Kayne had remained quiet from the decision to investigate the fires, and he stays on the edge of things during the opening discussion. Approximately when Kiril makes for the entrance to the hovel, Kayne does the same, bringing Alighieri along behind him. Where the half-orc seems concerned over his money, the warlock is simply not one to waste time dallying with whimsy when he could spend it doing... anything else, really.
Inside the kobolds' warrens, Kayne tries to get to the room he stayed in last as quickly--and quietly--as possible, unless Kiril tries to make him chill.
Flint chuckles at his own clumsiness, a far cry from the tumbling hero who protected Kayne from the troll.
Originally intending on just laughing off his spill, her words changes his mind. He remembers his parents, having moved to the land of dwarfs, in part, to escape all of the noise and fuss in the dealings with the elves. Flint had been basically raised by dwarves, immersed in dwarvern culture and lore from a very young age. The old enmities of his kind forgotten in his adventures as sailor and fortune seeker. Nearly entirely forgotten anyway.
He remembers some of the old talk of his parents. They had never been fond of elves. 'They're always armed with two daggers a piece', they used to say. 'To stab you right in the back.' Knife-ears was a new way to phrase it that Flint found amusing, but to his parents the insult would have been adopted to be said with distaste, not amusement.
Flint's expression fades into a placid smile, his eyes cold. "I did fight the troll. And I did shout it to death. It died from the fear of me."
He isn't boasting. He isn't lying. He speaks with complete confidence, no arrogance. A tumble through the dirt is one thing, but Flint wouldn't allow the story of his glory be disregarded as foolish clowning.
He places a hand on his hip, near his rapier, and gives a fierce grin to the lot of elves. "Of course, if any of you doubt my claim and think me merely a bluffing fool..." he cracks his knuckles. "I've got time for a friendly scrap. So, any of you still needing to get your exercise in tonight? I've still got a bit more life in me!"
Brunar asks Sandy and out of respect asks Gwen want she wants to drink. He retrieves that and any food they wanted. He gives Sandy her food and drink first, then Gwen's. He then sits closer to Sandy with his food and drink and flirts with Sandy, "Now where were we before being interrupted by our adventure?" While taking turns to see what is going on with the elves.
Torn for a moment between her dwarven convictions and her sudden interest in Kiril, Kirstyd is not sure what she should do. Finally, she shrugs, smiles at Gwendolyn, and heads off at a jog after Kiril and Kayne.
Sandy, Gwendolyn and the rescued dwarves move into the center of the elf camp, sitting close to the fire they are offered drinks and treats, such as dried fruits, cheese, salted meats and soft, but a little old tasting breads.
A commotion seems to be taking place where Flint was addressing the three elves who are apparently the leaders of these people.
friend, please, we mean no disrespect, there is no reason to draw arms, Arennoine says holding out her arms
She is quickly interrupted by a lanky, dark haired elf, a lanky, lose limbed fellow dressed in tight brown pants that end just below his knees, high hard black leather boots, and a puffy yellow shirt.
Young Elven Man:
Wait, wait, not so fast, the elven man says. I am intrigued, nay, insulted, yes, insulted by both our fair little friend and my mother’s lack of courage. I would take your challenge, Flint, is it? You have a blade, so I can only assume you know how to use it as well as you claim, but I have no desire to be scarred, or in the heavens blue be run through in your fit of temper. Here, he bows to flint then hurries over to a large chest, painted in blue and gold.
He throws open the chest, rummages around inside and comes up with two rapiers of the finest quality Flint has ever seen. One of them is small sized, while the other he takes by the hilt and swings it back and forth to feel its weight.
The elf runs back to where Flint is standing and says,
These are props, but make no mistake, they are properly weighted, and furthermore enchanted, by the work of Gnomish kin of ours. If you land a blow against your opponent with one of these, a flash of red light, like a brightly colored ribbon will appear. Let us agree to a duel in principle. A Stage duel. We will measure each other’s skill and bravado. Three attacks will be the limit and if you do not score a hit against me, then you lose, while if I do not score a hit against you I am the loser. This way you can prove to us your talent as a warrior, and no one will be hurt unnecessarily. This way, today and from this time forward,we can all stay fast friends, and the past can remain in the past. What do you say? Do you agree?
