Sonya searches for the wounds that have so badly hurt her friend, but the broken bones inside are beyond her ability to bandage and apply first aid. She closes her eyes tight as she prays to Abadar for Rokan to not get any worse before they can get him to a healer, and feels an odd tingling. Opening her eyes, she sees a warm golden light pulsing where she is holding on to Rokan and sees his breathing become less and less ragged.
As E arrives she smiles, clutching the golden key on her necklace.
"He should be okay, I think the worst of it is gone."
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"Well done." he puts a hand on Sonya's shoulder, perhaps a little more weight than the friendly gesture intended as he fights another retch.
"Glad you're still with us, Rocky." The samsaran grins.
"I am unable to call upon the healing arts again. However, I believe one of my past lives spoke goblin and that information is coming faster and faster to me now."
I wish one of the warrior ones would come tell me how to endure murdering some one.
Seraka strolls around the corner towards the others. She takes slow, deep breaths as she tries to recover her energy after the strain of her rage. She throws out a single "HA!" when she sees Sonya laying on hands on Rokan.
"Well damn, Sonya. Between this and that smiting thing earlier it looks like that Abadar is finally coming through for ya."
She saunters over and kneels down before giving Rokan a hearty shoulder pat.
"I guess Abadar wanted to help his fellow stick-in-the-mud. Maybe you should convert, Feathers." Her tone has a touch of playful needling.
For a second time, Rokan’s eyes snap open from unconsciousness. He draws a ragged breath, moving his once-broken bones before looking hard at Sonya. ”That was … powerful. Thank you. And thank your god … I guess.” He sits up, giving a weak grin at Seraka’s jibe, ”I don’t know about converting, but waking up to her face is better than your ugly mug.” Surprisingly, there’s a warmth to the insult.
He stands the rest of the way up, gathering his bow before whispering his own words of power into further healing.
Breathing easier, he refocuses himself, "Did I hear someone say something about Ameiko. We should find her." He shrugs, "I'll try not to get killed this time."
Seraka's eyes briefly widen as she actually gets some play out of the stone-faced Rokan. She then grins widely.
"HA! Good one, Feathers. Even so, an ugly mug can do its job as well as a pretty goblet."
Knowing that the need to find Ameiko is still urgent, the fledgling heroes quickly search the cellar, moving from room to room.
This room appears to have originally been a storage and supply room, holding finished sheet of glass and other items. The goblins have been using it, however, and by the looks of things doing 'target practice' on the glass-- there isn't an unshattered item in the room, and scraps of bones and bits of food even the goblins couldn't digest litter the corners.
When Rokan tries the door, he discovers it's locked. However, there's no need for E to try his hand with his new lockpicks-- you find a ring of keys in the room that Tsuto had emerged from, hanging on a nail on the wall. When used, the door to the little room creaks open and reveals... Ameiko!
She is slumped in a corner of the room, unmoving, but a hurried check reveals she is only unconscious, not dead. Her pulse is steady and there's a fresh bruise at one temple, but she seems otherwise unhurt.
(Beyond Ameiko, there's little of interest in the room beyond crates and boxes of glassworking supplies.)
This looks like a small office, complete with a desk, upon which rests an empty bottle of sake and an opened journal! Perhaps of interest to Rokan, there is in fact a shortbow leaned against a corner of this room, with a quiver of 20 arrows...
Additionally, the desk holds a number of pouches-- short inspection reveals that they all contain metallic dust, most likely from the opened safe upstairs-- six pouches containing gold dust, and eight pouches containing silver dust, used originally for tinting glass.
Perhaps of greater interest than all of these is the journal, open on the desk as if Tsuto had been doodling in it when you arrived...
Finally, the last door-- this one appears to have been bricked over at some point in the past, and only recently UN-bricked-- the corridor is cluttered with stray bricks such as the one Sonya originally tripped over. The door itself sits behind the jagged broken-brick wall. On opening it, there's a gust of cool air over your face and you find yourself looking, not at another storage room, but at a quasi-natural, quasi-worked stone passageway that winds off as far as you can see in the darkness. The floor is stone but has enough loose sand on it that Rokan's hunter eyes can tell that this passageway has recently seen a lot of foot traffic... small feet. Like goblin sized feet.
Dun dun duuun.
Sonya drops the rapier with a metallic clatter as she rushes towards the unconscious Ameiko, scooping her up to hear her breathing. The same warm yellow glow she summoned for Rokan comes unbidden as Ameiko's bruise begins to fade away.
"She's gonna be ok." Sonya says, mostly to herself.
---
Sonya waits by the doorway to the room, holding Ameiko up as she glances around the corner. Tsuto's blood had stopped spreading, but the scene was grisly - not a sight she wanted Ameiko to see, nor the glass encased man upstairs.
Seeing the tunnel carved into the wall, the paladin gets antsy - there had been enough blood shed by Sandpoint's people today, and that tunnel would bring nothing good into the town.
