GM Haladir's Rise of the Runelords (Inactive)

Game Master Haladir

"Excellent idea! I would think he would be back at the square, as it would be a good central location from which to direct his men. We can also find someone to ask along the way."

As soon as everyone is ready to go, he trots off in the lead, calling out to grab the attention of the first guard they come across, "Excuse me, my good man, could you tell us where the Sheriff might be?"

"Sure, I imagine 'meiko will at least give you a drink on the house anyway."

Halvor agrees with Kyrian's suggestion, although it seems as though everything is back under control. He follows the others towards the square, looking forward to the drink, whomever decides to pay.

Lynnda bristles slightly at the prospect of seeking out the town guard or talking with the sheriff.

Halvor cocks his head, puzzled by Lynnda's behavior. He holds his tongue and continues to walk. Perhaps she had had a bad experience with law enforcement at some point. Or a rebel against authority. She had helped when needed, and that is what mattered.

Aldern looks nervously aside at Cerin when queried about Magnimar and his family.

"Ah..yes...Magnimar. That is where my family was...er...is based. But we Foxgloves have always had interests all along the Lost Coast. What is that? A celebration? At the Rusty Dragon? Well.. I'm afraid I've had enough excitement for one day."

As he withdraws his gaze and attention is once again fixated on Lynnda.

"If you'll excuse my fair mistress, I must bid you goodbye for now. Remember now, look me up in the next day or so and we can arrange out outing. Also, I'll have a handsome reward for you...and your....companions waiting."

Aldern departs the scene and heads east into town and is quickly out of view around a corner.

You notice he leaves his deceased hound behind (perhaps to be collected by servants later).

Halvor searches the dead Goblin for valuables or anything of interest and manages to produce a handful of coins (10 cp, 2 sp, 1 gp). The Goblin is wearing studded leather armour, carries a short bow and 20 arrows and wielded a short blade of excellent quality (all sized for small creatures). Finally, Halvor uncovers a curious vial filled with a bubbling liquid.

After a short rest and some magical intervention from Cerin and Krissina the group begins to head towards the town square in search of the Sheriff. As you walk, Kyrian becomes acutely aware of a sharp pain in his side, an aftermath from the encounter with the Goblins in the square.

Kyrian is slightly wounded everyone else is fully restored

When you reach the town square you arrive to see people spilling out of houses, shops and mostly the Cathedral. Mayor Deverin is directing the clean up activities. High Priest Zantus and his acolytes are on hand to apply their healing arts to those in need. Most if not all of the minor fires have been put out by the townsfolk. The town watch has either dispatched or subdued any remaining Goblins. Numerous dead Goblins are being collected and loaded onto carts. When the townsfolk notice you have entered the square, you see smiles and admiration on their faces. Several people actually thank you personally for your part in the defence of the town. As you are taking in the scene, Sheriff Hemlock and several town guard come hustling into the square. You overhear as the Sheriff reports to the Mayor Deverin.

"It seems to be over ma'm. We can find no more of the evil folk infesting the town. The perimeter is secure. I've got men posted all over town. I've also called in the auxiliary guard. A handful of men are being armed at the garrison now. We should have most of the auxiliary guard armed and posted within the hour. Most of those little buggers fought to the death. The survivors tried to flee North. Many of them leapt off Junkers Edge to crash on the rocks below rather than face capture! Some Goblins did escape to the North. We've captured three of the bastards and have them secured at the garrison now."

The Mayor seems calm and collected as she listens. She replies to the Sheriff;

"Hopefully we can find out more from the captives. Perhaps Vachedi can convince them to talk. Have you been in contact with Shalelu? Perhaps she can tell us more. I'm surprised she didn't give us any warning of this attack! I hope nothing foul has befallen her."

"No ma'm. I've not been in contact recently with Shalelu, but she is not due to check in for a while yet. I'll try and send word out to the Hinterlands that we are looking for her. I'm sure someone has spotted her."

