Lady Cirthana treats Lunarinus kiss on her hand with the aloof distance that only a beautiful lady can. She nods at Kairon and Goruck, and says, Gentelmen, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. However, we must dispense with pleasantries and ceremony, for the situation here is dire, much more dire than when I sent summons to Almas for aid. She asks Lunarinus to show her his papers from Bishop Trenysyr, and after checking the seal of his signet ring, she rolls the parchment back up and returns it to him. She then begins to walk toward the altar, and gestures for all three men to follow her, talking as she walks. I appreciate your arrival gentleman. You look like capable servants of the gods. While I would love nothing more than to share a meal and conversation, there is no time for such things. Perhaps when this ailment has been purged, we can spend some time getting to know one another. For now, though, I must give you all the information you need, and send you immediately on your way.
With that Lady Cirthana delivers a narrative of how the current troubles started just under a month previous. At first only a few people were sick, and nothing was thought of it, but soon the number of ill people began to become worrisome, and that is when she sent for aid. Now, by Lady Cirthana's estimation, more people are sick than are well, and likely there are many who are sick but are not showing symptoms. It was determined, after some investigation by Gavel Thuldrin Kreed's Rangers that a particularly pernicious fungus, Blackscour, had begun to grow deep in the bowels of the town's only well: Brookman's well, located just outside of town. After some coercion Lady Cirthana in conjunction with Laurel Usessa, a local herbalist and healer, they were able to convince Kreed to post a notice and a guard to prevent people from using the well. That has come with the problem of creating scarce drinking water. The River Foam, being choked with particulates from all the lumber that floats on it, must have its water filtered through a cloth and then boiled before drinking, and Lady Cirthana's own power to create water has proved incapable of keeping up with the town's need, even if she cast her spells from dawn to dark.
So now the problem is indeed dire, for the disease initially caused by the Blackscour seems to be being spread from person to person with little to halt it. Those that are ill require fresh water to keep them from worsening symptoms by dehydration, but Gavel Kreed seems either unable or unwilling to do anything about clearing the well, or providing men to work at filtering and boiling the river's water. All this has meant death, more than a dozen citizens so far, mostly the elderly, or those that were infirm already, but death will spread, of that Cirthana is certain.
One note of brightness amidst the gloom is that Laurel seems to remember there being a reference to Blackscour in her mother's journal, a book full of remedies and herbal uses, some magical, and some mundane. Her problem is two-fold: the first being time, she's had very little since the disease began spreading so rapidly; and secondarily many of the entries in her mother's book are written in scripts and languages she does not understand. She's guessed that the book was not only her mother's but perhaps her grandmothers, or some other local that has lived the life of a healer. Regardless, she neither has the time nor knowledge to search the book for a possible cure.
Therefore lady Cirthana's instructions are as follows. First, go to Gavel Thuldrin Kreed's mansion, she says Bishop Trenysyr's papers of passage should be good enough to get past his guards at the high market gate.
His consent to move about town unhindered, and, should needs be, to enter into the forest in search of ingredients, is necessary. If Thuldrin Kreed does not give his consent for your outings, we are already ruined. The Lady Cirthana says, and when she does so her eyes fall in such a way as to pull at your heartstrings, and make you desire, very strongly to aid her.
Secondly, once you have the Gavel's permissions, you should go to Laurel's shop, Roots and Remedies. Tell her I sent you, and that you are our promise of aid from Almas. Get her book, and see if indeed there is a cure to be found. I have prayed that Iomedae will lead you to the knowledge you seek. I know she will answer my prayers. Seemingly on cue, the group has arrived at Iomedae's altar, and the sunlight glints down from one circular stained glass window whose design is the sun in an azure setting. Bright rays fall upon the altar and glint off of the miniature sword and sun that rests there.
I appreciate your aid gentlemen, as quickly as possible. Kimi Eaveswalker, the girl that brought you here, can show you around town, should that be necessary. If you need me, I will be here, or at my private residence down the street. For now, I bid you welcome to Falcon's Hollow, good luck, and gods' speed. It is apparent as Lady Cirthana finishes her long speech, that she is done with you, and you have her permission to go post haste.
Laurel's patron, who stepped out of line to confront the newest halfling in town, stares at him for a bit, hopping from foot to foot, and finally says, Ugh. Off with you then, there's a tree right there could use some watering. He points at a small stand of locust trees just to the south and west in the grass behind the buildings. Not wanting to lose his place in line he abruptly turns around and heads back from whence he came.
