Seraka finally trudges down the steps. While she has clearly already dressed and equiped herself for the day, she lacks her usual barely-restrained fervor. Her feet shuffle along like slugs as her face hangs. She plops down at the table with the others.
"Coffee," she says, not looking at anyone in particular.
Sonya wakes up early in the morning, taking some time to look over notes of the previous days events - or at least the events prior to the goblin attack. She packs her things up, gets all her armor on, and begins the walk towards town with a quiet wave to the servants up early enough to see her out.
Her walk takes her past the Rusty Dragon, in a loop around town before she's satisfied enough to enter the tavern and brightly say, "Morning everyone! Lot's of thing's we have to do today."
Rokan doesn't happen to see any of the people he's looking for as he slips through the cool early-morning streets and into the bustling warmth of the Dragon. Thanks to E's bubbling cheer, he reluctantly finds himself seated with Aldern. The rich man looks pleasantly surprised when they join him for breakfast, and even offers an awkward smile at the not-a-morning-person Seraka.... but he hardly hides how he's looking around for a fourth person, not immediately in evidence.
"Ah, is miss Valdemar not with you all?" he says with ill-disguised disappointment. (It's possible most of his pleasant surprise was hinging on that expectation.)
"Well, a good morning to you all anyway, I fare quite well, thank you. I'm sure coffee can be arranged," he says, eyeing Seraka as if judging how likely she is to hurt someone if she doesn't receive it. He clicks his fingers at the halfling servant Bethany, who dutifully starts bringing over some of the breakfast repast and steaming hot mugs of dark brew.
"There's also tea," Aldern points out, having a cup of that more 'refined' beverage at hand. "Well, are you planning on taking me up on that hunting offer?" he asks Rokan, apparently seeing him as the next most acceptable conversational partner if Miss Valdemar doesn't happen to be present.
No sooner has Aldern said his words to Rokan than the Dragon's taproom door opens and there is Sonya. He smiles warmly, waving at her from where he sits among her colleagues.
"Ah, a vision in that Abadaran gold, Miss Valdemar! Your companions and I were just having breakfast!"
Rokan frowns at the mention of coffee; the stuff was an abomination. He says nothing, though, and turns to greet Sonya as he orders his own cup of tea.
"I hope you rested well," he says, giving Aldern a sideways look, "We're all very excited to see you today."
Then he looks back at Aldern, "The hunt would be nice, though we have a task here in town first. When were you hoping to go?"
"Ah, yes, well I figured it might be nice for the city to be reminded the guard and others are looking after them."
Sonya waves her hand noncommittally, "Rokan is right, we do have quite a bit to look after, I'm sure it will be very busy the next few days, I wouldn't want to keep you from your trip."
Seraka makes no attempt to hide her eyes rolling at Aldern's flowery speech. Still in her morning stupor, she downs her still-hot coffee in one long gulp. She regrets the decision a moment later as she grimaces from the burn. Her fingers dig into the table as she holds herself down. After a couple big gasps of air, she falls back into her chair. She is certainly awake now.
"We have investigations to finish." Her voice is hoarse, but she gets the words out fine. "Hunting can wait."
Rokan gives Seraka a look ... amusement mixed with confusion. "That feel good?" He stands up, dropping a few coins on the table to pay for his tea as he looks to Aldern. ”We will hunt later, then.”
The shoanti stands ready to head out, mentally running through the discussions they’ve had to be ready for the day.
Once alone with the group, Rokan look around, ”So, should we go find his Hannah, first?”
"...How can you stand it that hot?" Aldern asks Seraka in sort of horrified fascination, watching her gulp down the steaming coffee. "Doesn't it hurt?"
Shaking his head he looks back to the far lovelier (at least, in his estimation) Sonya Valdemar, not hiding his disappointment at her noncommittal words. "Well, I was planning on the Tickwood Forest, due east of here. Boar hunting," he says with a hopeful glance at Rokan, who has seemed the most eager of the four to actually take him up on the hunting.
