Halvor will keep his eyes forward on the steady stream of townsfolk Cerin has summoned, not wanting to add to the awkwardness of the situation by adding his stare into the mix. He meets Lynnda's eyes for a moment and offers a timid smile before trying to focus on the task at hand.
Lynnda shrugs her shoulders (slightly disturbing Shadow, who shoots her a disapproving glare). "I think our young friend has a bit of learning to do. Should only take a few drinks thrown in his face."
The example was rather crude, but in the end the man had only been offering to get a drink for the redhead. Halvor is wary of stating this fact, already becoming wise to the ways of the world. Specifically, that he would not win an argument with a woman.
He shrugs noncommittally to her statement, not meeting her eyes for fear of becoming prey.
As suppertime drags on into the early evening, the crowd at the Rusty Dragon reaches its peak. The common room is packed with patrons and servers. Your bands’ tales of heroism has enthralled the listeners and a large group congregates about your table. In the background, Ameiko plays an enchanting melody on her string instrument. As you engage the townsfolk you fail to discern a clear picture of the Goblin attack. It seems that the attack on the town square was but one of apparently dozens of locations around town that was hit by the raiders. Indeed, one cannot swing a mug without bashing into someone who is all too willing to share their story of glory during the attack. You realize that many of these stories simply cannot be true as, taken literally, there would had to have been hundreds of Goblins swarming the town. It’s evident that many people are simply getting carried away with themselves and with the atmosphere.
Soon it’s time to head to the garrison and meet with the Sheriff. You sort yourselves out and proceed there quickly. Cerin stumbles only slightly as the ale, mead and wine seems to have taken its toll on the man.
The garrison is one of the largest structures in Sandpoint. This modest stone fortress serves as both the local militia barracks and jail. At the front door you are greeted by a young militiaman who readily passes you inside. Once you are admitted to the main hall you can see much activity within. Numerous men and women are preparing arms and donning armor here. It appears that the Sheriff has prudently called up the reserves and the town of Sandpoint is gearing itself up for further trouble. You estimate that there are no fewer than two dozen militia being readied here and perhaps that number again manning posts or out on patrol throughout the town. The quality and expertise of these guardsmen however, leaves much to be desired. There are not many trained soldiers among them.
Presently, a huge, bare chested brute of a man walks over to your group and engages with you. His torso and face are crossed with terrible red scars.
"Halvor! I knew you’d be back boy. You couldn’t hack it in the guard before, what makes you think you’ve got what it takes to defend Sandpoint now. Oh wait…I’m sorry…I heard you were some kind of hero today. Hmmfff, what kind of hero needs help from a blind archer, two tavern wenches and a stunty to dispatch some measly green skins? Hur hur hur…"
He motions to the group as he mocks you. He adopts an aggressive pose and flexes his glistening pelvic muscles.
Halvor walks near Cerin as they proceed, keeping an eye out for the gnome to make sure he doesn't take a tumble. Surprisingly, his services were not needed for the entire trip. The man could hold his wine! Unpleasant memories come back to him as he gains entrance to the Garrison.
Those memories keep flowing as Vachedi steps towards them with his taunts. Some of the reason Halvor had left the guard in the first place was men like this, who took pleasure in the unpleasant aspects of their work. Halvor glares for a moment, then proceeds to start walking past the man, eyes forward. Exchanging words with the man will only give the bully what he wanted.
Walking with the group as the time to meet at the garrison had approached, Kyrian started to feel a little disturbed about Lynnda's feline companion. "I don't know if this is the ale making me paranoid, or if I actually am paranoid, but that cat seems to have it out for me..." he thinks as he notices more often than not the glares the animal shoots at him from time to time. "So hey, uh, Lynnda... I'm kinda curious, but what's up with the..." he begins to say before the man approaches them, speaks and then begins to mock them. He motions his head around as if he was searching before he fires off a retort. "Quite frankly sir, but I believe you would be the one who is blind considering I don't see these supposed tavern wenches you're talking about." "Blind archer my bottom glass up, I'd shoot the pebble off your big head..." he thinks to himself.
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Although he had gotten quite a bit drunk at the Dragon, the healthy meal and the stroll in the cool night air helped to clear Cerin's head enough that he was starting to calm down somewhat.