"I've insulted you, eh? Fun, I wasn't even trying to!" Flint grins as he attracts a sparring partner.
The halfling gives the elf a look over. Short and skinny, compared to a troll. He watches him grab the prop weapons, and listens to his formal duel while growing more and more bored by the moment.
"Sheesh, you sure do take your time explaining. I think I get the gist of it, though I'm not really used to duels like this. I usually just fight when I'm needin' to do some fighting."
He gives his prop rapier a casual look, waving it around to feel its weight. Satisfied, Flint looks up at the elf. "Alright, friend. Let's have at it so I take away your idea that my troll slaying story is a lie."
No more stalling now, the rules are explained, the weapons handed out. As soon as Flint is done speaking, he goes into action.
He pricks his finger with a dagger before tossing it to the ground and gesturing arcanely with his blood-tipped hand, chuckling a couple words of power in the process.
As the recently captive dwarves enjoy the hospitality of the travelling elven families, Sandy and Gwendolyn smile.
Before she even has a chance to take in what is available, Sandy finds Brunar bringing a tray of delightful morsels over to her, a brig beaming smile on his face.
The two are offered stools close enough to the fire to allow them to see each delicacy on the tray, but far enough away to benefit from the nights starry shadows.
When Brunar strikes up a conversation with Sandy, she blushes, and reminds him of their recent night shared together in a bedroll. She laughs, a small good natured laugh, and then sighs, reminding him of the serious tasks that lie ahead
Brunar, I hope that tonight we can rest, maybe share a blanket close enough to these good people that we are safe, but far enough away to afford us a little privacy, and together we can count the stars as we fall asleep, as the younger people say, but I don’t want to forget that somewhere, up in that mountain are two friends I’ve lost, and I want to find them. In the future we may go separate ways, as my following is along a different sort of commitment to a relationship than those of your sect, but until that time I hope we can work together when the adventure is rough, and find rest together when we can
The commotion among the elves and Flint draws Sandy’s attention
What is that crazy Halfling up to now, she says just a moment before Brunar can place his arm around her shoulders, and rises to her feet
The elf smile at Flint, and then flips the sword in his hand end over end once to “ohs” and “ahs” from the crowd
Flint speaks a few soft words and the elf, nods, as if he understands what Flint is saying is some sort of acknowledgement of the rules of the battle, and then he lunges forward to attack
But his timing is a bit off*, and his attack goes high over Flint's head
*
Flint grins darkly, realizing the elf is making a short joke against him in this spar. Turning his own poor aim into a slight against Flint's size.
Well, so be it. Flint will just have to try extra hard to keep the elf's foolishness from making flint look the clown.
He strikes with his rapier, and just to keep the elf paying attention, strikes out with a free hand to try and land a blow to his gut.
"You should be taking this seriously" flint chides with his dark grin.
Brunar smiles back at Sandy then becoming serious, "I am truly sorry for yer loss and we or I will help ya to the best of me abilities to bring closure or vengeance. If that is what is in your heart Sandy ???" Brunar tries to place his arm around around Sandy only to catch air. Brunar gets up irritated that his courtship is being sedated after their time in the castle. He sees Flint stab the Elf, "Don't worry bout them fools Sandy, I am sure it's just a male tussle with rulez"
Flint is keen to catch the hidden barbs in the elf’s attack, and when his own weapon strikes against the elf’s hip, resulting in a spray of red light and the momentary appearance of what can only be described as a ‘flourish of theatrical like ribbons shooting into the night sky,” there is a muffled cheer from the crowd.