"But I suppose I don't need to rush back to business and my estate just yet, really, if you think you might be free in a few days..." he says, with his eyes inevitably returning to Sonya.
He bids you good luck with your 'investigations,' saying that it all sounds very exciting.
***
Sonya actually knows just where Hannah's shop is-- since it's right next to the Valdemar-owned Sandpoint Shipyard. It's a short walk south from the Dragon to the southernmost tip of the main town where the Shipyard perches, and just north is Hannah's shop, decorated with painted vines and with flower boxes of geraniums and bright poppies beneath the windows. Windchimes tinkle merrily in the ocean breeze, several of them constructed of little green sheets of glass cut to look like glistening leaves-- an homage to the deity Gozreh.
Knocking at the door receives no answer, but a moment later a woman's voice calls from around the corner: "In the garden!"
A short picket-fence separates a small herb garden from the street: an elven woman is here, kneeling in the dirt with a gardener's smock on and weeding the herbs. "Hello!" she calls. "Needing something for scrapes or nicks, a hangover or something more serious? --oh, heavens, you're not regulars. Well how do you do, I'm Hannah. What can I help you with?"
She gives Sonya a respectful nod-- perhaps Belven happened to introduce the two of them when giving Sonya her first tour of the Shipyard.
Rokan cuts his eyes between E and Seraka. "I definitely wouldn't say we're regular," he mutters.
After a quick glance at the woman's garden, then introduces himself in his usual blunt manner. "I am Rokan. We are looking into a few things after yesterday's attack and were hoping to ask you a few questions." He looks meaningfully over at her house, "In private?"
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E gives Rokan a sideways glance and a moment's pause. When the follow up he expected doesn't occur, he interjects.
"Not that we're accusing you of any wrongdoing or collaboration with the little green monsters. Just that you may be able to help us with some background in regards to the city and it's special inhabitants."
Hannah looks bemused. "I don't know much about goblins," she says with a spread of her gloved hands, "other than they're wretched little monsters. But I have lived in the city quite some time, so if there's something I can answer..."
The elfwoman pulls off her gloves and leads into her home/shop. It's cluttered with dozens of potted plants and bundles of drying herbs, but there are a few chairs she manages to clear off. "Tea? And I know Sonya-- at least, I know her family-- and you are Rokan you say... what of you, my friendly little blue fellow, and you, miss?"
If anyone accepts the offer of tea, Hannah serves a chamomile mint blend.
"Now then, what questions do you have?"
Seraka fails to stifle two heavy hoarse coughs.
"Nope. Doesn't hurt at all. Do that all the time."
It hurt a lot.
After years of bland, lukewarm morning coffee at the arena, she had indeed developed a habit of downing it quickly to get through the taste fast. She just now realized she may need to change that habit.
--------------------
Seraka follows behind the others, bardiche draped over her shoulders as usual. She keeps quiet for time being, letting the others lead the questions.
"My name is Seraka. Pleasure to meet you."
”Nope. Doesn't hurt at all. Do that all the time.”
Once inside, Rokan gives Hanna’s home a curious glance-around as he waits for everyone to introduce themselves.
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That clearly hurt... if she's done it many times before why does she keep doing it?
"Perhaps we should find something that makes your innards fireproof... unless you're playing at being a dragon?"
"You surely recognize the swiftest visitor to Sandpoint!" E announces himself by holding up his prized chit for free fish. "Turch called me Erasmus, which is easier to pronounce than my actual name. I go by E."
Seeing the chit in front of himself he begins to examine it, lost in a thought. Why haven't I used this yet?!
"Hey team..." He trails off again, this time having started to speak before having an idea of what he was going to use. Goblin Slayers? No. Sandpoint Saviors? No. Visiting Vindicators? No. Hrm... he holds up a finger, indicating he hasn't forgotten that he was in the middle of a sentence. Sonya, Rokan, Seraka, E. SERS? blah. ERSS? too close to mistakes. RESS? This is hard. "I'll come back to that. Hey everyone, for lunch I'll we should go to the fish market. Yum!"