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After investigating the back of the building for any holes that would allow him to see inside, and coming up empty I wonder if that general store I saw sells drills... As he re-enters the street on the south side of the building (noting the door, and the fact that the area is too exposed) with a relieved look on his face, he catches the eye of the commoner who spotted him and nods embarrassedly, as if to say "please don't mention this to anyone." Then, he turns around and walks in the direction of the low market.
Glancing around for Irori's holy symbol, Goruck asks Scipio, "Would you begrudge me a quick prayer?"
Kairon abruptly turns away from Lady Cirthana and his own companions, making a beeline to the shrine of Sarenrae in the alcove. He lays aside his gear and takes a knee before the winged ankh, eyes closed and head bowed.
He stands, and shoulders his burdens once again, his demeanor grim. Paying no attention to anyone else, eyes downcast, he makes for the door, giving no indication of stopping.
Lunarinus tells Goruck:
Although we must make our way out to help the city, I would stop anyone from taking a moment out of business to commune with their deity. Go ahead, friend. Kairon and I would do well to take a moment to commune with Sarenrae. We can spare these few moments.
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With a quietness unbecoming of someone his size, Goruck knelled before the alter of Irori. Removing his mask as well as his blade, the half orc gazed towards the sky. His face, absent of any facial hair, was heavily marked with black ink that ran down his face to pool in the tusks protruding from his jaw, and moved in odd sinuous patterns along with his few scars as he prayed.
"May my mind be sharp enough to split lies, and my blade true to its purpose. May my efforts produce growth, and show me the road I must walk to find myself. I ask not for aid, but for guidance in my endeavors. Let us help these people, so that we may help ourselves."
Putting his stone mask back on first, the bladesman rose with sheathed sword in hand. The half orc followed the cleric out of the chapel.
When Kairon finishes his prayer, Lunarinus moves to replace him in the threshold of the alcove that contains Sarenrae's ankh. He removes no gear, and takes to one knee. His prayer is whispered, private, between himself and Sarenrae. When he stands he turns to his companions. Thus renewed, let us enter the field. I think, as the lady suggests, we must entreat Gavel Kreed for his blessing upon our endeavors. Let us head there first. And so he heads directly for the large double doors of the church, and out into the street. Seeing Kimi waiting, he says, Miss Eaveswalker, if you would be so kind as to lead us to Thuldrin's manse, I would be most appreciative.
Kimi hops up from her resting spot on the porch of the church and brushes the dust off of herself. Okay, follow me. She says and smiles. Kimi leads the envoy back the way they came, passing the same Valers going about their daily routines. This time the envoy must pass through the low market, and in so doing, can't help but notice that much of the produce and meat are edible, but just barely. Patrons and merchants of the market give the envoy a few furtive glances, and rumbles of gossip flow among the crowd. After leaving the market, as Kimi is about to lead the group up the short hill to the twenty foot wooden palisade wall, they are stopped by a grizzled looking, and well armed half-elf of middle years. He greets the envoy, introducing himself as Deldrin Baleson, sheriff of Falcon's Hollow.
I'm at your service, good sirs. He says. Don't hesitate to call on me should you need me. I have a dozen deputies at my disposal, and, he leans in at this point looking to his right at the building there, which sits with doors wide open, and has the sign Tribunal above it in burned wood. I don't necessarily keep with everything our good Gavel says, either. At that he lays a finger across his nose, in some sort of colloquial sign of unknown meaning. Then promptly walks off.
As the envoy continues up the hill Kimi pipes up. Deldrin and my dad were part of a force of Rangers that fought in the war for independence. She says with some pride, but then clams up.
As the envoy reaches the gate of the palisade they are stopped by two men in chainmail hauberks with halberds gripped in gauntleted fists. Kimi introduces the group, and after checking Biship Trenysyr's papers of passage, you are gruffly waved through.
It is apparent as soon as you pass through the palisade that this area of town is for its most important members. The buildings are well-built, sturdy, stained and whitewashed in pristine manner, with slate tile or cedar shake roofs. Continuing into the heart of the hill district shows two huge buildings, and one three-story tower each with their own protective walls. It also reveals the town's high market, which undoubtedly uses high to mean both on a hill, and also of greater value. The merchant stalls here are well built, with canvas tops, and the produce and meat of excellent quality, fresh from the fields and farms. Where the low market rumbled as the envoy passed, the high market seems to stop altogether. Being sparsely attended, the entire market turns to look at the envoy, and some merchants turn a questioning glance at each other.