"Tsuto had a book on the desk, grab it and we should tell the guards outside what is happening. We can't risk going in there after today."
Rokan tries to focus on sifting through all the new revelations. ”Too many trails to follow,” he mutters as he looks through the journal.
He looks over at E, nodding to the other corridor holding the dead Tsuto, ”Definitely found the half-elf who broke into the town’s burial grounds. We’ll need to take his body back to Sheriff Belor’s office.” He pauses, trying to organize what he’s reading, ”The note about Thistletop, Ripnugget, and Bruthazmus should be taken to Shalelu.” He scowls at the crude renderings of the woman, ” He talks of this woman removing her celestial taint. We’ve only heard of one girl with celestial blood so far. I can’t imagine that’s coincidence, not with what we’ve learned about her experiences in town.”
He holds the journal up for Sonya, ”Any of these other names or places mean anything to you? I don’t like the idea that there’s something we’re missing.”
He points to the newly-discovered brick-strewn cavern, ”That must be the smuggling tunnel. But is that the same place this … quasit and her ‘freaks’?” He squints down the smuggler’s tunnel, ”We should go see once we get Ameiko to safety. Maybe we can get healed up and search this smuggler’s tunnel out before any of the goblins that may have gotten away can report that we’ve found this place.”
Seraka rushes over to Ameiko, her face stricken with fearful concern. Upon seeing that Ameiko is stable, she places a hand softly on the woman's shoulder, muttering something.
"What did that a$+%@#! do to you. I swear, I'll kill him two times more."
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E takes the journal and speed-reads through it while the party attends to Ameiko. Pondering for a while, and assessing Rokan's take he offers a few more ideas.
"We should have the town guard station men here, while we recuperate. Should this invasion they speak of be planned soon, we'll want to bottleneck them here. Hopefully the bugbear and it's minions are not already causing mayhem in the town."
A thumb and forefinger on his forehead, he continues, mainly thinking out loud to himself. "From these notes, it seems that Ezakien Tobyn was the father of this demonic child. That would make Nualia's stillborn a likely candidate, had Hannah not claimed to burn her to ash. Disregarding that, it would also imply that Ezakien was less than altruistic towards his foster daughter."
He pauses to take a breath before letting out another stream of conciousness. "But in this scenario, who is the celestial taint? Cydak had implied it was Nualia, but from this journal's context, it appears that it came from Ezakien. The drawing and the implication that she's possibly a sucubus 'Her Mother's Grace' would seem to mean that her mother was also demon blooded. So, Sandpoint's priest was sharing living quarters with a demon-blooded? Why? I suppose if she were a beautiful tiefling with little telling of her nature, that wouldn't be out of the ordinary..."
He stops and thinks about the now, "Is destroying Sandpoint some sort of ritual, or something that she suspects will give her favor with the evil gods?"
"Either way, we can wait here for something to happen, or investigate this Thistletop... or press Hannah for more details."
Ameiko stirs after the second pulse of gods-given healing from Sonya, woozily opening her eyes, raising a hand defensively. "Tsuto-- no, listen to me, you... uhnn.... you're... you're not Tsuto..."
She struggles to her feet, leaning into the helping hands of both Sonya and Seraka and looking around inside the storage room with near-panic on her features. "Have you seen-- there's a man, tall, looks a little like me but pointed ears--"
Whatever it is you say to her in answer to that, Ameiko seems to be able to read the truth of it on your faces even before a word is uttered. Her shoulders slump and her head hangs. "Oh."
She seems almost ready to fall, her knees sagging, but between Seraka and Sonya there's no danger of her falling to the ground. Ameiko takes a moment in several deep breaths before she suffers being walked to the corridor, and sees that self-same grisly sight that Sonya had hoped to spare her. The innkeeper's eyes well with tears, but she slowly nods, as if accepting the sight before her.
Seraka, you don't know a WHOLE lot about the worship of Lamashtu-- she's not openly venerated in any sort of civilized society, after all-- but you at least have heard the name. The so-called "mother of monsters," often worshiped by creatures like gnolls and ogres, evil, likes human sacrifice, the usual horrible evil-god crap.
E and Rokan muse on the mystery at hand, and everyone ponders a next step. Ameiko clears her throat, her voice sounding still close to tears when she speaks but under a strained control.
"I don't know about everything you're talking about. That man you... that man there, he's my half-brother. Or he was anyway. He wasn't-- he didn't used to be a bad man."
Ameiko gingerly touches at her temple, even though the bruise has mostly healed. "I guess people change.
"The door to the smuggling tunnel has a lock... I think..." she says uncertainly. "It'd be on the keys if so. Can we... can we get out of here? I really need some fresh air."
Rokan realizes his social misstep, and scrambles for something to say. After a moment, he steps closer to Ameiko, ”There’s is always more to the story, and he seems to be acting out of some kind of love. Don’t judge too harshly until we follow these tracks to their final destination.”
