"Deal's a deal," Molly says, shaking her head as she interposes herself between Yelena and Ghaer. "She answered our questions and I gave my word. I won't go back on it. Let her walk. If she's dumb enough to go back to her horde, they'll probably execute her for blabbing. If they don't, we can fight and kill her in honest battle, with no one a liar for it."
Storn shrugs.
"Molly made her promises and some people care about those. Words are wind, but she seems more trouble than she's worth. Bringing this troll to trial is the least of our problems. Besides, a glorious battle is in our future! There's some good news at least."
The troll looked back and forth at the shouting people. Her eyes showed that she knew just how close to death she was. When Yelna motioned her away, she took a hesitant step towards the stairs, then looked at Molly for confirmation.
Molly raises an eyebrow, then nods at the troll.
"Noted," Molly says to Yelena, her tone now flat and the look in her eyes less than friendly. "But I mentioned the deal on the table. You could've said you disagreed with it there and then. You all could've before I pledged my honour to it."
"Enough fighting. We need to get out of here before it's too late!" Vashta gestures the group out of the horrid basement.
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"Enough fighting. We need to get out of here before it's too late!" Vashta gestures the group out of the horrid basement.
Quill rolls his eyes as *finally* someone else is ready to get back.
"Agreed! We have urgent news to report! We should go tell Kurst...maybe even Halgra! We'll be rewarded!" Quill thinks about Marigold Pottersmoot his crush, and wondering how she might react if he got a medal for this.
Quill eventually shakes off his mooneyes and leaves.
"I would not count on a reward, but perhaps. Let's just hope the real reward is won...saving the town." She says quietly as she situated herself for heading back. "Let's make sure we have everything before we head back...and if anyone needs healing..." she taps her arm.
The trollish female ran off up the stairs and out into the night. As Yelena and Molly bicker about the terms of the troll's release, you made your way the short walk back to town. The path to town branched about halfway there, and Othdan took off, giving you thanks for rescuing him, and saying that his mother would bring some bacon as a reward.
After an initial challenge at the gate, the guards told you that Kurst would be waiting for you in the inn. Kurst was waiting in the Ramblehouse when you arrived. His face looked concerned as he took in your appearance, and the stormy looks on both Yelena's and Molly's faces. "What happened? Was there a problem at the Plaguehouse? Tell me what happened."
Storn opens his mouth and then closes it, stepping back so someone a little more silver-tongued can explain.
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Quill can't wait to tell Kurst what they discovered.
"Oh man, Kurst! There is a plot to attack Trunau!!" Quill begins excitedly. "You see, Kurst, we think the orcs and trolls and giants are planning...blah blah blah....monstrous cube of jelly!...blah blah blah...an old rusty chest....blah blah blah...under the exact same tunic!! Blah blah....and so I...blah blah blah...'mother, it's my body...'...blah blah blah...onions! Like I said, onions!"
Quill explains everything as best he can remember.
Chuckling, she shakes her head at Quill's excitement, "I believe that Molly would be best to explain what we have found, but regardless...our day was full of dire tidings...and it was quite...quite difficult."
Vashta stands at the edge of the room, looking like she's expecting the attack to come at any minute.
Molly gives a concise summary of everything that happened at the plague house, and gives special attention to what Ghaer said.
"So yeah," she concludes. "Putting the town on full alert is a definite must. That and finding this 'Skreed'. Ever heard of him?"
As Quill told his part in the tale, Kurst looked bemused. Surely the words pouring from the excitable fletcher's mouth were little more than a fantasy. As Molly shoved Quill aside and began the story anew, however, he leaned in to take in her words. Kurst listened to Molly's story, occasionally glancing about at the others as if to verify that what she had said was true. When she spoke of the half-orc Daktani and the trollish female, he snapped his fingers.
"I think I know this fellow. He was a drover, I think, and occasionally hired on as a caravan guard to anywhere that wasn't more than a few days' ride from here. I always got the feeling that he though of Trunau as home, though he never seemed to fit in here. Unlike most of the rest of the half-orcs in town, he walked around as if at any moment someone was going to call him a spy for the orc clans and demand his head on a pike."