Kimi breaks the increased tension by, again, piping up. It's late enough, I think, she says, that mister Kreed will be in the Consortium's headquarter building, instead of his house. He usually takes a late breakfast, but with but an hour or so till midday, I'd say that's where we should check first. Not waiting for an answer she leads the men north through the market to a large L-shaped building with a tall conical roof over the main structure. The roof of the building is slate tile, and the walls are cut and mortared stone, just like that of the church. The irony is not lost on the envoy that the Lumber Consortium headquarters is not made out of wood.
Another set of guards is at the gate of the huge structure, these with breastplates, swords and shields. Their breastplates are marked with the seal of the Consortium, an axe and a broken circle. These guards are slightly less inclined, even after looking at Lunarinus' papers of passage from Bishop Trenysyr, to let the group in, but Kimi speaks on their behalf, and they finally wave the envoy through. As the envoy enters the grounds of the Consortium headquarters, Kimi waves goodbye, smiles broadly and says, I'll be down at Jak's if you need me. Good luck in there!
The stone floor of the foyer of the Consortium's headquarters is draped in a massive bearskin rug, the head of the dead animal looks to be at least five hands in width, with teeth like daggers. An imposing welcome mat, to say the least. The envoy from Almas is once again stopped by two guards, dressed just the same as those at the outer wall. Checking Lunarinus' papers again, they wave them into the huge circular room to the north. Bright natural sunlight fills the room from a ring of glass that circles the entire conical ceiling of the room. In the center of the room sits a large oak table, on which sits a map of the wood.
Surveying the room shows a tall thin man dressed in fine clothes with only a hatchet at his side, flanked by Payden Teedum, and two of the sellswords that he appeared with earlier at Jak's inn. Against the back wall, somewhat in shadow, is Dolok Pickering, the fiery-haired man that made the envoy's acquaintance earlier as well. He is not bound, but it appears as though he is some kind of prisoner nonetheless, or perhaps is just awaiting permission to leave? As soon as you step into the circle of light, the tall thin man addresses you promptly.
Good morrow friends. I am Gavel Thuldrin Kreed, acting mayor, and leader of Falcon's Hollow. He says with seemingly over-enthusiastic friendliness. Dolok here was just informing me of your arrival, and your offer of aid for our recently afflicted city. I bid you welcome. How can the Lumber Consortium be of help to you?
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Illiam arrives back at the low market about the same time as the envoy, and if he notices them he will try to inconspicuously listen-in on everything up through the conversation with Deldrin while pretending to be looking at nearby wares in the market.
Either way, he will then proceed to the Goose 'n Gander.
Having noticed the difference in quality of the wares between the low and high markets, and with a reserved Dolok isolated in the back of the room, Kairon determines to take the measure of the man before them, if he can. Mister Kreed. Kairon Daaltin. Gesturing to his companions in turn, Lunarinus Scipio. Goruck of the Stone.
With the tiniest pause, Kairon states the business. Lady Cirthana said we'd need yer "permissions" to be able to succeed in our mission. We'll need ta be able to move about town freely, . . . and he cuts his eyes to Teedum, quickly, . . . and very likely to go into the woods. We're here to eliminate this . . . "Blackscour", and help the folk here.
Do you know who all has the Blackscour? Is there a hospital, or an infirmary here?
Here Kairon switches gears, somewhat abruptly. Surprise to see young Dolok. Seems he's not the best of friends with your man, here -- Teedum. Good to see ya again, feller! Kairon sends a raised-hand gesture Dolok's way.
Anyhow, if we can get these "permissions" right quick, we'll be about seeing how we can help the people.
Thuldrin takes a moment or two before answering, looking from Dolok to his right hand man, Payden, and then back at the envoy. Lady Cirthana understands Falcon's Hollow very well. He says, and then begins to walk around the room, talking, seemingly to everyone and no one. His eyes turn to the envoy occasionally, but otherwise he seems intent on looking a the map.