When no one else steps in, Rokan takes the reins.
”Father Zantus asked us to look into a problem he had. Without dredging it all up, we were left wondering at the deaths of some of the townsfolk from a few years ago, and we were hoping you could shed some more light on it.”
”Father Tobyn and Miss Nualia. We understand they died in a fire years ago, and that you were her midwife. What can you tell us about her? Or what all happened surrounding the birth?”
Sonya graciously accepts the tea. "We thought it was strange that the goblins attacked on the same day as the festival, and wanted to know a bit more about the old church and the fire, in case there was some reason that they chose today."
She smiles sheepishly. "And I know it's probably bad form to dredge things up from the past, but we want to make sure we investigate anything that might help Sandpoint."
Hannah serves up the tea and settles herself on a chair made of a carved stump, with a cheerful polka-dot cushion over it. Though she has the quasi-ageless look of most true elves, there are fine lines at the corners of her eyes that suggest she may have seen more than a few years... or at least, has seen a lot of them outside.
She listens with a slight frown, and a little headshake. "I'm... really not certain that's the sort of thing that... outsiders... need to be knowing about," she begins.
...perhaps reminded that Sonya, at least, isn't really an outsider, however-- just newly returned to town-- Hannah sighs and sips at her tea, fidgeting with a leaf necklace around her neck.
"--well I suppose that any to whom it matter are dead now. Dear me, Nualia, poor child can't get any rest even in death."
Hannah turns her teacup in her hand, peering down into it. "An ugly business all around. She was just sixteen, and I'm sure Delek promised her the stars hung by his own hand and so forth. A girl that age-- especially if she's been sheltered most of her life-- doesn't have the sense to know a bad apple from a fair harvest... still, she might have come through it with nothing more than heartbreak and hard-earned, bitter experience, if not for the-- the-- baby."
Hannah's mouth twists as if her tea tasted unpleasant, and she sketches a leaf in the air with one finger absently. "I call it that because I don't know what else I should call it," she says, her voice low and flat. "It came out of her womb, so by logic it was a babe. But I thank Gozreh that the unnatural thing came out stillborn, and had I known it was in there to begin with, I should have helped her end the pregnancy rather than nurse her through it, and that's not a thing I do lightly."
The elf falls silent a long moment, a remembered horror still on her face. "It had... claws. Too many limbs-- well, some of them half-formed, little stubby things. A mouth full of teeth like tiny razors. Eyes red under a milky film. I have never smelled anything so foul; the birth nearly killed her outright. The blood..."
The midwife shudders and stands, pacing the clutter of her home. "I burned the-- infant," she says crisply. "Anointed the body with holy oils and saw to it that every trace of it was ash, and the ashes tossed into the sea. If you want to know what became of them, you would have to ask Gozreh himself.
"As for Nualia...? I don't know what else there is to tell. She saw the child, before I took it away. I wish she hadn't. She screamed worse than in the birthing itself.
"I did what I could for her poor body. She could have lived, through that. But her... mind wasn't there anymore, the part of her that was... her. Blank and empty. People get like that sometimes, you know, after a bad shock.
"She would eat, if you gave her food, and drink, and sit where you led her. She slept a great deal and I let her, and counseled Ezakien to do the same-- sometimes rest can heal a fractured mind when no herb or poultice will. I like to think that with time she might have healed. But it was barely a week after the... baby... that there was the fire, so--"
Hannah spreads her hands, helplessly. "I don't know what else I can tell you about that tragic, gods-cursed business. Did you have any questions I haven't answered?"
Seraka had wanted to keep up her cool, collected act, but she couldn't, wouldn't. Not with a story like that. She sets down her polearm so it leans against the wall. As she listens to the story, she closes her eyes and stretches her neck, rotating it in slow, deliberate circles. She takes the warm tea cup and carefully uses it as a heat compress on her cheeks and forehead. The story reminded her of many wishes, wishes she must have shared with this girl.