Saying this, Kurst motioned for Molly to continue. When at last she finished, he shook his head. "And you say you found Roddy's hopeknife on a shelf in the Plague House. That makes some sense I suppose, especially if he recently had one made to replace his lost knife. May I see it? Ah yes, here is Brinya's name. This is the one he lost, all right."
"You know, The Plaguehouse was sort of a rendezvous spot for young lovers for many years. Morbid, I think, but it made a kind of sense. Not too much goes on here that doesn't have Willow Sapperson calling attention to it five minutes later. Couples would sneak out to the Plaguehouse for a few minutes of relative privacy. Most didn't go into the building, but the grounds provided hedges and such fit for some canoodling. I know Roddy and Brinya met there a few times after father forbade their relationship. They stopped a few weeks ago, after Roddy saw some kind of animal or something. Maybe it was this troll you spoke of."
"And speaking of trolls, why in all the hells did you let that one go? We could have learned much from lengthy questioning, and if it played any part at all in the upcoming raid then it deserved any fate we could devise. That's assuming there is a raid in the works. Our scouts haven't reported any unusual gatherings, but you never know. I'll talk to the Scout Master in the morning and get more aggressive patrols underway. I'll also talk to Father tonight and double the watch on the walls. If there is a raid coming, we don't want to be caught with our pants down."
"So, there may or may not be a large raid coming, and a half-orc spy was meeting with trolls to pass information about timing? Was there nothing learned about the white swords? I thought that had to be linked in with this somehow? Do they represent this artifact that the orc chieftain wants? I swear, you've brought back more questions than answers. Not that it's your fault, I suppose, but still..."
"While I have you here, we are going to have Roddy's funeral celebration tomorrow night at sunset. Most of the town will be there, and I know you will want to as well. Despite having known most of you for only a short time, youa re doing Roddy a great service, with no thought for your own safety or concerns. That is a rare gift, nonetheless for giving it to one departed. I'll see you tomorrow evening, then?"
Mariana gives a nod "Of course you will see me. And as far as the white swords...I believe there is a connection somewhere, but it hasn't to do with the raid. There was a lot of digging down in a hole out there...so perhaps they are trying to burrow?" Her voice is solemn but inquisitive. She is clearly interested in the funeral celebration, but the whole situation that is brewing is distasteful.
Thinking a moment, Mariana snaps her fingers, "This Willow Sapperson...Is she the town gossip? Perhaps, we should talk to her, as well...While they are often the source of half-truths and exaggerations they are also often the most active eyes anywhere..."
Oh, well, if I may," a halfling interjects. "I was curious about the swords myself -- clearly they're alchemical, after all -- and, well, Louly insisted I try to see if I could remove them, since that is my field of expertise and one of them has been bothering her as she tries to work in the garden. I'm sure it's some craftsman's personal dye but I think I've almost found the right combination of herbs to remove them. Surprisingly, it's a touch of witch hazel that looks like it's done the trick. Something to do with its astringency, if I had to hazard a guess."
The small figure, his hair starting to thin, looks around as if surprised he'd interrupted.
"Oh, my apologies. Please, carry on. The funeral. Of course."
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I wouldn't mind inviting Marigold Pottersmoot to the Plaguehouse. I won't at all. Quill daydreams before snapping back to the tasks at hand.
"We had to let the troll go...we made a deal. While they might not have honor, we did," Quill defends.
Quill looks over at the halfling, Sander, and smiles. The little apothecaryist had been helpful in their exploration of the Plaguehouse. For some reason, Quill had always felt more comfortable with the more experienced halfling around.
Of course Quill knew Sander's lovely wife, Louly, the one the halfling was utterly devoted to.
I once heard a bawdy tale of a Pirate named Louly. I wonder what happened to her.
"I will be at the funeral tomorrow," Quill answers, honored to be invited though they had failed to find the killer though he suspected it was Skreed and the assassins.
Quill declines to ask about a medal for warning the town of a potential attack.