He looks at E, ”Getting guards down here is a good idea, to watch this tunnel. But the journal makes it sound like this Ripnugget—who sounds in charge of the goblins—wants to hit the front gates. Maybe once we’re healed up, we can explore this cave and barricade it against further attacks? Force them to go against the gates?”
Rokan walks near E, still considering their options, ”You think that picture is anyone but Nualia? Unless our information is wrong, that’s the simplest way to explain this. And I don’t know if we can assume Tobyn was her birth father or not.” He shrugs, ”Or if it matters, really, at this point.”
"Is destroying Sandpoint some sort of ritual, or something that she suspects will give her favor with the evil gods?”
”Again, I don’t know. If sacrificing her father started some kind of transformation for her, maybe a whole town is a way to do all of her? Either way, not something we can allow. He gives a considering look, ”I think Belor would consider that a failure in our task.”
Seraka tries her best to keep a smile on her face for Ameiko. The woman has been through so much, and she needs comfort.
"it's all gonna be fine. We're getting ya out. Try not to exert yourself too much, okay?"
The more that Seraka tries to restrain her darker thoughts, the more they push back. This isn't just some a@*~~&@ trying to make some gold at others' expense, rival criminals trying to settle a score, or any other everyday evil. There's something deeply wrong going on here. She pauses for a moment and inclines her head towards E.
"I...don't think she means that kinda mother, E. I don't know much about Lamashtu, but I've heard her called the 'Mother of Monsters.' As to what that means, I don't know. I just know this whole thing is leaving a bad taste in my stomach."
Sonya bites her tongue when Ameiko says, 'I guess people change.'
She had looked into his eyes and seen his soul through Abadar's eyes - if he had been a good man once, he had surely changed.
"I'll take you to the Rusty Dragon, or anywhere else you want to go. We can talk about what happened later, you need rest and we need to make sure no one else gets hurt."
Sonya grabs the keys and locks the door, barring it as best she can with anything nearby before returning to Ameiko to guide her up the stairs. The discussions and questions flying between her companions are drowned out as her mind is overwhelmed by a swirl of emotions.
Her mentors during her paladin training had always told her to dedicate herself, to let righteous fury guide her hand to protect others - she had always had trouble. Not because she couldn't summon that anger, but because it became too much to handle, dangerous psychic energies at risk of manifesting without her bidding.
Sonya learned on her own how to control her emotions in times of stress, to focus on one thing that was important to her. So she focused on guiding Ameiko up each step, on Ameiko's arm around her shoulder to keep balance, on keeping her safe.
The tunnel door is locked and blocked to the best of your ability; Ameiko is silent for the progress up the stairs, out through the storage room, and to the door. Ameiko noticeably doesn't look into the furnace room, where the glass-encased figure sits; perhaps she already knows what she'll see.
When you emerge from the Glassworks into fresh air again, it's to be faced with a crowd easily twice the size of when you went in. The mayor is there, talking with several guardsmen and gesturing at the building; as well as other faces you recognize, such as Father Zantus, Sir Jasper, Cyrdak, Savah and Sabyl...
There's a momentary stir through the crowd as you emerge, and then a cheer-- a sort of faltering, questioning cheer, perhaps, as nobody's precisely sure what they're cheering, but there's Ameiko and that's a good thing, right?
Father Znatus and Mayor Deverin stride forward with concern on their features. "What on earth is going on?" the mayor asks as she closes, while the priest looks more concerned with your various partially healed wounds.
"Desna weeps, what on earth was in there, a nest of goblins?" he asks incredulously, little knowing how true the query. "Hold a moment..."
Ameiko takes a deep breath as Zantus's energies fix up the rest of her bruises.
Rokan is momentarily surprised at the waiting crowds—and no little bit uncomfortable with the attention—but the immediacy of the priest’s and mayor’s questions focuses his mind.
He gives his strange Shoanti bow at Father Zantus’s healing, suddenly feeling at full strength, he gives the crowds a hooded look, his voice low. ”Can we dismiss these people? Or is there a place nearby that we can speak privately?” He gives the journal held by E a quick look, ”We have learned much, and time may be against us.”
"Keep watch on the glassworks!" Sonya says to a guardsman who was getting distracted by the cheering.
Sonya searches the crowd and is relieved to see who she is searching for in the crowd. She pulls him aside, "Jasper, please, can you help Ameiko back to the Rusty Dragon? Keep her safe until I come back. It's important to the Mercantile League, and me."
---
"Goblins, yes, but it's gotten worse. This wasn't just random violence like before, they were lead here specifically - they're being directed as we feared."
"Tsuto Kaijutsu lead them here - he was killed in the fighting, but he's not the only one leading them. Lonjiku may be dead - Ameiko nearly was as well. Sandpoint is in grave danger - we need Sheriff Belor's reinforcements more than ever." She lets the others explain the situation in more detail what she missed.