Blackscour is both the name of the fungus and the disease it causes. The gods only know what caused it to turn up in our town's only well, but I have not, as yet, had the men or materials to spare in destroying and rebuilding the well. Which is what both Laurel and Cirthana have decided is necessary to clear the taint. The Consortium has a quota of lumber it must meet each month or forfeit profits. He says, as if explaining why fresh drinking water weren't a top priority is just that easy. As for an infirmary, the Valers are hardy folk, and they tend to keep to their own, in sickness and in health. Some have turned to Laurel for folk remedies and old witch's brews. He chuckles at that. I wondered, then, as I do now, if Laurel might have something to do with it all, seeing as she remains perfectly healthy, and her business has near quintupled in the past month. When he says those words he looks directly in Kairon's eyes. I'm guessing she'll also find a way to profit from the cure. You'll need her aid as well, no doubt, but I wouldn't trust her. Thuldrin pauses a moment and leans down to inspect his massive map, brushing some dust off an area of trees. As for my "permissions" they are granted. I'm starting to lose otherwise healthy and hale Jacks to this bloody ailment, and that is making meeting our quotas harder and harder. Not to mention it was just brought to my attention this morning that our only blacksmith in town, Master Figueroa, has begun to show symptoms. I need sharp blades on my men's axes and saws, and a sick blacksmith won't be doing our business any good. When Kreed mentions Figueroa he looks directly at Dolok, and smiles a rather wicked-seeming grin.
As to entering the woods. Should that become necessary for whatever reason, I'd ask only that you check with my cutyard boss Jarlben Trookshavits at our main camp at the wood's edge before entering. Sometimes people's forays into the woods have lead to he pauses for a moment considering the best word, unfortunate circumstances.
Thuldrin takes a step toward the envoy then, seeming, finally, to be examining them for their character. I would ask one favor, and offer a bit of advice. Take Dolok here with you. With his master ill, he will most likely want very desperately to help find a cure. That and seek the aid of Baradim and Chillel, two Valers with some experience in the woods. I believe their aid could be invaluable in ridding us of this wretched illness. He nods after looking scrutinously at each member of the envoy, then returns to his position at the table, placing both hands on the edge of the table and leaning over to stare at the map. After a moment, seeing that you are still there, he looks up at Dolok, but speaks loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the building.
Still here? Was there something else?
The possible implications of that grin not entirely lost on Kairon, he asks: "Unfortunate circumstances"?? Perhaps a little more information on that point would help us avoid 'em -- don't wanna get in the way of business, and don't want to be hung up in anything unnecessary . . . ."
At the mention that Master Figueroa has begun to show symptoms Dolok straightens up & looks very concerned & when Kreed grins evilly at him then he will get get very mad & start to charge forward but stop himself and let loose a fire ray straight down to the floor!
Kreed, you insolent dog! If anything happens to Master Figueroa because of your lazy, greedy arse I kill you!
Taken aback by the outburst, Kairon mutters, Well, might be why they're not friends . . . .
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Illiam steps through the doors of the Goose 'n Gander to find a labyrinth of winding aisles and precariously balanced shelves, with no obvious system of organization. Items that look surprisingly rare and valuable for the wares of a general store are balanced atop bags of rice and beans or in a pile of glass vials stacked below a pickaxe that looks poised to fall over.
Illiam walks half way down one aisle where he sees, in order, a bowl full of spotted eggs, a hooded lantern, a book of word puzzles, an exquisite-looking violin, a small turtle in a wrought iron bird cage, a walking stick with the top carved into the shape of an owl, a fine grey cloak hanging from the top of a shelf (with half-concealed writing supplies behind it), a ship in a bottle, a spyglass made of brass, and a large burlap sack marked "Apples" with lemons spilling out of the top.
He decides that he's not going to find anything this way, and walks back to the counter to talk to the proprietor.
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Illiam walks up to the counter. Seeing a bell over the edge, he jumps a couple of times before he's able to reach it. At the sound of the bell, he hears a rustling from behind the counter, then the sound of small feet climbing up three stairs. Illiam steps back from the counter to see a man with wild hair and large, colorful eyes looking over the counter. Spotting Illiam, the gnome says Oh, hello! Wait there. Illiam hears the sound of stairs again as the gnome drops out of view before reappearing around the end of the counter and walking up to Illiam. Sorry about the counter. I don't get customers of our height very... well, ever. The magistrate has people to do that for him, and there are no other gnomes or halflings around. Even the stoutfolk are all full foot taller. Reaching out his hand to shake You must be new in town. I'm Brickasnurd Hildrinsocks, proprietor of this fine establishment. Do you need help finding anything?
Illiam Illiam says, returning the handshake. Yeah, I need some supplies. Do you have any trail rations? Oh, or maybe Wandermeal? I need some provisions for a trip. He then adds, as if it's an afterthought Oh, and a drill, if you have one.
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Hmmm, Brickasnurd muses, No drills here. You would probably have to check with Master Figueroa for something like that. He might be a bit backed-up though. I saw Teedum and his jacks dragging-off that redheaded apprentice of his a short while ago, so he might be on his own for a while.