One of the town guard taps the Sheriff on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. In response, he turns and observes you standing in the square accepting the thanks of the villagers. A look of respect and acknowledgement passes over Sheriff Hemlocks face.

"Madam Mayor, we got beat up and bloodied by this dastardly attack. But it could have been much worse. Frankly if it wasn't for the intervention of these folk here He gestures at you all we might have suffered far worse."

The mayor looks at each of you briefly, as if she were looking for something in your faces. Then she steps boldly forward and steps up to the raised platform before the square.

"Friends, hear me now. We have been hit hard, but we have endured! And thanks to these noble defenders this cowardly sneak attack has been thwarted. These heroes have turned this day away from disaster and into one of renewed celebration. So raise up a glorious cheer and give thanks to your heroes. The Heroes of Sandpoint!"

With that the crowd erupts in cheer and fanfare. After a few moments when it seems that the cheering might die down some enterprising acolyte starts ringing the bells of the Cathedral. As the gongs of the bells drone over the town the crowd rises up in applause and cheer even louder than before. You are all jostled around as the crowd gathers about you and lays hands on your shoulders and arms in gratitude.

After the crowd in the square settles down Mayor Deverin continues.

"For now we have much work to do. We also have many questions that need answering. Rest assured that we will get to the bottom of this evil plot."

The crowd seems content and in agreement in general. People begin to go about their business and the crowd begins to disperse. The Mayor beckons you to come forward and join her and the Sheriff.

"Once again on behalf of Sandpoint, allow me to extend my thanks. For now we have further business to attend to. I'm hoping that you'll be staying in Sandpoint a while. We can certainly use your help to get to the bottom of this Goblin business. The gods know, Sheriff Hemlock has been pestering me for years for more men and more resources. We barely have enough trained soldiers now to hold the town. We'll what say you? Will the Heroes of Sandpoint stand ready to assist us in our time of need?"

Halvor smiles shyly at the Mayor's proclamation, at first only holding his hand up, then waving it as his smile turns into a grin. He turns in a full circle, soaking it in. After a moment he realizes he might be acting...foolish and rests his hand back down, turning his attention back to the Mayor and Sheriff.

The bottom of it? Did the Mayor think there was more to this than just mindless goblin shenanigans? Halvor's brow beetles again in confusion...did they know something he didn't? He shrugs internally, it didn't really matter. He had gotten his wish, he was a hero. A small-time hero, for sure, but it was a start.

He nods at the Mayor, crossing his arms. "You may be certain I shall assist you and Sandpoint, Mayor Deverin." How had that sounded? Should he have drawn his sword and laid it at her feet? Stupid! Too late now...

Krissina blushes bright red at the praise, and tries to position herself behind the others out of sight.

"Halvor, would you mind if I took a look at that blade?" Cerin asks as the warrior finishes checking the fallen foes.

Goblins do not usually have such fine weapons. He could have stolen it, but maybe it will give us some clue... he wonders as he inspects the sword, looking for a crafter's mark or some indication of where it came from.
Appraise +2, Knowledge (History) +4

He looks slightly amused at the huge fanfare they receive and nods appreciatively at the Mayor's wisdom in realizing this was not just a random attack. "Indeed, we would be happy to place ourselves at your disposal, Madame Mayor!" If he did find anything unusual about the sword, he brings it to their attention.

As he scans the crowd, he notices the injured shopkeeper, and remembers his promise to see to the man after the fighting. Shifting closer to Krissina, he whispers "I noticed you have some healing ability, would you happen to still have the energy for one more act of mercy? That shopkeeper was accidently injured in the battle by 'friendly fire' and I told the man I would look after him. I would aid him, but I am unfortunately spent until I can get some rest and prayer."

Halvor gladly relinquishes the blade to Cerin for inspection.

At first taken somewhat aback by Foxglove's forwardness, Lynnda quickly warms up to him.

Well, then... perhaps this guy could be an opportunity. He may not have money in Abadar's vaults, but probably is the kind to throw around cash to show everyone how rich he is. Now to get him to throw it my way...