The elf is about to spin around and “play along with a stage grunt, when as he turns he is met by Flint’s fist right to his groin. The elf is turned away from the crowd, this was his intention, to try and add a bit of stage presence to the mock battle, and the blow goes unseen by the others.
There is a gasp from the crowd, but Flint cannot tell from whom it came.
The fellow lets out a guttural, but restrained
*OwWheee*
Through his teeth, and bends for a moment, catching his breath before lunging at Flint with a counter attack
A bit staggered from the blow, the elf’s sword strikes the ground a foot away from where Flint is standing
He’s ahead of you by one point, Someone in the crowd shouts with a laugh
Flint frowns a bit, having accidentally got the man in the tackle. Oh well, should still get the job done. May as well lean into it.
The elf, so staggered that he hit nowhere near Flint, stabs his rapier into the ground. Flint takes this opportunity thrust straight toward the man's heart, applying his body weight to the rapier in the ground with his boot.
The elf misses, and in his haste Flint lunges forward too quickly his blade coming short of the elf’s chest as he bends at the waist
Standing and flourishing his blade with a flick to the right and then to the left, the Elf strikes again
Flint barely feels the weapon graze his arm but the flash of red light and the illusion of ribbons is easily seen
Ha! It is a tied match again! the elf shouts
"AYE FLINT, MOVE QUICKER! DON'T LET THE ELF BEAT YOU!" Brunar shouts egging the halfing on.
Flint tumbles away too late, the flash of red light already signifying that the elf got a 'lucky hit'. He comes to his feet in his new position a few feet further away from his opponent, and gives him a confident look.
"Not bad, not bad, but you rely a bit much on the will of the gods, I think." Flint grins broadly, tossing the faux-weapon back. "But a tie is a tie. I'll shake your hand as friends, but know that if you look down on me again, you'll be lookin' up at me from flat on yer back a second later, and I think you know I aint just boastin', dontcha." It's not a question.
The elf catches the small wooden sword and then bows deeply to Flint.
A master of the blade you are, there is no doubt. then he stands and gives Flint a knowing wink adding in a quiet voice, but there is more to this hero than his prowess on the battlefield, I believe
Certainly his stories are true, and I for one will not doubt him again. the elven swordsman says with a flourish of one hand
Good, that’s settle Arennoine says with a quick clap of her hands. We welcome our guest, and hope that the evening does not end before all have laughed, danced, sung, or had the merriment of the stars to their content.
Meanwhile, in the Kobold Hovel…
Kiril finds the hospitality of the kobolds to be more than he was expecting. The little folk seemed delighted to see him again, offering him food, drink, and a small cave of his own to take his comfort. Just as he is about to try and force the door shut on the small chamber, pushing the kobolds gently, but firmly back, the young dwarven maid, Kristyd appears at the back of the crowd of kobolds, and tries to push her way through toward Kiril, a warm half smile playing on her lips
And while Kiril faces this new situation, Kayne finds an out of the way place in the hovel, pleased that the kobolds seem more interested in the warrior Kiril than him, and begins looking through that mysterious book he found.
Kiril is equally delighted to see them, handing out high-fives and toasting. He tells them the story of their recent adventure.
When he sees Kristyd he grins and helps her inside, then closes the door on the kobolds.
"Heya Flint, you need some healin' for yer scratch? Not bad, for a tie, no?"
Flint gives Brunar a nonchalant grin, and points his thumb back toward the elf.
"From that guy? Nah... He's a good performer, but I don't think he can actually fight. Just show stuff, kisses with a sword, no teeth, y'know?"
He blinks his eyes, remembering the magic swords enchantment. He decided that the flash it did in a hit was neat, and he wanted one of those swords. But how to hey one...?
"I'll let you buy me a drink fire a story. " He winks, heading in to the hovel.
Flint has decided he has had all the interaction with these travelling elves that he is willing to take for the night and heads for the Hovel, where the Kobolds great him merrily, providing hot spicy foods, and hearty drinks to his content.