Trail rations though, you've come to the right place for that. Brickasnurd continues, moving to a nearby shelf and moving a tray full of small figurines and game pieces out of the way, I've got Wandermeal, and a variety of dried goods that would do, but are you leaving town so soon? You must have just arrived. Were you on the boat that came in this morning?
Nah, not by sea. Illiam lies, hoping the gnome will ask about some other way he could have arrived, to give him a plausible lie to tell the next person who asks. Might ship out soon though, but first, I want to make sure I won't be carrying the affliction that's been going around. Do you know much about it? While he converses with the gnome, Illiam selects a few portions of Wandermeal, sweetened dried fruit, aged sausage, hard sharp cheese, honey cakes, and other non-perishable items that will keep him well-fed when he's ready to catch another boat away from this place. Too bad those cinnamon pancakes wouldn't last. I should at least stay until tomorrow, so I can fill up on those in the morning. That is, if I can make sure that this plague won't kill me after I leave. Illiam has to resist the urge to pocket the goods, knowing that with the way things have been going for him today, he'd likely get caught, and the price of these goods isn't worth the risk.
Lunarinus stands patiently as his cleric friend entreats the Gavel for his permissions, walking closely enough to look at the map. Nothing in the conversation surprises him all that much, except the note of Laurel's increased business and its possible indication of her guilt. When Dolok fires off, both literally and figuratively, his hand goes to the haft of his hammer, for just the barest of moments, but then relaxes, hands going back to his sides. After Kairon asks about other people's adventures in the woods, he adds his echo. We'll certainly check with your cutyard boss, Jarlben is it? I would think, though, that your permissions would also come with at least some promise of aid. As you say, Jacks laid up or killed by a disease aren't cutting trees. The sooner we get this affliction cured, the sooner your profit margin increases.
And wouldn't we need a letter or sumthin' from you? Just in case someone asks?
Brickasnurd gives Illiam a queer look when he says he didn't come in on the large galley that appeared this morning. You didn't come in on the boat? But you did arrive recently. Are you a farmhand? The only other travelers recently have been from the outlying farms bringing in their produce. He shuffles the figurines and game pieces around a bit as he drags down some sacks of dried food and cured meats. Blackscour, that's the name of the sickness. Named such cause it's caused by a disgusting mushroom of the same name. It started growing in the depths of Brookman's well, and spread like a brushfire in just a few short weeks. I thank the gods I haven't gotten it myself. I wonder if it's cause I'm a gnome? He says as he begins to sort through the various rations, placing some items on the counter and others on the shelf. As he does so a small thin wand of wood falls off the shelf to the floor. He quickly picks it up, placing it on a nearby barrel with other odd trinkets on top. So that's where that went. He says, and then waves a hand over the various foodstuffs he's laid out upon the counter. Well, here ya be. Best traveling food this side of the Five Kings. You pick out what you want, and I'll tally up the bill. Sorry to see you go, though, we don't get too many smallfolk around, it'd be nice to share a drink with you, and maybe swap some adventure stories. I've got a few of me own. He says with a twinkle in his eye, and a smile curling his lips. The woods aren't all bad, n'matter what folks 'round here say.
Payden lunges at Dolok, and his regulars draw swords, when he fires off his mouth and his magic, but Kreed calls them back. Stop! He says, perhaps to Teedum, perhaps to Dolok, perhaps to both. He then stands straight up, taking his hands off the map, and chuckles just a bit. That's good Dolok. It's just that kind of fire we'll need to help the illustrious envoy from Sarenrae's church in Almas get rid of this disease. When Thuldrin says the word illustrious it positively reeks of sarcasm. Just remember, the sooner you find a cure, the sooner you can go back to helping a healthy Master Figueroa mend and sharpen blades. Kreed then turns around and faces the envoy, reaching in his pocket he pulls out a thick papyrus scroll, stepping towards the envoy he hands the document to Kairon. Here's your document. Look it over. It's got the Consortium seal, and my signature. With it you'll be able to move freely throughout the town, and any Consortium employees will help you to the best of their ability, except where it puts them in danger. Looking over the document proves it to be a true writ of passage and aid, indeed, with a wax seal of the axe and broken circle of the Lumber Consortium, and signature line that reads: "by order of Gavel Thuldrin Kreed." Having already had such a writ in his pocket, it seems as though Kreed knew such a document would be needed, but was waiting to be asked for it before he would actually produce it.