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"I...don't think she means that kinda mother, E. I don't know much about Lamashtu, but I've heard her called the 'Mother of Monsters.' As to what that means, I don't know. I just know this whole thing is leaving a bad taste in my stomach."
"Oh! Good input! That changes things drastically..." E falls quiet as he gets lost in his thoughts.
The cheer of the crowd brings him out of his walking meditation. As the channeling energy of the Desnan priest washes over him, he sighs in relief. "Thanks!"
E approaches closer to the holy man and whispers in his ear, "We need your insight. What can you tell me of the deity known as Lamashtu?"
Mayor Deverin looks somewhat agog at the revelations, including Tsuto's name. "Tsuto??" she echoes. "Certainly, yes, we'll find somewhere private to..."
Jasper comes forward at Sonya's urgent beckoning-- with Cyrdak right behind him. Jasper doesn't seem to object to Cyrdak's being close enough to hear (though if Sonya or the others express concern, Cyrdak will frowningly hang back).
But the instruction from Sonya has Ameiko shaking her head, at first feebly, then more firmly. "No. I need to go with you. To ex... to explain...." she hiccups, and runs her hands over her face. The slender Tien takes a deep breath then squares her shoulders with a tight, aching smile. "I'm the only Kaijitsu in town now, you see. For what little that name may be worth now. I need to be there."
Mayor Deverin looks around, then calls to Sabyl: "Sabyl! May we use your House of Blue Stones to talk in?"
The Tien woman wordlessly bows and gestures across the street to the stone structure she had emerged from earlier. The mayor nods, and your little group hurries across the street.
The interior stone walls of the rather austere building are inset with an abstract mosaic of lapis lazuli, providing a clear reason for the name, but nobody's mind is very much on interior decorating just now. The inside of this structure has a small courtyard with a little stone fountain, low benches, and a floor of carefully combed sand with rocks dotting it and a small red-leafed maple tree. The mayor sits down, gazing with concern at Ameiko, while Father Zantus takes a seat nearby as well.
"There, we should have a bit of quiet," Kendra says, looking around warily. "Sabyl won't let anyone else in. Now, what's going on?"
Before you can answer, Ameiko speaks, her hands balled into the fabric of her trousers. "I owe this town an apology on behalf of my family's name, who are shamed a hundred times over by what has occurred."
The mayor shakes her head. "Tsuto isn't... exactly your family, though--"
"Not him," Ameiko says with her eyes squeezed shut. "My father. My father was complicit in allowing the goblins into town, the day of the festival. They arrived in our wagons. This worthless person will present the Glassworks to Sandpoint as compensation for the blood on the Kaijitsu name, and accept whatever punishment you decree."
There's a moment of shocked silence from the mayor, then Zantus says, "Let's not get hasty. Perhaps we ought to start from the beginning? You mentioned something about the vile goddess Lamashtu?" he says with a probing look at you all.
Sonya is speechless for a moment - she had had a low opinion of Lonjiku for his behavior the other night, but this? Letting goblins into the city?
Amieko couldn't be blamed for his actions - it was already town knowledge how poorly they got along. She just needed to convince the town, and possibly Ameiko herself, of this fact.
"Yes - the beginning. Bethany called for us in the Rusty Dragon, she was worried because Ameiko wasn't there, and showed us a note from Tsuto."
She hands the note to the mayor. "It's in Minkaian, but Bethany read it for us. Tsuto tricked Ameiko into coming to the Glassworks, where we found him and goblins under his command. She was unconscious by the time we arrived."
She puts a hand lightly on Ameiko's shoulder.
"Ameiko, you couldn't have known what your father was doing. You were following your own path running the tavern. You helped stop the goblins when they first attacked - and I know that if you had any idea, you would have done something to stop it even before then. It's why Tsuto knocked you out, wasn't it?"
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"I wonder of Lonjiku knew the goblins were working with Tsuto. His absence during the festival could have been coincidental - but that seems unlikely now. However, he had tried to take Ameiko with him that night 'for her safety' if I recall correctly."
"I wonder what his intentions were. If he knew goblins were going to come back but thought that they were working for him, that would make sense. But they weren't... did he know that? Did Tsuto just show up and take command of them? Why would Lonjiku risk going into business with goblins in the first place? Did Tsuto make a surprise visit, keep him captive, and then send him to fetch Ameiko? Why wouldn't he get help? To save face?"
E stops talking to no one and turns to Zantus. "Yes, what do you know of her and her followers?"
Seraka's mouth contorts and twists as she tries to figure out where to start, how much to say, and how to say it. She finally sighs.
"Hell with this. So...this all has to do with Nualia Tobyn. Tsuto's journal suggests that she is alive and that recovery of her father's corpse was the primary goal of the raid. She apparently needed it for some kind of ritual. Which, the book suggests, is for the...uh...Mother of Monsters."