"What can you tell us about the fire? Anything at all you remember. There's a connection to this recent attack and that girl, so who--or what--started that fire could be what came back."
Rokan, also clearly moved by the story, takes a few moments to speak. "That's tragic. I am sorry. No community should see that happen to its own."
He nods along with Seraka's questions, but—once a chance presents itself—he has his own. "And what of the boy. Delek. What came of him?"
Hannah rubs at her hands, musing.
"The fire was... a fire. The church at the time was just made of wood, varnished against the sea air-- hardly fireproof. That's part of why we went to all the trouble for stone, this time," she says with a little sigh. "I don't know what caused the fire. I don't think anyone does. It started inside the church as far as I know. There were candles-- one of them might have gotten knocked over? It wasn't a supernatural flame or the like-- no green fires or unholy demons cackling or that sort of thing."
The elf presses her hands together, lips pursed. "I was called as a healer, but... they were both far past my arts. Quite dead." She sighs, looking faintly green at the recollections. "It might even have started in Nualia's room-- her corpse was barely... well... let's just say if not for knowing the clothes she'd worn, I wouldn't have recognized the remains as hers. So perhaps the fire was hottest there. I'm afraid I'm not really an expert on-- destruction, like that."
She refills the teacups of anyone who cares for more after that unappetizing story, and sips at her own topped-off tea. "Delek? He was nothing special. Human as far as I know, with a glib tongue and a handsome smile, but-- well, I hate to contribute to the stereotypes, but he was everything the native Varisians are gossiped to be: a shiftless liar, ready to cut and run at the first sign of trouble. If Ezakien had collared him he likely would have forced the boy to wed her -- and rightly so-- though at the same time I wouldn't have wished Nualia shackled to such a cad-- but anyway, Delek left Sandpoint. I have no idea where he went. Perhaps the big city," she says vaguely, referring to Magnimar most likely, as the nearest such place. "To win over some other poor girl until he tired of her too, probably."
E's last question earns a sad look from the elf, a sigh. "He... said it was just probably punishment from the gods, for her... behavior. I disagreed. It's all a moot point now, alas."
Sonya looked increasingly tired and sad as the tale progressed. She desperately hoped Ezakien wrong, for if it were true, the gods had simply delivered more suffering into the world.
Hannah was wrong about it being a moot point, though - the priests grave had been broken into, his bones stolen. The only person left alive in the story was Delek, but leaving Sandpoint to go search for him seemed... ill-advised. But perhaps someone she knew in Magnimar might be able to ask around.
Rokan stands and gives the woman a respectful Shoanti bow, ”We thank you for your time. It can’t be pleasant to think back on such a painful experience.”
Then he moves for the door, where he pauses to wait for the rest of the group to finish up.
___
After they leave, Rokan makes sure they are not close enough to anyone else to be overheard, then begins to debrief on what they learned. ”So, a couple of things. First, no one seems to have actually been able to identify Nualia’s body after the fire. Maybe that’s nothing; I have heard fires can do terrible things. But secondly, do we think Delek could have been behind the theft? Why would he want to do that? If Miss Hannah is to be believed, he doesn’t sound like the type to care if his child was killed … even if he somehow heard about it.”
Seraka curtly nods to Hannah, not knowing much about how to comfort people.
---------------
She follows behind the others, although she lags behind a bit more. She pays little attention to the walk itself, her mind trying to full comprehend the situation. She does nod along to Rokan's assessment. She responds almost as if talking to herself, her voice automatic and unprojected.
"I'm with you there on this Delek a%@~&$&. Sounds like typical irresponsible teenage boy crap. I'm betting something messed with her baby for some insane reason, then when it couldn't get the baby, it took her. Covered it up with a fire."