Still, he disliked bullies and the large man in front of him definitely needed to be taken down a peg, so instead of just letting his words pass he felt the need to take revenge in his own style.
"Halvor, why don't you introduce us to your hebetudinous acquaintance?" he said with a friendly grin as he reaches out to greet him. "I am sure his hircismus was a deciding factor in the outcome of the battle, the man is positively caprylic! Such a rodomontade needs to be recognized by all as a true coccydynia!" He states with effusive enthusiasm as he vigorously shakes his hand.
I always love insulting someone to their face and having them be completely oblivious. If you're lucky, some of these buffoons actually thank you for making fun of them!
"Lets just be on our way okay, we don't want to contribute to the towns troubles." Krissina speaks quietly to the others.
After Cerin's obfuscative insults, Lynnda smiles darkly at the jailer. With an arcane word and a gesture, ghostly orange flames appear to flicker from her upturned palm. "My friend, one should know better than to insult a witch and her friends." With another gesture, the flames wink out.
Perched on Lynnda's shoulder, Shadow narrows her eyes at the jailer and folds back her ears. "Hsssss!"
Hearing Kyrian's words, he sighs, stopping and turning back. He had hoped to avoid a confrontation, but that was no longer a possibility. Cerin's word had him wrinkling his brow in confusion. Well, if he couldn't understand half of what the gnome was saying, he knew the jailer understood none of it.
He agrees with Krissina, had even been intent on doing just as the barmaid said, but the others had taken the insults harshly and looked to respond in kind. Lastly, he looks at his dark-haired female companion and her fiery show. Maybe it was another excuse to get a look at her, as well. Hmmmm, that might work, he supposed, but is doubtful. Still, he cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders, loosening up. He expects this to turn ugly.
After her little magic show, Lynnda's expression remains stern. "Sheriff Hemlock asked to see us. Would you be so kind as to let him know we're here."
A little show to warn, then she had offered the man a way out without losing face. She was more than just a hothead. His respect for the sorceress increased with those couple statements.
Lynnda pauses to see the reaction of the jailer.
Halvor turns and walks up to the brutish man. The two physically imposing men square off against one another face to face. Neither one looks willing to back down and a confrontation seem imminent. Just then Sheriff Hemlocks' commanding voice echos out from the far end of the hall.
”VACHEDI! These people are here under my authority. Back away, NOW!
Vachedi doesn’t turn to acknowledge the order and maintains his glare on Halvor. But slowly the man backs away. And, with a final glance, Vachedi stomps off and slams the sturdy wooden door as he leaves the hall.
”I know it may be hard to believe it now, but in the thick of battle Vachedi is a fine human being and a strong ally. He just needs someone to swing a battle axe at him all day. Please follow me…
The Sheriff motions for you to follow and he proceeds towards a back room...
"I'd swing an axe at that jackass..." mutters Lynnda under her breath, as she follows the sheriff.
Lynnda tries to hold onto her anger at Vachedi in an effort not to appear nervous.
I can't believe I just voluntarily walked into a sheriff's office. Something like this was probably the last 'normal' place Mom and Dad saw before the dungeons. At least Kaven was exiled.
Halvor's eyes follow the man as he exits, disgust on his features. He despised bullies, especially those who used the weight of the law to intimidate. He files into the appointed room, head down, brooding.
Kyrian follows the sheriff into the building as he looks at the man who insulted them all. Passing by him, he gives off a slight smirk as if he were to say "That's a good boy, now stay."
Halvor lets a small smile creep onto his face at Cerin's optimism. The gnome never let anything faze him. He settles into a corner, listening to the Sheriff.
Krissina realises that she was holding her breath as Vachedi confronted them and lets it out slowly.
Cerin's comment raises a smile out of her though, clearly the gnome (?) was unfazed.
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As they wait for the Sheriff to finish looking through his papers and start, Cerin turns to Krissina.
"My lady, I have been meaning to ask, when you prepared the hangover remedy this morning for our friend Kyrian did you happen to substitute for any of the ingredients? I do not wish to cast any aspersions upon your ability, I merely recognize that things were quite chaotic and you might have had trouble finding everything. He has stated that the result was less than pleasing, but I have never known that particular concoction to fail! I can only think that if you did not use the cranewood root, it would have had a very different effect than what was intended."