On the way to Cipenny, Brunar mentions, "Don't we have any treasure to divvy up? I don't mind the cut I receive just as long as it is something to maintain equipment and few extra spendin' coin to purchase rounds and etc?"
Flint will chat up the kobolds, genuinely enjoying their company. He tells stories, gets more than just a little drunk, and even reenacts his might roar which felled the beast from fright! All the while, keeping an eye out for the kobold bard hero.
Day 7; Thursday, approximately 3:30 pm: It is the 27th of Svafgunum, the sixth month of the twelve month calendar year (the beginning of autumn)*
What a night it was. What a night it was?
Flint spends the evening, after finishing with the elves, in a small private club difficult to find without a guide, in the maze of tunnels off the main kobold warren. Here he trades stories with Marvin the Valorous and a few other seasoned kobold veterans, those old enough to have fought in the great Goblin Wars of 1363, drinking well into the twilight hours. When he wakes he is bleary eyed and tired, but his head is filled with ideas. He has a new purpose, a new calling it seems – and he is more than eager to try out a few of these new ideas.
Meeting the others at the entry hall and dining room of the warren, Flint first notices that Kiril is bright and ready to. He seems as if he is a man who slept well, a man who enjoyed the sleep that comes in a woman’s arms. He looks across the others, and notices Kristyd is chatty this morning, whispering into Gwendolyn’s ear, and whatever it is she is telling the warrior maid, is making her blush from her chin to the roots of her hair.
Kayne is quiet, but a light dances behind his eyes.
Brunar, who finally said goodnight to the elves late, and returned with Sandy and Gwen seems stern, brooding, as if something troubling is on his mind.
The party gathers for just a moment, checks Algeheri’s stored gear and sacks, and then bids a temporary farewell to Lorelei Smelter, the Chief of the Forge and leader of the Loamstone Hovel Kobolds.
It is a bright and clear day, a bit crisp but not cold, but the autumn breeze reminds you that winter is not far away.
The journey south to the village of Cipenny takes all of the morning and just a few hours past noon.
As they enter the village, the rescued soldiers shake hands all around and head immediately to the watch station, to report in, telling the party that it might take a couple of weeks for the news of their rescue to reach their commanding officers to the west, at the capitol of Ar Toe, but that they are certain a reward will be forthcoming.
Sandy asks Gwendolyn to accompany her to the temple of Wyuddenllwyn to tell Reverend Drogglesok of what she has discovered, and how she became separated from her travelling companions. The Reverend tells her some strange news about a Halfling who borrowed a cart setting out for the Palace of the Vampire and never returned.
Drogglespok takes Sandy aside and speaks softly to her about her growing powers and how she must now choose to remain a priestess of Mevbolla, goddess of natural beauty or transition into one of the higher orders as a priestess of Wyuddellwyn. He makes it clear to her that within this little town the followers of Mevbolla are increasing, her little temple, just a few blocks from the main temple downtown where Drogglespok keeps the precious Crown of Wyuddellwyn, is growing in size and the new bell tower will be finished soon – but that if she chooses to remain a priestess of Mevbolla she can never take a husband (though it is understood she is welcome to become a mother in her own time and under any circumstances she chooses). Sandy tells Drogglespok about Brunar, a priest of Yerina and how meeting him has convinced her to join the clergy at Drogglespok’s main temple, where she can receive permission to marry.
Kristyd politely excuses herself, saying she is interested in hearing news about her former employer and possibly meeting the person known as Waglinde for a new job perhaps.
Kiril knows little about this town, but he follows the dwarves to the watch station, hoping to meet the local sheriff or veterans about town who might know more about the martial way of life.
Kayne, also is new to this dwarven village on the small river that leads to the bay where a ship brought him just weeks ago. There are a few taverns here (the largest is called Otter’s Bench, and sports a sign showing a river otter sitting on a tree stump), but only one Inn, which is actually the upper floors of the Golden Rose Theater.