Kendra listens, her brows knit together, as does Zantus. Ameiko's eyes remain shut at Sonya's words, and she takes a deep breath.
"It wasn't his idea. My father's, I mean. He wasn't... in business with the goblins. Tsuto-- you have to understand, they hated each other. Father because Tsuto obviously wasn't his... never mind, none of that matters right now. I'm sorry, I'm a little-- upset.
"Tsuto blackmailed him. I know this because Tsuto told me about it, last night. Tsuto was crowing over it, that he'd had... 'something' on Father, I don't know what, and that Father had had to do whatever he said. Which meant using the Kaijitsu wagons to get the goblins into town.
"Then, he ordered Father to the Glassworks last night, forced him to write out signs saying it was closed for the day, give him the key to the old smuggling tunnel... Our staff are all Minkaians who came with the family originally-- servants, or rather, the descendants of those servants..." Ameiko looks briefly sick. "I think they're all dead now. The goblins."
Another deep breath. "Anyway, Tsuto... killed Father, last night. He bragged about that too. He thought I'd be happy, because of... because Father and I had fought, recently. And he told me that we'd bring Sandpoint down together, repay the town for all the wrongs it had ever done us." She give a sad, helpless laugh. "Sandpoint has never wronged me. This is my home. He never grasped that. But... he had a rougher life than I did. Maybe if I'd grown up like he had I'd be bitter too."
Ameiko stares pensively into space into the silence following her words, and Zantus clears his throat softly and answers E's question about Lamashtu.
"Lamashtu is the originator of many of the foul monsters that walk the world, like gnolls, harpies, medusas, and worse abominations. Those few civilized races who follow her often disfigure themselves in her service... or the goddess's interest may show in deformed births. She speaks in dreams to the deranged, urging them down paths of monstrosity, both internal and external. Does the Mother of Insanity have some hand to play in this?" he asks, touching the Desnan butterfly that hangs around his neck.
At Seraka'a answer about the ritual, and the revelation Nualia is alive, Zantus's eyes widen. "Desna wept. Nualia, alive? Plotting some horrific Lamashtan ritual? May the gods preserve us."
"The journal mentioned the tunnels - and a quasit that lived somewhere 'below' with creatures of some other kind. How deep do these tunnels go, exactly? Mayor, is there anything else below the city?"
"There were other names mentioned - Ripnugget, Bruthazmus, and Malfeshnkeor, and Thistletop."
You all remember that Shalelu had mentioned Thistletop the other day, in her discussion of the local goblin tribes. She might know more of those names, perhaps.
Zantus broods over the Lamashtu issue, shrugging to himself. "Insane? are goblins by nature insane, or ogres, or.... well, that's a question I'll leave to other heads than my own. I would say that her human followers tend to be mad, yes. And those names mean... just what they say, really. Lamashtu is the progenitor, originally, of many of the monstrous races. Or so the myths say. That she has consorted with many other foul demons, and that the horrors she birthed survive to us today as things like medusas, harpies, and so forth."
The mayor is busier with Sonya's question, looking both concerned and perplexed. "I have no idea," she says worriedly. "I've heard rumors here and there that there's supposedly a smuggler's tunnel in the cliffs, that pirates have run alcohol and other things for years out of it-- but I had no idea it went into the basement of the Glassworks itself, for Abadar's sake. Or that monsters were living down there! The site of Sandpoint was inhabited before the town settled here-- some of the indigenous Varisian tribes. But the Old Light was here, then, and the Varisians didn't build it... so who knows what other structures might have existed here at some point."
She runs a hand through her short hair. "Of all the times for Belor to be gone... I know this isn't your problem, but you've shown yourselves very capable. Can we possibly prevail on you to investigate this smuggling tunnel? I'll find some way to reward you for the risk."
Rokan's face hardens as he wrestles with some internal conflict, but his dark eyes flit over to where Ameiko stands. ”I’ll go.” He looks back at the mayor, ”I need some help, though. I thought I’d be in and out of your town quickly, but if I am to find more and more trouble, I could use some help repairing a bow.” He shrugs, ”It will help me fight these goblins that seem to infest your town and shoreline.”
He looks at Seraka, then E and Sonya, ”I can’t speak for you all, but some rest would be good before we go exploring unknown caves with ancient, unknown dangers.”
Seraka doesn't preen and throw around her weight at the request for help.
"I was planning on going whether or not you asked me."
She nods at Rokan.
"After some sleep, of course."
"Of course - but the others are right. Tsuto was dangerous, and if he and whoever lead him needed what's down there, we'll need to be rested. Will you be able to defend the tunnel entrance until morning?"
Rokan checks to make sure all of his gear is in order while the Mayor comes to a decision. He looks over at Esegia, "I believe I owe you a drink, E. Your first one's on me." He looks at Sonya and Seraka, "Yours too, actually."