After taking a seat as the sheriff gathers his papers, Lynnda asks, "So, Sheriff Hemlock, how can we be of service to your town?"
This just might be the first time I've made an open-ended offer like this when I'm not playing an angle... I wonder where this is leading?
Shadow hops from Lynnda's shoulder into her lap. The cat's unblinking golden eyes stare at the sheriff, and she cocks her head slightly to one side as if sizing him up.
Quietly speaking with Cerinnibert "I may have done, the kitchen was in chaos this morning, and I figured most hangover cures worked because they tasted bad and people expected them to." she smiles warmly at the little man.
She than looks back around to see what Hemlock is saying.
Within the chamber you see a simple room with Spartan furnishings. A large, sturdy table dominates the room. On the table there is a large parchment which features a map of Sandpoint and the surrounding countryside. The map is held firmly on the table with numerous large candles. There is a modest shelf against one wall which contains several books and parchments. Placed around the perimeter of the table sit several crude chairs. There are already several people waiting within the room engaged in conversation. You recognize some of the town guard and Father Zantus. Shortly after entering the room the sheriff gives a curt nod to a soldier nearby. The soldier gives an acknowledging nod back and rushes away.
”Please be seated.”
The Sheriff motions to the empty chairs around the table.
A short while later Mayor Deverin enters the room. She addresses everyone:
”Gentlemen & ladies. Let’s keep started straight away. Sheriff…"
”Here’s what we know. We have been attacked by a force of around 30 Goblins. They infiltrated the town and hit several areas at once. The main attack was concentrated on the town square. We suffered lightly at their hands. There was one death and numerous minor injuries inflicted. The damage caused to the town was negligible.”
The Mayor has a troubled look on her face.
”Who died?
The Sheriff grimly responds.
”Gorli the farmer’s son, Tark.”
”That’s going to hit him hard. He lost his wife to Chopper’s rampage years ago. Now he’s all alone.”
She looks pleadingly at Father Zantus as she speaks. The High Priest responds:
”Tragic. I’ll pay him a special visit once we’re done here.”
Mayor Deverin seems genuinely relieved.
”Thank you father. Please continue Sheriff.”
”Now, we’ve had minor troubles with the green skins in the past but this attack is different. More brazen and more organized. How did they get so far into the town? Also, I can’t be certain but I suspect that there are at least three of the local Goblin tribes involved in this attack. Co-operation among these little bastards is rare. They spend as much time fighting one another as they do outsiders. Someone is uniting the tribes and leading them! Also, I believe the main attack on the town square was a diversion. There seemed to be no purpose to their attack. They simply ran around and caused havoc. I don’t know what the purpose of the diversion was but we must find out. Lastly, we did capture three of the attackers. We didn’t get much information out of them. I don’t think they know very much to begin with. They claim that they just followed everyone else into the attack. But most disturbing is that they said that a Longshanks is their leader!”
You recognize that Longshanks is a derogatory term for Human, Half-Elf or Elf.
The Mayor pauses a moment to take everything in. Then she turns to you and asks..
”Do you have anything to add?”
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Cerin brings out the dogslicer and reaches up to place it on the table.
"The goblin chieftain was using this. As you see, it's of much finer quality than most goblins would carry, and if you look here," he points to the blade, "you will see that it bears the maker's mark of a goblin tribe!"
He pauses to let his words sink in, believing that the Sheriff (and hopefully the Mayor) would realize what this meant.
"I was hoping that Shaelu would be here to identify it, as I am not too familiar with the tribes in this area. I agree that this seems like a diversion. Did anything else happen, anything stolen or destroyed, no matter how insignificant?"
Halvor listens to Cerin's comments and question, nodding in agreement. After waiting for an appropriate reply he adds, "Were the gates manned, Sheriff? How did the goblins even get in?" He tries to ask gently, not trying to imply that the guards were lax or inattentive.
"I'm not much of an expert on goblins. Sure, I've tangled with a couple of raiding parties on the Lost Coast Road once or twice, but a display of magic usually scares them off. I've never heard of goblins attacking a town before." She pauses, letting the sheriff's words sink in. "So the little creeps say that their leader is a person? What kind of person would ally with those murderous little pyromaniacs?"