Hannah apologizes she cannot be of more use, but says that if you have more questions, she's usually around-- if not here at her house, then in the woods immediately nearby gathering wild herbs. She bids you a good day and good luck.
Out on the porch of her home you take a moment to compare your thoughts-- somberness seems to have overtaken the little group after the bleak, disturbing tale. Rokan raises a few questions, Sonya raises the possibility of sending an enquiry to her contacts in Magnimar, and Seraka expresses her own grim opinion of the matter. Before E can add his usually more chipper voice to the discussion, there's a woman's voice raised shrilly in the street.
"Gods and goddesses, please-- oh, it's you, surely you can help me!"
She does seem to be talking to you-- there's a woman hurrying your way, wide-eyed, with a small child clutched to her chest, and pulling along a boy of perhaps four years old by the arm. The brown-haired woman is dressed as a humble artisan and her small son is crying noticeably and clutching at his arm; passerbys in the street are staring bemusedly at the scene, but she doesn't stop until she's reached the edge of Hannah's property and stands before you all.
"Gob-- goblin!" she wheezes. "In my house! My husband-- he's fighting it! Please, I saw you fighting in the streets, you know what you're doing! Help us!"
"I thought it was odd that her clothes managed to survive, but not her body - regardless of the heat of the fire.
Sonya glances around as they are walking and lowers her voice. "Why would Delek even want to? Stealing Nulaia's bones or trying to find the ashes would have been one thing, but Father Tobyn? It doesn't make sense."
"Seraka is right, something else is going on."
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E ponders as the group moves outside. Nodding along with everyone's assessment, he starts to speak... only to be interrupted by a distressed woman. His monologue on assessing the evidence at hand, the lack of ability to independently confirm stories, and jumping to conclusions will have to wait.
"Goblins? In your home?" Why would they attack one place? Were they lurking there? That seems too specific.
E listens and scans the visible city, looking for signs of a larger goblin attack.
"Take us there already!"
Sonya's head whips up to see the woman and her son. With the metallic clank of her armor, she rushes to meet her and head the way the villager points, but the much more nimble E soon catches up.
Rokan is ready to rush off to kill more goblins.
Seraka raises her bardiche over her head and throws a guttural cheer. Best way to clear her head was always a good scrap.
"YES! Lemme at 'em."
The woman looks ready to weep with relief, and hurriedly leads you barely fifty feet back the road to the door of her house, still ajar-- speaking a mile a minute over her shoulder as she goes.
"Rallis here, that's my boy-- after the attack yesterday he-- he said there was a monster hiding in his room! Of course my husband checked, we both did-- then put it down to the excitement of the raid on a little boy's mind. Then-- just now as I was setting out lunch-- Ral, show them, dear!"
The small boy slowly moves his hand from his arm, revealing a number of deep scratches and bites.
"Willis -- my husband-- dragged Ral out of the room and then charged back in with a knife! Please, he's not a warrior like you people!"
The woman gestures frantically through the door and up the house's stairs... there are no sounds of battle, however.
The first person to take the stairs up to the second floor sees no immediate signs of any struggle, but one of the bedroom doors is ajar.
Rokan’s eyes are drawn immediately to the open door, and he bars the woman’s way. ”Stay back, ma’am. We will help your husband.” He pushes her and her son backwards, then stalks forward. Once he thinks he can whisper without her overhearing, he does so to his companions.
”There is the sound of … gnawing … from inside that door.” He races quietly to the door, then, making sure the group needs no more preparations, he nocks an arrow and pushes it open.
Sonya bursts through the door - there were townspeople in danger, no time for delay!
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"Oh my... he whispers, approaching the doorway. He unhooks his tankard from his belt in preparation.
He lets the more combat trained members of the rag-tag band lead the way into the room, stepping in behind them to survey the area. If there is anything other than an immediate threat waiting to lay ambush on the first ones into the door, E will find it.
Seraka follows right behind Sonya, bardiche drawn and ready.