"Sounds like a plan," Rokan responds, rubbing his shaved scalp tiredly despite the early time of day.
Sonya worries with her necklace. "Maybe it would be best if I stayed at the Dragon tonight, just in case something happens in town."
"That is wise," responds Rokan, "I'll do the same."
At the words of the bow, the mayor looks thoughtful, and turns to Zantus. "He has a bow of his people-- it's very meaningful to him. Can Desna's grace be invoked, Father? I don't know what your goddess might be able to do..."
The priest looks to the ceiling. "I will pray on it, and see if the Song of the Spheres will lend her blessings to your task, brave Shoanti. In the morning we'll know-- that will give you all time to rest and prepare. If for some reason Desna denies my request, we will see to it you have a bow by some method or other."
Ameiko has been silent for a little bit but she stirs, shaking her head as if rousing from a dream. "You'll need gear and equipment. I remember from my own days on the road. I guess since I own the Glassworks now--" she smiles bitterly, "--the least I can do is help to fund the purging of it from whatever is hiding below. I'll write you a note of credit-- any of the shops in town will honor it, just come get me if there's any trouble." Ameiko starts looking around for paper, and in short order has a sheet of rice paper borrowed from Sabyl's on which she jots down the promissory note.
Meanwhile the mayor has set about ordering a round-the-clock watch of four guards at a time to the tunnels. The news of what has happened-- or at least, garbled versions of it-- will probably fly swiftly through the small town...
Stepping back inside, Kendra Deverin looks to you all. "Thank you for what you have done. Sandpoint won't forget its debts." This seems directed more at Rokan than the others. "A guard's been posted; rest as you need, and hopefully Zantus will see to your bow in the morning. In the meantime, let us know if there's anything else we can do, and of course obtain whatever you may need from the shops."
Seraka will able to find the items on her long shopping list in the various shops of the town-- Zantus is able to provide several of the divine scrolls, and Nisk Tander has acid flasks in spades, for instance.
Rokan digs the bow from his pack. When he hands it to the priest, he pauses for an intense moment of eye contact. "Your attempt will not be forgotten."
Then he looks to Ameiko, "Do you have one more bed for the night? And is there anything we can do for you today?"
Rokan looks to the team, "I still have a discount at Savah’s shop. I’m unlikely to need any of her weapons, but maybe she’d let one of you use it?”
Seraka disappears for a while, running to a few different shops. She returns with smoked goggles over her good eye and her eyepatch, a silk rope wrapped around her shoulder, and a bandolier running across her chest filled with vials and scrolls.
"I'm sure Savah'd be happy to do her girl a favor, after that top-notch pelt I brought her." She taps her thumb against her chest.
"Picked up a bunch of utility stuff. Gotta keep ourselves prepared for any and all weird s++!."
She snatches off her goggles with a dramatic swagger and waves to the various items on her bandolier.
"Protection from Evil in case some evil a$*$@@+ tries to mess with someone's head, Remove Sickness in case one of us starts showing off our lunch in the middle of battle, Remove Fear in case someone loses their nerve, and Magic Weapon because sometimes you need a magic weapon to hurt something. Got an oil of Bless Weapon for the real nasty boys, and some acid in case some f*$*ing bugs decide they want to have all their friends over for a party on our faces."
She takes a seat and leans back in the chair.
"Some of you other spellcasty people might want to hold some of this stuff, just in case I'm in the middle of being Real Angry and am not in the best state to be reading tearable pieces of paper. I'm okay either way, though."
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E grins at Seraka's presentation.
"Well said!" he yells, as he bolts upright and sprints out the door.
He returns some short time later, wearing a bandolier with a few flasks in it, and some scraps of paper sticking out of his pockets.
"Let's hope we don't face too many bug parties." he says as he returns.
Sonya looks up to see E with his flasks and loose scrolls, and says,
"E, you look... flammable. I'll have your sword back to you in the morning - I can clean and sharpen it for you." After his reaction in the basement, Sonya didn't want him to have to clean up after her actions - literally.
"I'll stay by the Rusty Dragon - if I learned anything after the attack during the festival, it's that people will start talking, and without that sheriff that could get wildly out of hand."
Rokan sits at the group's table at the Rusty Dragon, acknowledging the productivity and ingenuity of the group as they pool resources the the trials to come. Despite the high spirits in the group, the young Shoanti can't help but brood over his untouched mug of ale.
"Something is bothering me," he finally says. "What is below this town? The mayor said she didn't know, but surely someone in this town must know something. A rumor. An old myth. Something, right?" He looks over at the more sociable the group ... which is pretty much everyone, "Maybe it's worth asking around town? There must be some kind of history-keeper here. Or at least a rumor-gatherer?"
He shrugs, "I hate not being prepared."
"If anybody knows more about the town's history than the Mayor, it'd be Old Man Qui- err, Brodert Quink. He's been researching Sandpoint since before I can even remember."