Raising a brow at the information that was just announced, Kyrian starts to wonder while his companions begin to speak. Motioning to Cerin quickly before addressing the mayor, he begins to speak. "Okay, you got me, you were right about this. Okay, so if there's someone leading these crazed little freaks, I've got one question and one question only. What is here that is worth attacking? Not trying to say that your town isn't worth anything, I'm just curious as to why someone would want to attack you. Is there some past incident that this town that occurred and is now coming back to haunt you or is this some personal feud that just completely escalated? There's got to be some sort of logical reason for this attack, and I believe that if you want our opinions, then we need to know what attacking this town for would end up in resulting on a larger scale."
There is a pause as Sheriff Hemlock picks up the Goblin weapon and examines it. He furrows his brow as he looks closely at the inscription.
”The Gnome has the truth of it. Though still of crude design, this is fine workmanship for a Goblin weapon. And this symbol here is probably the mark of a Goblin tribe – though I know not which one. I’ve sent word for Shalelu. Nobody knows more about the local Goblin tribes than her. When she arrives I know she’ll be able to shed some light on these affairs. As far as anything of significance being stolen or destroyed during the attack, there is nothing that sticks out at the moment – though we are still assessing the damage. They stole no treasure, livestock or food stores. They carted away no captive’s to take as slaves, but you’re quite right Kyrian, is it? There has to be a reason for this attack. There may be more developments in the coming days as we fully assess the damage to the town.”
Mayor Deverin steps in at this point and addresses you.
”We’ll, there you have it. We need to unravel this mystery. I would greatly appreciate it if you did not stray far from town as of yet. I have a mind to have the local Goblin tribes scouted out but as of right now the town is too vulnerable to further attack. If the Goblins did not get what they came for the first time then they may be back and in greater strength. I’m not sure our depleted guard can stand up to them. I think that for now we need to wait for word from Shalelu and conduct a thorough search of the town for further clues. All agreed?”
The remainder of the room agrees and the briefing appears ready to break up for the evening.
"Well, OK, I guess we'll see what we can do to help out around here."
Halvor nods in agreement with Lynnda. Where to start? The Cathedral was supposed to be consecrated today, so there was something. What would goblins care about such things? Or their longshank friends, for that matter? Master Quink's library might hold a few items of interest for a man who could turn such knowledge into power, but surely the sage would have noticed. The goblins would surely have wanted the steel weapons from the armory, but again, like Master Quink, the blacksmith would have noticed.
He shrugs. In his heart, he is a warrior, not a thinker. He'd let the others speak their opinions, then agree with the one that seemed most plausible.
Kyrian nods in agreement as well. "Well I suppose we can agree to that. If they do attack again, maybe we can get a better idea as to what they're up to. Hopefully we can also find out what they're after also, and if we can find that, well then... I suppose we'll just go from there. As for now, I'm going to go back to my room and get some well deserved rest if that's fine with everyone else." He gets up from the table and begins to walk out the door as he mumbles under his breath to himself "Awesome. Came here for one thing and got sucked into another. At least I can find out what I can to find that woman..."
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"Agreed! After a good rest, we can start fresh at first light. We can start taking a look around town for anything that seems unusual. Perhaps fresh eyes might catch something that those familiar with the town may have overlooked." Cerin gives the Sheriff a jaunty salute, the Mayor a courteous bow, and follows Kyrian back to the Dragon.
Mentally relieved that there would be no more action tonight (hopefully), Halvor follows the others back to the Rusty Dragon for a pre-dream drink.
Lynnda heads out with the others.
"Oh, I need to make a quick stop by Fathead's Feedbag. I had been staying in a tiny closet of a room above the barroom, but I have a pretty good idea that I'm not welcome there anymore. I'm going to try to grab whatever's left of my belongings that old Greasy Tenniwar hasn't stolen." She mutters under her breath, "And I really hope I don't cross paths with Uncle Jubryal..."
