better to woo said familiar's disposition towards Arabeth. (^_^)
Blythe nods at Arabeth's question. "I've seen the southern continent, and much of the middle."
Eyeing Cerinnibert, she takes the newly delivered mug and grins. "The Blood Black Rose has no heart. She fed it to the Worldwound as a child."
As the two sit uncomfortably for a moment, Blythe smiles as if enjoying it. When they depart, she sighs, pursing her lips and dropping her eyes, before scowling and raising them again, quickly.
"Arabeth if I did not know better I would guess you are attempting to bribe foxy with food and me with drink." she smiled and laugh a bit before leaning back in her chair, letting out a content sigh of relief as her eyes shut for a moment.
Arabeth smiles and laughs along with Aimea. "The drink and food here at the Rusty Dragon could be seen as both a reward and a bribe I suppose." She replies, still concentrating on enticing Foxy into being friendly and/or allowing said familiar to be petted.
Arabeth eyes her own mug, "So...perchance, are you reciprocating the gesture?" She asks Aimea whimsically and seeing the other woman relax and stretch seems to bring a slight longing in Arabeth's features. She absently adjusts the great cloak about her shoulders.
Diplomacy for Foxy:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
"Ameiko dear! one more for the pretty lady across from me! I don't mind reciprocating." she said with a tired smile. The familiar moved next to Arabeth and begins to rub against her leg wanting attention.
Aimea smiled sweetly before glancing down at her plate, "You seem to be quite interested in the new and the exotic, would that be fair to say? Sadly I am just from Magnimar, its not very exotic, though the ruins are interesting if you are a fan of history."