"Looks like I'm taking you on that tour after all, E."
Zantus takes the bow respectfully from Rokan, with a nod. "I'll entreat the goddess with all my prayers."
Ameiko nods at the question, though she can't summon any sort of smile. "Of course there's room for you. It's the least I can do."
***
Seraka knows something of the strange threats that can arise due to her time in the arenas: after an hour or two on her own she swaggers into the Rusty Dragon's common room with a number of scrolls purchased-- some from the priest, some from other shopkeeps in town, who looked mildly google-eyed at the enormous half-orc woman requesting magical scrolls, but certainly complied. E too has a number of new purchases on his person.
Shalelu is actually in the common room, though she looks prepared for a journey-- full pack at her feet, standing at the counter rolling some foodstuffs into a bundle for the road-- but on seeing you she leaves off and comes over.
"Goblinslayers it is, eh? Gossip said you took some out at the Glassworks. Clearly you people have the right idea," she says with a smirk.
Shalelu's smile disappears into a musing frown. "Bruthazmus? Ripnugget? Aye, I know those names. Don't like 'em much. Ripnugget's a goblin chief-- chief of the Thistletop gobs. Rides a lizard around the woods and the cliffs and all. Nasty little customer. Bruthazmus, now... Bruthazmus is mine."
She looks very grim for a second, then shakes her head with a chuckle. "...well, I'd like to be the one to put an arrow in his head, but I won't begrudge you the chance if it comes your way. He's no goblin-- he's a bugbear... maybe as tall as you," she says with a nod at Seraka. "Big, strong, ugly, but light on his feet despite all that. Knows his way around the woods. Good with a bow. Likes to wear elf ears on a string," she adds on impassively, though her eyes smolder.
"I can mark Thistletop on a map for you, but if you're thinkin' of a full frontal on it I'd advise you against it. It's a cliff-top island with a narrow bridge out to it-- a little group of goblins could hold it against an army, and if Bruthazmus is part of them he'd be picking people off as they tried to cross or swim.... I wouldn't try Thistletop on my own, anyway."
***
Sonya eventually leads E to Brodert Quink's house, a two-story structure in some disrepair. When the scholar opens the door, you can see the front hall is lined with towering and crammed bookshelves, making almost a cave-tunnel of books. The old man blinks at you and adjust his spectacles. "Ah! Good morning! Or-- afternoon by now? Well, getting there. To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Valdemar? And friends? Won't you come in-- a spot of tea, perhaps?"
When the topic of the Old Light is broached, Quink's face becomes animated. "A-ha! Yes! The Old Light-- which, frankly, I think is a misnomer. Every sage for fifty miles about will tell you that the structure originally existed as a lighthouse in some by-gone era-- there's runes on it near the top that have been translated as pertaining to light, and so forth. On the surface I suppose it's a reasonable assumption."
"However, I have a different theory," he says excitedly, turning in his study to grab half a dozen books off the shelf. "Those runes are Thassilonian-- do you know much of Thassilon?" He looks briefly hopeful before plunging on. "Well not many do. This was, heavens, ten thousand years ago, when mighty Thassilon rose and fell. It's mostly lost legends... and some ruined remains of the world's greatest empire. Ruins such as the 'Old Light'-- which, if my calculations are correct, once stood far taller, even though it looks imposing as it is. I believe, based on my analysis of the buttressing of the base and the sheer mass of the foundational stones, that the tower might once have stretched an incredible seven hundred feed into the air! Can you even fathom it, such architectural genius! And I doubt such genius was used merely to guide ships away from the coast! No, no, I think that tower was.... a weapon. A great construction of magic, that sent not light, but fire, out to ravage Thassilon's enemies--"
A gentle reminder to Quink that you're less interested in the no-longer-extant tower, but rather what might exist beneath the town, has the old scholar blinking and deflating somewhat. "Eh? Beneath? Oh... gods alone know. If my theories are correct, perhaps support chambers for the great tower-- housing staff, soldiers, that sort of thing. But I can't imagine any of the original inhabitants would still be there, ha! Again, ten thousand years. An aeon. I'm afraid my researches have mostly been into the tower itself, and not the infrastructure as it were. Although if you find anything Thassilonian down there, please, please do let me know, I should be overjoyed to see it-- and I could pay you handsomely for anything of historical interest..."
"Oh, uh, yes thank you, Mister Quink. Yes, actually I promised E here that I would introduce you two, and it seems we all might actually need your advice."
--
Sonya waits, blowing on her tea to cool it down, letting the man ramble a bit in hopes of him offhandedly mentioning something useful - a skill she'd learned long ago, partly just because nobles like to ramble.
"You said the tower might have been a weapon to defeat their enemies - how can you tell? It seems dangerous to leave the remains of an ancient weapon laying about in the city, even if its creators are missing."
"And if it was a weapon of some sort... would the Thassilonians set traps to defend it? If they were as skilled as you say, there could still be dangers down there."