"Mr. Foxglove, you are quite the charmer! On second thought, a hunt sounds delightful. Good luck in your business dealings."

After Foxglove takes his leave, Lynnda exhales slowly and rolls her eyes. "Well, he seems a rich fool. Of course, you know what they say about fools and money," she mutters with a smirk.

Shadow, perched on the young woman's shoulder, narrows her amber eyes at the nobleman and folds back her ears.

--Suspicion--

. . .

At the meeting with the mayor and the sheriff, Lynnda doesn't say much, but when the Mayor address the crowd, she waves at them with a slightly embarrassed smile. The smile remains when the mayor proclaims her one of the "Heroes of Sandpoint," an honor she's not quite sure how to take.

Instinct says to milk this honor to translate it to some coin. But it feels wrong to do that. Two months off the road...am I getting soft already?

The mayor's charge pulls her out of her moment of introspection. "You have my help, Madame Mayor!" she proclaims to her own surprise.

I'm a brigand, and I was just named a hero if this town. And I've never felt like this before. Is this how it feels to do the right thing?

Shadow sits tall on Lynnda's shoulder, purring loudly.

--Proud--

Kyrian stays quiet while the mayor speaks to the group, while clutching his wound as it starts to encounter the loss of adrenaline and it's sting progresses. He walks over to the shop keep whom he shot earlier, an expression of sorrow upon his face. "So uh, hey... About earlier, I apologize for my arrow hitting you by accident, it's certainly not what I intended. My name is Kyrian, and I do believe sir, that I owe you a vast multitude of drinks for that injury."

Cerin takes the Goblin blade in hand from Halvor and examines it...

Halvor cocks his head at the sorceress's comment about fools and money. He actually doesn't know what 'they' say about the idea, but he has a general idea it isn't pleasant, at least for the fool, as he notes her smirk.

He watches Kyrian advance to the wounded villager and speak with him, and nods in satisfaction. It was accidental, but it was noble of the archer to speak with the man.

Halvor looks back to the Mayor expectantly, waiting for Kyrian and possibly Krissina to make their way back over to the group before they decide on what's next.

Halvor cocks his head at the sorceress's comment about fools and money. He actually doesn't know what 'they' say about the idea, but he has a general idea it isn't pleasant, at least for the fool, as he notes her smirk.

To Halvor's quizzical expression, Lynnda replies, "It's a Varisian proverb. Un prost si banii lui sunt în curând s-au despărțit." She pauses. "'A fool and his money are soon parted.' I think it sounds better in Varisian."

"Mrrrow!"

Shadow looks at Halvor with a seemingly mirthful expression.

Mayor Deverin looks pleased with your answer.

"Excellent. Then it’s settled. I leave you to work out the details with Belor…um, excuse me I mean. Sheriff Hemlock here. You’ll be working closely with him but feel free to report to me as you see fit. And if you need anything, just let my office know. I assume that you can handle your own accommodations and provisions? Thanks to your new found fame, I’m sure you’ll find the town more than generous in that regard. I have much business yet to tend to this day. Goodbye for now."

With that the Mayor departs to direct the clean-up efforts and assess the damage around town. Sheriff Hemlock next addresses you;

”I’m grateful that you’ll be helping out. For now I’m still got a lot of work to do before the town is completely secure. Can you make yourselves available later this evening? Say after supper at the garrison? We will hopefully have more information by then and be in a better position to plan our strategy. If you can dig up anything useful between now and then, all the better. See you tonight.

The Sheriff smartly turns and marches out of the square with a small squad of guardsmen in tow.

Kyrian walks over to the other side of the square and attempts to make amends with the wounded villager. His words seem to fall on deaf ears however as the man still wears a look of malice towards Kyrian.

”Arghh! To the infernal realms with your apologies. You may have the Mayor, the Sheriff and all these other people charmed but I know a pack of no good sell-swords when I see them. In fact, it’s probably that raven haired witch or that fiery tavern wench that has put a hex on everyone.”