Kiril, Kayne, and Flint will need to seek rooms in the Inn, or possibly beg for quarters from the village sheriff – the local churches will allow you to sleep in the common areas of their buildings, but usually they will ask a favor for such curtesy.
Kiril stays awhile to talk with the rescued dwarves at the watch station, sharing stories and combat tips, then asks them if there's any sort of master warrior in town, maybe a famous adventurer or military veteran.
Eventually he gets a room at the Inn.
Kayne spends as much of the journey as he can poring over the newly discovered secrets of his tome. Any interruptions are met with an irritated, almost suspicious glare, and he's quick to snap the book shut if he catches anyone watching him. The wonders at hand... Incredible. Who might ave guessed at the arcane lore hidden behind historical conjecture?
Upon arriving in Cipenny, the warlock does slide the book into Alighieri's packs, and takes a moment to orient himself. Begging a lawman for quarters isn't a notion Kayne relishes... nor is seeking shelter in a church. The man didn't disdain religion, but the dwarven gods held little of interest to him, and if they caught wind of his past pursuits, well.
So, with a sigh, Kayne takes his leave of his companions and makes for the Golden Rose Theater. An inn above a place of dramatics... Well, it's better than nowhere at all. The man pushes his way inside, leaving Alighieri tied to a post. The patrons within no doubt look at the black-robed figure with the eldritch gauntlet and hidden face with some trepidation, but Kayne sweeps into the place as though he already owns a share, and heads straight for whatever looks like a desk. "I'm in need of boarding," he announces plainly.
"Hmmmm, what's this!" Flint remarks to himself upon noticing the interaction of the dwarvern women and the well rested Kiril.
Without remaking on it publicly, Flint does some trading with the Kobolds before setting out to Cipenny.
Upon entering the town, Flint will size up the local militia or guard force, tracking down and talking to whatever sheriff he is able to find.
The rescued dwarfs are not originally from Cipenny, and do not know much about the town, but when Kiril engages them in conversation, as they are seated in the sheriff’s tower on the northeast side of the town to report their story to the sheriff (who has not yet arrived), a dwarven fellow who identifies himself as Deputy Oliver brightens and says
Oh, for certain sir. Bardral Hauthorveen is a veteran of the king’s army and lives here in town. He is old, not as old as the good reverend Drogglespok, but old enough. He fought in the battle of Nansca Spring, in the mountains northwest of the Black Village against the ogres Limstal and Gorlaud and their nothginor* followers .
After getting familiar with the layout of the town, and hearing that the sheriff is summoned, Kanye bids good evening t9o the others and heads for the inn.
He enters the theater, a large open room with high ceiling, and a balcony that occupies two sides of the room. There is a stair going up on his left, and many small tables set with even smaller chairs which make the room, though large, seem crowded, packed into the floor space. On his right, behind a tall bar with no stools stands a strange green haired person (Kayne is not altogether sure this person is a woman, though “she” appears attractive by most human standards there is still something about her that different, not wrong or strange, but different) talking to someone who Kayne cannot see.
When he approaches the bar, he then sees that there is a dwarven woman behind the tall bar, smiling and nodding along to the instructions being spoken by the green haired woman.
After expressing his need, the green haired woman turns to Kayne, looks him up and down slowly, and then grins, saying
We can accommodate you sir. How long will you be staying? My name is Waglinde, I’m the owner, and this is Becky, Audurbeck Sohglandheim, my manager. She can tell you about the rooms, find one to your taste, and see to your comfort. I would love to stay and hear what travels have brought you this way, but I have things to attend to, good day.
Waglinde bows to Kayne, stands, gives him a wink, and walks out from behind the bar to the far end of the room, and then through a small door next to a stage that is set so low Kayne at first did not notice it.
Flint stays close to the group, and when he learns the rescued soldiers will give their statements to the local sheriff, he follows along with them and Kiril to the watch station, where he is disappointed to learn that the sheriff is home, and not at the watchstation at the moment, but there are a couple of deputies and one of them heads off in a jog to fetch the sheriff, who he and Kiril learn is named
Gunter VanDroglin
"Ogres? Hmm," Kiril thinks about the troll, and wonders if his days of fighting regular men are behind him. He makes a note to visit Bardral but waits for the sheriff.