Quink taps his chin, pacing in his cluttered study. "Well! It's deduction on my part-- I think that the parts that housed the fire-generating mechanisms are long since gone, you know, the upper half of the tower-- crumbled off and fallen into the sea, or scavenged, or the like. The oldest, oldest Varisian tales of the tower, the nursery rhymes and such, spoke of it being like a 'mountain crowned with fire'.... savages might describe a lighthouse such but I don't think so...
"As for defenses-- yes, traps, that's quite smart! Ho, more than just a pretty face, aren't you, miss Sonya-- yes, I wouldn't be surprised if the old ones had left traps behind, to guard their works. Or, I suppose, such guardians as wouldn't be bothered by the passage of time-- constructed entities, for instance, or the undead.... well, now I'm positively worried, ha. But if anyone can manage it, I'm sure you can."
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The samsaran passes on the tea and pulls out his empty mug and waves a blue hand over it. As it passes over, an amber colored liquid is found inside. "Anyone else?" he offers before he settles in.
He takes full gulps while he listens to the historian.
"Fantastic!" the samsaran grins. "Adventure below, and history to be found. You surmise there's chambers below but haven't hired an excavation team?" He turns to Sonya, "Think of all the things we could find!"
He turns back to Quink, "You would hypothesize that parts of this massive structure fell into the ocean? Has anyone done any coastline excavation?"
"What kind of fire could deal massive damage at a large scale at range? I've seen the arcane and their pyrotechnics once or twice at the Academy, but nothing on that kind of scope."
"Have you uncovered any clues as to the particulars of the thassilonian people who were once stationed here during your research?"
Rokan listens along, though he wanders around in this strange book-cave. Why does one person need so many books? he wonders, but he pushes the thought aside.
Rokan waves away Esegia’s offer for a drink. As E’s questions cover a broad range of general historian curiosity, Rokan’s thoughts go to the more practical. When an opportunity presents itself (likely when E takes a breath), Rokan interjects.
”What do you know about quasits?”
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Quink blinks at E's casual alchemy of tea-to-beer, then smiles at the blue-skinned man's enthusiasm. "Just so! Chambers-- well, hiring an excavation team would have meant knowing a way into the possible sub-structures, but it seems you've discovered that. I'm not certain if anyone else has explored it much, coastwise or otherwise. As for the exact methods of how the tower might have blasted people with fires-- well, presumably extremely powerful magics, the Thassilonians were ruled by extraordinarily puissant wizard-emperors you know, whose like we simply do not have today..."
He yammers about Thassilon, but Rokan knows his own version of the stories of old Thassilon-- the stories of his people, passed down in oral history through the quahs for generation upon generation. The Shoanti say that once upon a time, the quahs were not free, but were slaves long ago in the before-time to great wizard-chiefs. The first ruler of Thassilon was Xin, a wise and good chief, but those who came after him fell to fighting and war between one another, with seven territories emerging, like quahs but each ruled by a dread wizard-chief. The Shoanti were not the only people to serve these "runelords" - the Thassilon wizards enslaved not only humans, but demons and angels, and also... giants. The great roads of old Thassilon-- which some still survive today, cracked and crumbled but made of enormous slabs of marble and stone-- were laid by the hands of giants, bound by magic to slave and toil and create the mighty cities which have all but vanished from the earth today.
The stories of the elders vary as to what actually happened to the old kingdom. Some say the enslaved giants rebelled; others say the people-who-would-become the Shoanti arose and threw off their chains and slew the wizard-chiefs. Other stories say that the evils of the runelords corrupted them from within: that their magics devoured them, one by one. Or that they unleashed great monsters that destroyed them... the truth of these tales has perhaps been lost, after countless retellings.
But Rokan focuses on the now, and on quasits. The scholar blinks, jerked out of his own rambling theories about ancient Thassilon. "Quasits? Quasits. Quasits! I'm sorry, bit of a jump there, isn't it?
"Quasits are one of the lowest orders of fiends, demons. Creatures of chaos and evil! Sometimes they serve an evil wizard as his or her familiar." Quink pushes his spectacles up his nose and fetches another book from a higher shelf, dusty as his Thassilon volumes weren't, and blows dust from the cover before flipping through the pages.
"Let me just see here... quetzalcoatls, qlippoths, quicklings, no, no, too far-- ah, quasits!
" 'Wingéd wickedness from the Pitte be these
"Which ignore fire and frost with ease
"Acid's bite they also scorn
"And lightnings and venoms be thou off-warned.
"They disappear from mortal eyes
"And through fear can cause demise
"If a quasit's death be thine toil
"Anoint thine blade with sacred oil
"Or bear a blade of iron cold
"But 'ware their own venoms enfold."
"Oh look," Brodert says after his little recital, holding up the book: "there's a picture! Ah, good old Quentius's Bestiary..."