Everyone hurries forward and Rokan readies to open the door, only to have Sonya barrel forward past him, crashing into the door! The door flies open to reveal a child's room. The small body of a terrier lies motionless on the floor, a rusty knife jutting from one eye socket. More importantly, perhaps, the body of a grown man is prone as well-- visible from the torso down, as his head and shoulders are lost inside the depths of a standing armoire. He jerks and twitches, his booted feet moving on the floor without finding purchase. The air smells of blood, and something foul.
"Help him!" Sonya shouts to E, running into the room sliding to a stop and changing directions as she sees Willis at the corner of the room. She runs past the knife and dog, and next to the prone man.
Rokan—holding tight to his mask of reserve in the face of this gut-churning scene—rushes in and grabs the man's kicking heel. "Seraka, be ready to smash whatever's in there!" he hisses as he begins trying to pull the man back towards the room's door.
As Sonya and Rokan grab the prone man and try to drag him back, they encounter resistance-- something seems to be trying to hang on to the body. But it's not strong enough to keep its grip versus the two warriors-- Willis is dragged back, his face leaving a trail of blood on the room's floorboards. E is there instantly with a touch, and there's a heartening groan from the face-down man-- whatever else, it seems he's still alive!
But the creature responsible for hanging onto the body is visible in the depths of the armoire, seemingly at floor level-- a green and bloodsmeared face, the teeth flashing in a crazed snarl before it stabs out from the wardrobe at Rokan with what looks like a fireplace poker.
The creature doesn't connect.
Seraka brings up the rearguard, eagerly and expectently checking for more foes as the others secure the body. She runs up when she hears the goblin pop out. She shrugs her mouth to one side and grumbles under her breath.
"Just one. Well that ain't fun."
She swings for it over her allies' heads, notably aiming for it with the flat of her blade.
"I'm gonna knock it out. Bet we can make it talk."
Rokan keeps dragging the man's limp body. "Let's get this man back out of here before we return to help."
He looks back over his shoulder, "Ma'am, he lives for now. Take your children and go get father Zantus! HURRY!"
Sonya picks up the goblin by the legs, holding it as far away from her as possible while it angrily thrashes about. "Got it! There's a sack in my bag, E!"
Seraka's bardiche has trouble connecting given the goblin's hunkered position in the depths of the dresser. Rokan just concentrates on the wounded man, while Sonya decides to grab the bull by the horns as it were.
Dodging an attempt from the goblin to brain her with the poker, Sonya firmly grabs the little goblin. From her perspective inside the dresser, she can actually see a splintered hole about a foot across in the back of the dresser, that the goblin is sort of halfway jammed into. But with her hands hooked under the scrawny limbs, the servant of Abadar has no trouble in forcibly hauling out the madly screeching, struggling creature.
Thrashing in Sonya's grip, the goblin tries to crack her atop the head with the poker.
It's no more coordinated in Sonya's arms than it was before. As the group tries to get the green menace secured, feet are heard downstairs and a man's deep voice - recognizable as Sheriff Hemlock's. "What's going on??" A woman's voice answers him, too low to make out the words.
With the goblin letting out unholy shrieking and clawing at Sonya as best it's able, the group manage to bodily shove it into the sack. A few seconds later, Rokan sees the Sheriff barrelling up the stairs. Behind him is a tall, slim elven woman dressed as though she has but just come off the road from a long journey-- her cloak and boots spattered with mud... and what looks to be dried blood. Rokan might even note the exquisite bow slung over her shoulder, though at the moment she has a short sword drawn.
Belor doesn't bother with introductions just now, however-- his head snaps left to right, a sharp-looking hatchet in his hand as he looks for the threat. When he sees the squirming sack, he barks a short laugh but doesn't relax.
"Just the one, then?" he asks tersely. "--ah gods, Willis-- is he--"
By the look on the sheriff's drawn face, he's clearly worrying another townsperson has fallen.