Kreed turns his tall narrow frame back to looking at the map, and pauses for a longer moment than seems appropriate. Now, as to your questions about forays into the woods. The woods are old, ancient by any civilization's records. There are dangers and foul things that cannot be planned for, and sometimes it seems that the woods rebel against our presence. Any foray into the woods by humans has the potential to cause... He pauses again. a reaction, by those within that are not happy about our work. He brushes another gathering of dust off of a part of the map. You have my permission to enter the woods, yes, but I am not responsible, nor will my men be, for any retaliation the woods sees fit to bring for your intrusion. If you meet a foe you cannot defeat, don't expect to find quarter among my lumberjacks. If you bring a monster into one of my cutyards, my men will keep themselves safe, if that means sacrificing you to the woods' anger? He turns around again, and levels a stare right at the three members of the envoy, each in turn. So be it.
If that is all gentlemen? I'd ask you to respect my time. Take Dolok, and go. As you say, He looks directly at Lunarinus. My profit margins aren't getting any bigger as you stand around.
C'mon, gents. Got what we need, at least.
Kairon turns straightaway for the door, and leads the entourage out to the market area on the hill.
Well, more unpleasant stuff. What's more rotten? The disease killin' folks 'round here, or the greed that excuses it? Here to help, and we get insults. I've a mind ta . . . .
Kairon quiets, and closes his eyes, taking a series of deep breaths.
Dolok, d'ya wanna check in on your master? We can walk with, just to keep it "official"; gotta be quick, though, 'cause I'd rather be down the hill on the double -- something wrong with the air up here. Kairon jerks his head toward Kreed's manse.
Turning to Lunarinus and Goruck: That boat ride did me no favors, fellers. I need to armor up and get at least an hour in prayer before I'll be set to do the most help. At Lunarinus' expression of askance, Yeah, yeah, I know -- dawn. But you weren't seasick the whole way up here, were ya?
Once the party is outside & at a seemingly safe distance from the manor or any of its goons (Dolok refuses to refer to them as guards.) He will most vehemently explain to them that he did NOT inform on them to Kreed!
Yes, thank you! I would like to check in on Master Figueroa very briefly if I may? I'd appreciate the company as well. I shall introduce you all to a very good man by anyone's standards - well, except for some rotten apples like that Kreed fellow. As he spits on the ground clearly in disgust of Kreed.
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Illiam ignores Brickasnurd's comment about farmhands for now, not wanting to be caught in a lie, but notes the information for later. Instead, he plays-up his interest in the idea that the gnome might be immune to Blackscour. You think you might be immune? That would be a stroke of luck! Hey, you haven't heard anything about this halfling magistrate being free of it as well, have you? We halflings could be immune too! As he's saying this, Illiam selects 8 portions of Wandermeal, along with a day's worth of halfling comfort foods to stave-off the monotony, wishing those foods were a bit less expensive.
Illiam also takes note of the gnome's casual handling of the wand. He doesn't know what kind of wand it is, but he knows that they sell for more money than he's ever seen in one place. This is a real magic item, and Brickasnurd seems to have hardly noticed that it was missing. This strange gnome is more than he seems. Maybe I have something to learn from him. If nothing else, I'm sure this place has some valuables that I could swipe on my way out of town. I don't really have any adventure stories yet, Not that I'd tell you, anyway, though I suppose if pressed, I could borrow one of the ones Verisimilius told me but I'd love to hear yours! I don't know how long my business will take me today, but perhaps I can come back around closing, and we can get that drink. Illiam doesn't actually drink alcohol, but often feigns drunkenness to gain a mental advantage over someone. Us smallfolk need to stick together! Illiam is laying it on just a bit thick with this last.
Where can I find this Master Figura's (Illiam habitually blunders this name that he's only heard once, so as to not let-on the fact that he has a nearly eidetic memory) shop? He asks passingly, hoping to avoid fixing the memory of him asking for a drill in the gnome's mind. The fewer people who realize he has one, the better, given the way he's planning to use it.
Brickasnurd's visage darkens at the mentioning of Vamros Harg, the town's only other halfling, but then immediately cheers back up, as a thought crosses his mind. Boy, wouldn't that just be nice? If we smallfolk were immune? I tell you, I haven't heard of Vamros being sick. Maybe we are immune! Well gods luck to us all. He smiles wide.
Then, the clearly chaos loving gnome looks at the wandermeal and food rations Illiam has picked out, and starts counting on his fingers. Let's see that'd be one silver for the rations, and eight coppers for the wandermeal... Tell you what, I'll let you have it all for just one silver. What's one silver more or less between friends? He says as he stuffs all the food in a burlap sack, and waits for Illiam to hand over some realm coins.