Looking over to the halfling with a bit of surprise. "Oh, hello there...I would love to see your notes about the swords. Anything you could show me, in fact, would be fantastic!" Her voice shows the most excitement she has had all day, especially since the event with the ghost-like event.
Sitting in the taproom, chatting and reviewing your experiences over the past few days you felt more accomplished than ever before in your lives. And you seem to work well together. You really do...
"Oh, my notes? Really? You want to see them?" Sander says, surprised at the stranger's interest. "Well, I suppose, though I don't know how much sense you'll be able to make of them. My Louly always says I write like a troll that's had its hand cut off and hasn't yet regenerated it." His voice grows warm as he talks again about Louly.
Sander gives Quill a quizzical look as the elf smiles at him.
I wonder what Quill's thinking? That boy can be a bit scatterbrained at the best of time. He looks like he's been playing in the mud again. I should remember to make sure the Pottersmoots to make sure Marigold keeps her distance from the lad. He's just not quite right in the head.
"Do you know nothing of what they could be after in the town?" Vashta asks sharply. "Is there nothing here that they could have a special interest in?"
Her voice is full of worry.
Looking to Sander and smiling brightly, Mariana nods, "Oh yes, very much. I guess if they are hard to read, I would need you to translate, but I am very interested in learning what you have found. At the very least, it will help me with future endeavors or with the events as they move forward. Or with my reporting!" The opportunity for learning is clearly pushing her to open up again.
"Bah, reading! You never get those words back once they're taken out of your head," mutters Storn, shaking his head slowly after having drained several mugs without any noticeable effect. However, the enormous Kellid takes a moment, and his brow furrows before he looks at Sander.
"Wait. So you're saying it's purely al-chemmy-kul? Some herbs remove them? Why the hell would they be there then?"
Storn shakes his head irritably.
"Thank Gorum we've got a raid that could wipe out the town or I'd go insane. So we've still got a lot of stuff that doesn't make sense. We've got the first half of the story, but not the second. We know Rodrik's relationship with Brinya but not why he died, and we know the swords are alchemical but not what they're for. Anybody want to pitch in for a speak with dead scroll? If I can find someone to sell me one. I really did kill the wrong one back there."
Molly glares at Yelena and Storn both, but refrains from saying anything to them. Instead, she turns to Sander.
"Have you any idea what the formula is that was used to make the white swords?" she asks.
"Oh, no. I think only the person who made them would know that. It's his ... or her! ... personal formula.
"And reading is important, son," he says to Storn. "You sound like a goblin with that nonsense. I don't know why the swords are there. Maybe it's just some prank? You know kids these days. Though they do seem to have put quite a lot of effort into it for a joke. If it is a child, he or she is very talented."
"It isn't kids, it's Orcs and Trolls," Molly says. "Any way you could find out what the formula is?"
"Orcs and trolls? That's not good. That's very bad, in fact. I can try, I guess. I was more just trying to get rid of it, but I suppose they would be sort of related. I don't know if I'll be able to, though. After the funeral, of course. Rodrik was a good friend and always kind to us and Louly and I want to bid farewell."
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"I say that first thing tomorrow morning..."
Quill nods as he completely agrees that's exactly what Yelena should do. Quill doesn't see himself doing it because he doubts the elders would want to listen to him...and they had already explained things to Kurst. And if Yelena was going, they didn't need him.
"Maybe some of us should see to selling some of the gear we got down below. Maybe others can use it in their preparations for the oncoming attack that will surely destroy us all," Quill says taking a sip. "We might as well sell that in the morning so we can buy better gear so that we can take more of them to their deaths before we are all crushed by inevitable avalanche of boulders and clubs that will surely come at us."
Quill looks around, wondering who wants to go shopping in the morning.
"Even if we only had good-sized throwing rocks..."
Quill looks at his bow, then at Yelena, then back to his bow.
Or they could have a real weapon, a bow made by a master bowyer and arrows crafted locally...then we might kill much more than armed with stones.
Quill says nothing, but takes another sip of his beer.
Storn peaks his sausage-like fingers, trying to have a think. After a moment he speaks.