As the man becomes more excited he tries to rise and the temple acolyte tending his wound looks on, embarrassed. As the man puts weight on his leg he winches in pain and collapses once again.

”Look at the mess you’ve caused. How’s a man to tend to his business and his family with a wound like this? Are you willing to pay brother Abstalar for treatment? I thought not. Oh and I wouldn’t bother setting foot inside my store while you’re in town if I were you. You and your kind are not welcome at the General Store (building #26). And if I see you, any of you, anywhere near my daughters I’ll have you flayed and hung up in front of my store.”

Just as the man tries to rise again an attractive young woman with auburn hair wraps her arm around the man and begins to guide him away.

”Oh dad, calm down. I’m sure you’ll be right as rain soon enough. And from what I saw these folk killed plenty of those awful green skins. Come now, let’s get you home to mom.”

As the pair slowly hobble away, the charming young beauty looks back as gives Kyrian a quick once over with her alluring eyes. Afterwards, in apparent approval, she winks suggestively at Kyrian and purses her lips then turns and assists her father away with a devilish grin on her face.

Cerin nods to the Sheriff. "Of course, we are at your disposal!"

His ears perk up and he turns to look at Lynnda when she recites the proverb. "That sounds delightful! Very different from most of the other languages of this area. Perhaps I could hear a bit more of it while we take our refreshments?" he asks with great eagerness.

Hmmmm, said that way the proverb made plenty of sense. However, he had seen the smirk and could guess at the intentions behind it. He makes an effort to not judge and gives Lynnda a tight smile as he nods. "I understand. Thank you for the enlightenment. I grew up in a rural area and didn't pick up much on things of that nature." He glances at the cat with interest. The eyes of the thing practically shone with intellect.

Halvor again nods as the Mayor talks. In her speech he heard the main thing of note, the command structure. Sheriff Hemlock is the direct superior, go to the Mayor if there is a problem. Halvor likes regimented order, and this makes him feel more comfortable with the situation. He lets Cerin answer for him as he overhears the conversation turned angry shouting across the square.

He couldn't really blame the man, he was clearly stressed because of his injuries. Halvor still felt sympathy for poor Kyrian, even more so after the archer apparently garnered the attentions of the aforementioned daughter. He wondered wryly if Hemlock could supply provisions, if needed.

"It's Cerin, right? It's been a while since I've chatted with a servant of Gozreh. Or a gnome, for that matter. That language is Varisian-- the tongue of the people who wandered these lands for millennia before the Chelish came. I'm not Varisian by blood, but a few camps consider me one of their own."

. . .

Catching snippets of the shopkeeper's shouted diatribe at Kyrian, Lynnda avoids his gaze and tries to keep members of the crowd between herself and the injured man. He's probably not happy that I ensorcelled him during the attack. Oh well-- probably saved his life.

Shadow, again perched on Lynnda's shoulder, cocks her head to one side and glares through narrowed eyes at her master.

"What? Oh, don't give me that!"

At that, the black cat leaps from the woman's shoulder, steps in front of her, and flicks the tick of her tail at Lynnda.

"I'll take it under advisement." mutters Lynnda, as she scoops the cat back up.

Realizing that she has witnesses to her speaking to her cat, she smiles, and sighs, "Pets. You know."

The cat continues to glare at her.

. . .

After listening to the mayor's instructions, she nods in agreement.

I just agreed to work with the sheriff! Mom and Dad would not approve. And Redshiv would tell me to use it to run a long game.

With laughter in his eyes he comments, "I think she's the one who regards you as the 'pet'! Don't worry about it, I talk to animals all the time. I find that they are quite often much better listeners than people..."

Cerin reaches down to scratch Shadow under the side of her chin. "They do take so long to train don't they?" he comments to the cat, indicating Lynnda with a nod of his head.