Now, as for Figueroa, pronounced fig er oh ah, his shop is up in the high market, see, up on the hill, and, well... You can't get up there unless you're in Gavel Kreed's inner circle, or his pocket as the case may be. Hey, maybe... Hildrinsocks looks at Illiam for a moment. No, you're too big to fit in anyone's pocket. So there's the trouble see. Figueroa is pressed under the thumb of the Consortium, and, well, he lives and works up there in the high market. You won't barely ever see him out anywhere. His assistant, that fiery haired youth Dolok, he's usually running his errands for him. Might be you could catch him, and get him to be a runner back and forth, but I think I saw him being led away by force not too long ago, might be he's in some trouble hisself and can't help.
Brickasnurd moves some things around on the barrel where the wand is, and then takes the wand and puts it in his pocket. A pocket that doesn't appear to be big enough for such a wand, but in the pocket the wand disappears nonetheless. I sure would like to share a drink and a story with another of the smallfolk. I usually close up shop just as the guard go about lighting the street lamps. If you aren't here by then, why I'll head over to Jak's place and get a bottle of brandy, and wait there for a bit. If you don't show up, why that's fine too, you've got things to do I'm sure. Either way, 'twas a great pleasure getting to meet you. At this Mr. Hildrinsocks reaches out both his hands and grasps Illiam's and shakes vigorously. A real pleasure it was, Illiam.
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A pleasure. Illiam repeats, staring just a heartbeat too long at the extradimensional pocket before meeting Brickasnurd's eye again. Illiam digs out a silver coin and hands it to the gnome, thanking him.
When Brickasnurd slides over the bag, Illiam removes his pack and stuffs the entire bag inside. And thanks for the tip about the redhead. I believe we've already met, briefly. I'll keep an eye out for him. I just hope he's not in chains somewhere. That Payday fellow didn't look like the forgiving type.
On the way out, Illiam is going to look for a place, probably just inside the door, where he can cast detect magic without it being noticed by Brickasnurd or anyone else who might be around.
Staying quiet throughout the exchange, Goruck observed, and thought. At Dolok's outburst his gauntlets clenched for a moment before relaxing. As they walked out the half orc glanced about. "Such is men when they do not balance themselves. Coin does not replace man, no matter the amount."
Nodding to Dolok, he says, "Let us meet Master Figura. I'll assume local opinion is divide on Kreed, and his organization?"
Checking his blade out of habit, Goruck assented to Kairon's request. "Take the time to do what you must. I shan't argue with a sky blessed."
"You could say that opinion about Kreed is divided yes, - between those that work for him vrs the rest of the population! Regrettably most of the town depends on the Consortium for their livelihood, and through them, the rest of us as well. And by the way that is Master Fi-gue-or-a."
Well, let's get you to him, soonest. Lead on.
Dolok takes off towards the forge & just assumes the envoy group follows him. If they don't he will stop & wait for them or see if they changed their minds.
As you arrive at the open forge area one can't help but be impressed at how clean & neat everything seems to be, especially for an open forging area! Everything seems perfectly situated under a nice slate roof that is open on three sides, joined on the 4th to what appears to be a nice, solid house made of stone masonry. As you look around you start to realize that everything is situated in an exactly perfect & convenient place. The forge itself centrally located. You see various types of hammers, all sitting perfectly in reach from a workbench where it is obvious that larger items might be worked upon, another set of smaller hammers next to a smaller work surface area. A few different tongs all within arms reach of the forge. Water barrels next to each of the work benches. 2 or 3 leather aprons hang on pegs on the wall, and some sets of heavy leather work gloves lay on a table near that.
"He's not out here working at this time of the day? This is really strange! Never in my life have I not seen him be out here working during the day! Please wait out here a moment as I go see if he's inside the house maybe?
Surely! Let us know if you need anything!!
Scipio -- let's take a few minutes to get me in my shell, shall we?
Kairon unlashes his scale mail from his pack, and pulls the inner layer on over his tunic.
Dolok knocks gently on the door, but upon hearing & recognizing the voice of a sick, sounding Master Figueroa, he rushes inside quickly. He freezes in his tracks for a moment as he sees this strong, muscular man with his usual unkempt, unruly mass of black hair with his neatly braided beard, lying in his bed, listless, coughing & wheezing, with eyes dulled over. Dolok rushes over & kneels at his bedside.
Master Figueroa tries to sit up, but Dolok puts out a hand & stops him. Master Figueroa’s eyes light up as he sees Dolok & a brief smile stretches across his face. My boy! I wish you weren’t seeing me like this, but I should of known you would come back! - Cough! Cough!