At Cerin's suggestion, Lynnda replies, "Thanks! I was thinking of sending Shadow in to see if the coast was clear and then trying to sneak in. But maybe we could just stroll in. I doubt Fathead would give me trouble if I showed up with some friends to help me move!" Raising an eye at Halvor, "Especially someone who can send a goblin head flying across the marketplace!" A smile broadens across her face, and she continues, "And if Fathead decides to make trouble, I have a trick up my sleeve that just might solve the problem, at least temporarily. Why, he might even carry things for me, if I asked him right! Of course, once the charm wore off, he'd hate me even more, but that ship has sailed."
The darkness hides most of the color rising in his face as he nods to Lynnda and Cerin. While the idea of basically being the equivalent of hired muscle is distasteful to him, the idea of a man treating a lady in a disrespectful manner is even more so.
"I'm sure I can carry anything you require. Let's leave Fathead to his poor fare and be done with it." Unable to tell if she is kidding or not, he decides to add this comment, just to be sure.
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Cerin strolls into the Feedbag ahead of Lynnda and Halvor and greets Fathead.
"Good day, Sir! My lovely friend wishes to pick up her belongings, I'm sure you have kept them safe and sound pending her return. If you could just have them brought out, we will trouble you no more! Thank you very much." he states in a firm tone with a commanding smile.
Halvor strolls into the Feedbag a few steps behind Cerin, hearing the tail end of the gnome's nicely worded demand. Playing his part, he folds his arms over his chest, standing just to Lynnda's left and a little behind. His gaze is stern as he awaits the man's decision.
Smiling at Halvor and Cerin, Lynnda strolls past them, with Shadow trotting a half-step in front of her. Spying her former boss at his usual table, she waves at him, calling, "Hi, Gressel! I've got a new gig now, so I'm moving out. Don't bother getting up, I can get my things myself." She walks across the barroom to the back stairs.
As soon as one enters The Fatman’s Feedbag one realizes that this is not the same breed of tavern as the Rusty Dragon. All sorts of shifty eyed men peer at you from gloomy lit tables. Numerous card games of the most dubious nature are ongoing and the men and women here are quick to relieve a stranger of their coin. Several sly women drift from table to provide companionship. Dominating the rear of the tavern, situated near the roaring fireplace sits an immense slug of a man who is engaged in consuming his dinner (stuffed pheasant). Several intimidating looking thugs flank his table. Drippings of juice and fat from his dinner run down his face as he talks while continuing to eat.
”Is that so Lynnda? You hear that lads? Lynnda here wants to leave us. Looks like you’ve found some new patrons eh? We’ll, I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with here. You don’t just walk out on Gressel Tenniwar!"
Several of the toughs get up from their seats and square off towards you. You become aware of numerous tavern patrons circling around behind you. None of them are heavily armed or armoured, but daggers and knives can be seen in abundance. No weapons have been drawn yet however.
"Cerinnibert, I wonder if a human head will fly as far as a goblin's?" Halvor pats the hilt at his waist for show. "Then again, I'm sure these fellows are wise enough to leave personal friends of the Sheriff and Mayor be."
As Halvor speaks up sevral of the thugs suddenly seem to wake up as if they we're in a trance. They begin to step back and show their open hands in a gesture of meekness. One of the toughs leans over to Gressel...
"It's them that fought off the Goblins today in the square!"
Gressel's eyes open wide with recognition. A number of his men have already vacated the tavern. The rest seem close to completely losing their resolve. He looks around desperately, trying to garner support. Eventually he moans...
"It was you in the square fighting today Lynnda? I knew you had the witching way about you. Take your things an go girl. But be warned, Jubryal will hear about this betrayal, and he's not as forgiving as I."
With that, Gressel continues his meal and most of the tavern patrons sit down and avoid eye contact.
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Cerin does his best to keep a straight face while Lynnda gets her possessions. As soon as they have left the seedy tavern, he lets out a loud guffaw.
"Did you see their faces? Oh, nicely done Halvor! That made my day!"
While they stroll back to the Dragon, he edges closer to Lynnda and remarks quietly, "If you ever feel like sharing anything about this Jubryal character, know that I have a pair of very receptive ears and a fairly wide variety of skills useful for solving problems. And I think I can presume to speak for Halvor as being willing to help as well."
He leaves it at that, sensing that this might be something that she has to decide to talk about in her own time.