Krissina's not quite sure how to take Cerin speaking to the cat, so she chooses to ignore it.
"I'm not sure I can get used to being called a hero, 'specially as you all did most of the work, come now, lets get back to the Rusty Dragon and have a drink, I for one think my nerves need steadying."

He grins, looking to the redhead, "Don't be modest, you cracked a few skulls out there, too!" His brow furrows as he realizes this might not be the best compliment for a lovely young lady. He mumbles, "A drink would be great."

Krissina's not quite sure how to take Cerin speaking to the cat, so she chooses to ignore it.

"I'm not sure I can get used to being called a hero, 'specially as you all did most of the work, come now, lets get back to the Rusty Dragon and have a drink, I for one think my nerves need steadying."

"There's many types of heroes, and I'm sure that you are one of them. Another way to show heroism might be to use your healing touch on our intrepid archer and his 'friend' over there." Cerin gently suggests, pointing in the direction of Kyrian and the shopkeeper angrily marching away.

As the man responds with hatred in his voice towards the apology, Kyrian doesn't take to the words kindly. After the shop keep's first shouting, he doesn't hesitate to fire back at him. "No good pack of... Last time I checked out there, we were the ones fighting to try and save you all! We were the ones who just up and jumped out to join guards and kill these lil' bastards while you all were running in chaos, so it's not my fault you got in the way. Besides, that 'witch' saved our asses out there anyways!" As the man tries to stand up and falls over, and continues to berate at him, Kyrian begins to feel even more insulted.

"Are you kiddin me? All you need is a crutch and you'll be fine! Look at this," as Kyrian points to his burn, "I damn near got roasted alive trying to save you, you damned..." His words slow and stop as he sees the woman approach and help him up. Hearing her speak as he makes the connection of who she is, his mind freezes up for a second as she shoots him her look before he finally thinks. "THAT'S HIS DAUGHTER? BY CAYDEN'S FRIGGIN MUG! Ah hell, she better be worth being 'flayed alive'..." Sighing for a brief moment and lowering his head, he mutters a few words to himself before speaking back out to the man. "Well damn, sorry Mila, gotta be 'stupid' for a moment... HEY! Wait up! How about instead of being a 'no good sell sword', why don't you take it easy for a moment or few and I'll help you out until you get back on your feet! Just think of it, you've got a free slave now for the time that you're out of commission!" "She better be worth this trouble..."

As the day wears on and supper time draws closer you meander back to the Rusty Dragon Inn. Mostly the town seems to have recovered quite well after the Goblin attack. All of the bodies and debris have been cleared away and the terror and adrenaline have both worn away. The common room of the Inn is bustling by the time you enter. As you are spotted the crowd gives a heightened cheer. A table is quickly cleared and mugs of ale are thrust into your hands. An energetic young man steps one foot up on a table and raises his mug.

”Let’s have a toast and another cheer for the heroes of Sandpoint!”

Mugs and glasses are raised across the room and a rousing cheer it put forth by the crowd. The room settles down and everyone is enjoying their drink and food while sharing exciting stories of the attack.

A short time later, Ameiko enters the common room and promptly sides up to your table.

”Well done my friends. I’ve not seen thrilling heroics like that since I was on the road chasing down my own adventures. Of course, the Rusty Dragon is proud to host such a noble band such as yourselves. Please lodge here free of charge! I’ll even pick up your meals and drinks if you promise to enthrall my patrons with your heroic tales each night. And Krissina, take some time for yourself and enjoy this girl -You’ve earned it!”

A pleasant meal is served by the friendly staff of the Rusty Dragon. You have a short time yet to relax and converse before its time to head to the garrison for your appointment with the Sheriff.

Halvor gladly takes a tankard and lifts it in the air to salute his fellow patrons before tossing it back. Ahhh, that hit the spot. He seats himself to ejoy the meal, smiling shyly at Ameiko. "Thank you for your generosity, ma'am."

Halvor will gladly entertain anyone who asks about the attack if for no other reason than to earn the free meal, but if left to his own devices will let Cerin and the others do the lions' share of the talking. He is bubbling with excitement, and is anxious about the meeting this evening. He has already served on the guard in Sandpoint, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. Maybe this would be more...freelance work.