”Master Figueroa! I had no idea you were so sick! Just this morning you told me to take the morning off because you had no tasks for me! What a I was! I should have known right then that something was amiss! How long have you been feeling ill?”
I’ve felt it coming on for a few days now. - Cough! - I was hoping I was wrong, & I tried to hide it as my work matters so much to me as he looks right into Dolok’s eyes & smiles again, but I just couldn’t hide it any longer today. - Cough! Cough!
”Master! There is hope! An envoy of 3 men has come from Salas sent by some church to try to cure the disease! That fool Kreed as he spits on the floor, thinks he is punishing me or something by sending me and 2 other Valers along to try to help this envoy out! The 3 men of the envoy are just outside, I was hoping you’d get to meet them, but that is out of the question in your current condition.”
Master Figueroa holds up a hand that trembles slightly, No! Please, if you are to go into - Cough! -dangerous situations with these men - Cough! Cough! - I must meet them first my boy! Now please help me to stand so that - Cough! - I may greet them properly! Dolok helps him up and the Master stands there trembling slightly, Bring them in my boy.
When Dolok brings the men in, they see him sitting on the edge of the bed. Everyone is somewhat surprised to see that the interior of the house is rather messy & unclean & things seem somewhat cluttered & unorganized. Is this due to the man’s illness? Or maybe this is a reflection of that which is truly important to the man?
Master Figueroa looks up as all 3 men enter, Well met Strangers! – Cough! – I’m told you came all the way from Salmas to try to help out our little town eh? Well may the blessing of whatever gods you worship be upon you for your valiant effort! - Cough! Cough! – Once I recover from this blasted illness, if you should find need of my services you will find I am the best blacksmith in town! You will also find I am the only blacksmith in town! Haha! Easy to be the best when you are the only one eh? – Cough! Cough! - But seriously, I do excellent work! And if you are successful my services shall indeed be at your disposal! Damn whatever that as he pauses to spit vehemently on the floor! has to say about it! – Cough! Cough! – His saws & axes can go dull for a while! After all, I’m the only blacksmith in town! HA! Who’s gonna sharpen his saws if he kills me? – Cough! Cough! – All I ask is that you keep my boy safe please! He’s all that I’ve got left in the world besides my humble forge! – Cough! Cough! Cough! And with that he rolls over into bed & you think you hear him mumbling something about pardon me & this damn illness.
Dolok quickly, yet quietly, ushers you out and once outside, ”Okay Gentlemen, shall we be quickly on the way then?”
Hold just a moment, Master Figueroa. Kairon unslings his backpack and fumbles inside it until he brings out his healer's kit. I know you are in great discomfort, but by Sarenrae's light, I may be able to help. Lie back as comfortably as you can, and breathe steadily as you can. This will only take a minute. Kairon rests his hands on the man's chest, feels his forehead, looks into his eyes, and so on for a matter of seconds. Then with a murmured prayer to Sarenrae, he dissolves a powder in a small cup with water from one of his two skins, and . . . .
I'll stop back by later to see how you're doing, sir. Rest.
Now we can go.
And the four quickly make for Roots n' Remedies.
Kairon's goddess given ability to heal quickly, seems to, at the very least, have given Master Figueroa an ease to his breathing, which will let him rest without so many fits of coughing. The master smith closes his eyes, and promptly falls asleep, his snoring sounds remarkably like a forge-bellows at work. Seeing him at least sleeping comfortably for the time being, the envoy, Dolok Pickering in two, exit Figueroa's compound and stand once again in the high market. The sun is quickly approaching its zenith, and it appears as though there is but a half of an hour until midday. With retrieving Laurel's book, locating and entreating Baradim's help, and meeting Chillel back at Jak'a'napes all still to accomplish, perhaps splitting apart for the moment would make the most sense, but whom to send where?
On the way to Roots n' Remedies, Kairon notices the sun's place in the sky. Dolok, since you know the town so well, can you go find Baradim and Chillel, and have them wait for us at Jak'a'napes? May be a bit later than we thought getting back there; think I'm gonna need Scipio with me at the healer's shop -- he'll more'n likely remember anything I might miss. Think you can go it alone since we're off the hill? Or, should we send Goruck with you? he asks while looking to Scipio. This 'un's got a nose for trouble, Sip -- might need some . . . encouragement to leave off that for the next little while . . . .
I think we should send Goruck to make sure Teedum and his thugs don't bother Dolok while he's getting Chillel and Baradim. Kairon, we must make haste to Roots and Remedies. We need Laurel to help us with the disease.