"I don't know about tactics. I just know about hitting things so I'll just do what Yelena says - for now. But let's sell stuff, get some equipment, and get to sorting out the town. If I can find that scroll, we'll deal with that as it comes."
Looking up from the conversation, "Oh, I am from a mercantile background, perhaps I could hep with selling things?" Pausing from that line of thought, she looks back over to the alchemist and smiles, "Can we perhaps dine together tonight and go over notes? Alchemy is really fascinating!"
"Dinner? Well, I suppose I could check with Louly. I don't know if she'd like if I just brought a stranger home for supper without warning her, though she does love company. Perhaps tonight might not be best, though, as I assume she'll already have things cooking. I wouldn't want to upset her. Another time? Why don't you come by tomorrow? We're not far from the Commons. And actually, I'd better be getting home, as she's likely to be wondering where I am and worrying about me."
Mariana nods with delight, "Sounds great. Perhaps this Louly can impart some local recipes for me, as well, it's always great to study a culture by what they eat!"
The night passed uneventfully, and you managed to get some much needed rest in the Ramblehouse, or your respective homes. In the morning, it seemed that Kurst had gotten the word out, for the watch on the walls had been increased significantly, and more people than usual were walking the streets of Trunau fully armed. This was a populace used to raids, and how to deal with them. There was no sense of despair or doom in the air, merely a cheerful resignation that this was the way out on the frontier.
All of the shops were open, per usual, and for those with goods to buy and sell, it was a busy day. Word had gone about regarding Rodrick's funeral, and the whole town seemed determined to turn out.
Sander, a knot of anxiety in his belly sapping his appetite, enters his shop early, redoubling his efforts to find some way to remove the white swords.
What could they be? I didn't think they were dangerous, but if those people were right ... ? They'll have to kill me before they hurt my Louly.
He checks again, making sure his weapons and equipment are close at hand. He's no warrior, but if he has to keep Louly safe, then damn it, he'll do whatever he has to do!
Vashta doesn't emerge from her room in the morning.
Molly shows up at Sander's shop with a short list - and a toad sitting on her head.
"Hey there," she says in a brisk tone. "Need some things for the coming days. Five bottles of alchemist fire, five smokesticks, two tanglefoot bags. Can you deliver? And how's it coming with the white swords, mister"
The toad blinks its golden eyes at Sander and croaks.
"*ribbit*"
Sander's eyes widen at Molly's words.
"Oh my. I don't know if I have all of that. I think I could make them maybe, I suppose, but it would take me some time and I really deal more with herbs. I think the That 'n' Such would have everything, though."
Seeing the toad, he smiles and paws through the detritus on his desk for a few moments before pulling a few pieces of long grass off a planting and holding it out for the small amphibian.
"I've been working as hard as I can on the swords. I think I'm almost there. Definitely something to do with the astringency."
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Quill returns in the morning (after praying), excusing himself for another day of fletching in the bowyer shop, to complete the work of the Joint Select Task Force Committee Investigating the Death of Roddy. He hopes the work will end today, so that he might go back to regular work and preparing for the orc and giant attack that will surely level the town.
"Oh, hey Sander!" Quill cheers looking for his friends. He gathers the gear and those who wish to go shopping and does so.
"Molly, Do you think we're done figuring out Roddy's death? I mean, it was the assassins, right? We just don't know why, right Mariana?"
Storn sleeps like a giant hairy baby after a great day of slaughter and intrigue. He awakens the next day refreshed, says his prayer to the God of battle and joins the group to go shopping.
"The question of why is the big one. Someone checked in, we presume arranged Rodrik's death, and made it look like a suicide. Why would the assassins care? I mean - it's one thing to get killed. People do that all the time. But a fake suicide? Who has time for that sort of ninny nonsense?"
While Storn goes through town, he takes a moment, remembering the Iomedean who was in trouble for using a 'blessing' to clean up graffiti, and casts a quick prayer at a white sword.
"Quill...I don't think we have gotten to the bottom of anything, but we are on the right path, at least," looks around and raises a brow. "Where is Vashta? I'm going to go and check on her..."
With that, Mariana goes up to the room that is Vashta's and gives a knock.
There is no answer at Vashta's door.