After enjoying a bit of food and a much slower second mug, he turns to his companions. "Perhaps we should make some inquiries? If this attack was organized, then there was an objective beyond mindless goblin suicide. Maybe see if anything was stolen, or where the fighting was heaviest?"

Kyrian lifts his mug up to Amieko in gratitude for the mention of free food, lodging, and his favorite words, free drinks. "Ma'am, no need to thank us that much, but who am I to turn down such gracious hospitality?" he says as he slams the beverage back and brings the mug back down to the table. Enjoying the food and celebration, occasionally even getting up to dance and move around like an idiot, he eventually comes back to the table with comrades. Hearing Halvor speak, he lets out a slight groan. "Really? I highly doubt that those green little freaks could actually come up with a plan like that? It was a raid by simple minded little creatures who do nothing but cause panic and fear, with occasional blown up building sure, but anything with actual purpose? Where in the abyss are the gonna find leadership of that caliber?" he says as he pauses to take a drink. "Even if by some random chance these maniacs actually found a maniac to follow, who would even have it out for this, fine, lovely beautiful haven?" he finishes saying while smiling at a woman who passes by the table whom he finds attractive.

"Thank you for your generous hospitality! Hopefully my poor skills will suffice to entertain your clientele."

A short while later, Cerin is on his third ale and seems more animated than ever. He whirls around the room like a hummingbird on speed, first aweing some wide-eyed ladies with a vivid description of the Starstone Cathedral in Absalom, then telling off-color jokes to a group of merchants before standing on a table re-telling the final moments of their battle to a large group of youngsters.

"...and so, with his legion of vile rat-dogs slain the Goblin Chieftan screamed his defiance at us! Kyrian darted forwards, agile as a jungle cat, to slice the legs out from under the Chief's mount! Crashing to the ground, the Chief tumbled free amd looked about for some means of escape, but mighty Halvor swung his sword around in a glittering arc to sever the monster's head clean from his body in one powerful stroke!"

His audience cheers at the (exaggerated) exploits of the group, many of them looking in awe at the heroes. As Cerin hops down from the table and rejoins them, there are mutters about who was the best, the mighty fighters Kyrian and Halvor or the powerful magic of the Sorceress Lynnda and Priestess Krissina.

Catching Kyrian's comment, he fishes in his pack and slams the dogslicer down on the table.

"Do you know what this is? What it means? This is a finely-made weapon of very high quality, almost the equal of any made by the best blacksmiths in this town. And it was crafted by a goblin!"

He points to the mark on the blade. "A goblin who put the mark of his tribe on it! Goblins don't craft things, they shteal them or kludge together junk into make-shift weapons. This indicates a higher level of organizashun than is usual, and it means Trouble! This tribe could shtart gathering other tribes together into a gobin horde!"

He leans back in his chair and calls for another ale.

Cerin reaches down to scratch Shadow under the side of her chin. "They do take so long to train don't they?" he comments to the cat, indicating Lynnda with a nod of his head.

Shadow purrs loudly at the attention. Lynnda laughs at the gnome's words, and with a smile replies, "Cerin, please don't give her any ideas!"

To Krissina, she adds, "You were amazing. Normal people run away from danger. Honestly, if anyone isn't worthy of being called a hero, it's me."

. . .

At the Rusty Dragon, Lynnda thanks Ameiko for her generoisity. At dinner, she puts a few bits of meat and fish on a bread plate, and set it under her chair for Shadow to enjoy. The sound of the cat's purring can be heard even over the din of the barroom. Lynnda appears to be enjoying her new-found fame, and knocks back a few pints of ale.

As Cerinnibert tells the exaggerated tale of the Battle of Goblin Day, some children press closer to their table. With a wry grin, Lynnda winks at them and casts a spell. Above her hands appear doll-sized, toy-like, translucent images of the scenes as Cerinnibert describes them. At the climax of the story, her cartoon of Halvor knocks the goblin's head off, which goes flying out of the illusion, bouncing on the ground like a soccer ball. The image of the headless cartoon goblin chases after its head before falling over in comic fashion.

Illusion created via prestidigitation.

. . .

Weighing in on the exchange between Cerin and Kyrian, she comments, "Kyrian, until this afternoon, I would have agreed with you. Goblins are usually far too occupied fighting themselves or lighting their own huts on fire to be an organized threat. But something compelled them to attack a town. That's unlike any goblins I've ever met. Cerin, I think you're right-- something or someone decidedly un-goblin-like has to be leading them. I'm willing to wager that the sheriff and mayor are of the same opinion, and that's why they want our help."

Halvor nods at Cerin's logic, grinning as the gnome keeps tipping them back. The young warrior does not have a way with words, so is glad to have him and and the rest maintain the chatter while Halvor basks in the glory, relatively unscathed.

He glances to Lynnda as she speaks. That was his exact line of reasoning (The Mayor and Sheriff), hence the question about inquiring around. The lovely woman certainly had a way with the children, and loved to talk. He remembers Cerin's earlier words of warning and instead glances to the other silent member of the party, Krissina.

"It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?"

"Moreover, the goblins were in a cart, did someone bring them into town on it? There are many strangers here today, I fear to think that some of them wish Sandpoint harm."

To Kyrian at some other point, when their seems to be an opening and before he's too drunk.

"Are you still wounded Kyrian, I can help with that."

Kyrian frowns for a moment. Okay, suppose there's an actual plan here. What's the endgame? You go after a place like Magnimar, you do it politically and have some rich bastards behind you. Riddleport? You go after it's market, the place is an economical powerhouse here in wonderful Varisia. Sandpoint? It's s founder's town. There is no need to attack the place with goblins. So the question begins with the simple reason. What, if there is, the endgame? If you want to solve this, figure that question out first, my professional advice for you." He continues on with his ale as he hears Krissina's question. Knowing full well that the burn hurts like a monks fury of blows that even the ale can no longer hold back, he attempts to keep the straight face. "Hmm? Oh, no need to worry about me Red, I'll be fine. Thank you for caring though, I'm very flattered..." he smiles while raising the mug in his hand to her and slamming it back until it was no more once again. "Damn, I'm out again..."

If Krissina want to, I'll make a Bluff check vs her Sense Motive to hide his pain from the wound.

Halvor looks levelly at his companions as they talk around him, quickly getting agitated even through all the revelry. "Instead of discussing a motive we are unsure of, I propose we go ask some questions before we meet with the sheriff, as I said. Where were the attacks most brutal? Was there anything taken? As a matter of fact, I will be heading out after this tankard right here."

Cerin snorts at Kyrian's bluff. "Don't let him fool you, I saw the burn he took, it was a nasty one. Take advantage of healing when it's offered, you could end up dead tomorrow!"

He takes another long drink from his mug as Halvor speaks and announces a bit too loudly, "Capital idea! Let's start getting shome answers! But, do we really need to go anywhere? Why not start here, I mean, most people are probably gonna be huddling in their homes after the scare they got today! And you got a whole bunch of people right here, a captive audience!"

He gestures around the room at the crowd he had so recently been entertaining.

Cerin once again ran mental circles around him, even full of drink. He had thought to pout and sulk, and look where it had gotten him. His face aflame, he rises to his feet, not really looking at any in the crowd as his vision hazes. "Ummm...did anyone see where the, ya know, main goblin force was? Errrr....does anyone know if they took anything?"

On the verge of panic, he looks to Cerin, wide-eyed. He hadn't really put any thought into the how of asking questions, just that they should be asked.

Krissina studies Kyrian for a moment, trying to decide if he's just putting on a brave face or not.

Indicating the healing flames Krissina just summoned, Lynnda replies, "You are much more than a tavern girl-- you're some kind of witch. Oh, I mean no offense!" She pauses, flashing her wry grin again. "I mean, it takes one to know one."

Kyrian almost falls out of his seat once he sees Krissina place her hand on his wound and heal it with a flash of flame. Regaining his composure as Lynnda finishes speaking to her, he pipes up with a follow up. "I wouldn't go as far to even thinkin a witch. I haven't had a touch from a woman that felt that good in a while now. I gotta go with the thought that you're an angel Red, just sayin." Readjusting himself in his seat, glad to no longer be in pain, he continues on with the subject of the attack. "Well if you want to find the end game, I doubt that askin people here will actually do anything. End game isn't really a motive, it's what gives the motive. Perfect example if you'll follow along..." He motions and gives a slight nod towards a woman who sits herself across the room. "My end game for her would obviously be to bed her by night's end. But what would cause that? Could my motive be that I find her attractive, or "add a notch to the post" to put bluntly, or just straight up have some pleasant, mature fun just for the sake of it? Which ever motive you want to pick, the end game is the same. So what we should be wanting to know isn't why we were attacked today, but why would we want to be attacked today." Getting up out of his seat, he looks at Krissina. "You want somethin in repayment for making me feel good? Cause I don't feel like waitin around for your friends to come back around to get my drink on."

Lynnda rolls her eyes. "Men!"

Fortunately, it seemed as though the raucous merry-making had drowned out his clumsy attempt at information gathering and he sits back down, face aflame. He is in time for the last half of Kyrian's lesson, complete with example.

Halvor does a remarkable job keeping his composure, eyes widening only slightly as the smaller, more confident man casually explains himself to their two attractive companions. It takes him a few moments of heavy thinking before he relays the archer's intentions of fetching Krissina another drink, not anything more...intimate.

He chuckles at himself, then cocks his head at Lynnda's pronouncement. He didn't think he had done anything wrong...except be a man, he guesses. Halvor supposes that for some women, that might be enough.

Krissina's blush deepens at the direction Kyrian takes the conversation, which seems implausible given the already fiery red colour on her cheeks
"I'm not sure you're really the sort of person I should be associating with, with such a... casual attitude, and you can be assured I won't be another notch on your bedpost sir."

Cerin waves a passing barmaid over and asks, Excuse me, my dear, would you be so kind as to bring me some of the boar stew and bread? Thank you ever so much!"
Before she leaves he turns and asks his fellow heroes "Is anyone else hungry?"

With a cheery smile at Halvor, he stands up on his chair and calls for attention from the crowd.
"Excuse me! We are very grateful for the lovely hospitality all of you have shown us. It has been a pleasure to share our stories with you, and we would like to ask all of you now to favor us with your stories! What harrowing sights did you see, what was the most unusual thing that happened to you today. Come on, don't be shy!"

With an encouraging wave, he urges a man in the front who looks like he might have something to say forwards before sitting down to enjoy his meal.

"I am famished, actually. Thanks!" Halvor grins as his belly rumbles its agreement with his choice.

"Again, thank you, Cerinnibert," he says quietly as the gnome ropes in the crowd with ease, not abashed in the slightest. Halvor edges closer to Cerin, determined to at least help listen for clues and patterns from the patrons' tales.

Kyrian raises a brow at Krissina's reply in a look of bewilderment. "Well then, didn't realize that showing gratitude was automatically a proposition. Huh. Well suit yourself I suppose." He walks off to the bar and attempts to flag down whomever is working behind the counter.

"I'm sorry! I just thought... never-mind, it appears I have misunderstood you, please accept my apologies." Krissina holds out a hand to Kyrian in a reconciliatory gesture.

"Kyrian, I think you need a more subtle approach."

Now back on Lynnda's shoulder, Shadow looks at the young archer with narrowed amber eyes and shakes her head, swishing her tail in long arcs. If the cat were a person, she would almost seem be expressing disapproval.

Sorry for being unclear on that one, he would've been walking away as he said that, if that effects Krissina's attempt to reach for him in apology.