Kayne eyes the woman(?) curiously, although reserved, and one eyebrow rises at her wink. His gaze follows her to the stage door, and once she's gone through, he turns his focus back to the bar, looking down at the dwarven woman. "Miss Sohglandheim, was it? I'm not certain how long I'll be staying in town, as some companions have business of their own, so I'll be paying by the night."
The warlock glances around the room again, and beneath his hat and scarf, he frowns. "I'll take a quiet room, accommodations for one. And stabling for my mule."
"Augh!" Flint expressesto Kiril when the deputy has to run off for the sheriff. He waits for a solid 60 seconds before expressing his boredom with waiting for the man to the half-orc companion.
"Tell you what. YOU wait for him, and if it seems like he's got much of interest to say, let me know. I am going to... Do something... else..." he walks away, deeper into the town.
Flint will head to the Otter's Bench, heading inside to order the biggest bowl of stew he can find, while keeping an eye and ear out for any interesting people or strange news.
Brunar heads to the Temple of Baylor in Cipenny to pray for answers for his concerns. Report his findings which is not much so far. And finally to train.
Brunar returns to the temple of Yerina Silver Hand. There he reports his experiences to the Matron of the Temple, Turrinna VonDorshgurt – a middle aged dwarven woman with a husband who is the local expert in gems and jewels and runs a small silver smithy.
When he has reported all that he is willing to divulge Turrinna gives him a slap on the shoulder and a nod of her head, asking him if he intends to pursue marriage to the young cleric of Mevbolla and if he has spoken to Reverend Drogglespok about his further training in the ways of the priesthood. She assures him that if he decides to stay within the walls of the temple of Yerina, his services will be much appreciated and no pressure will be put on him to settle down and raise a family until he has finished the tasks he has begun
Meanwhile…
Flint arrives at the Otter’s bench, smiles when he looks up at the charming plague hanging from the eves with an engraving of a dapper dressed otter sitting on a park bench, and enters just in time to find A dwarven woman throwing white table cloths over the small round tables spread out in front of a little stage.
It is immediately apparent to Flint that this little theater is respectable and well patronized. The furnishings are the best of quality, and the stage has rods above it where various curtains can be dropped by ropes and pulleys meaning humble but not too elaborate productions can be put on for the audience of what he can count would be no more than fifty at one time. The stairs on his left are steep and lead to a balcony that may seat a few dozen more and a hallway that he can see must lead to the inns private rooms.
meanwhile, meanwhile…
Kayne is shown to his private room at the very end of the hall on the second floor, far from the balcony above the main theater floor area. The room is smaller than he had hoped it would be, but it does have a little round table, a desk, and a narrow, but comfortable looking bed. A window on the wall above the desk is open above a narrow alleyway and he can see the roofs of several buildings in a line stretching away from the alley. The dwarven woman, Sohglandheim, asks him if he would like to dine alone in his room tonight or if he would like dinner with the show, which is included in the price of the room? She waits for his reply and then curtseys, and leaves him alone.
meanwhile, meanwhile, meanwhile…
Kiril doesn’t wait long before the deputy returns with the local dwarven sheriff, Gunter VanDroglin.
Gunter is an elderly dwarven man. With a close cropped hair cut and trimmed short beard. His weathered face is lined with deep wrinkles, and he has a hard steel look in his blue eyes.
The sheriff wastes no time seeing to the comfort of the rescued soldiers, ensuring the deputy takes down their names and commanding officers names, so that a letter can be dispatched to the local garrison (some thirty two miles away). When Kiril tries to get a word in as to his own situation, the sheriff is polite, but curt, telling the big man to please step out of the way and wait just a bit longer.
Precisely before Kiril can reach his limit of the little patience he does have, the sheriff approaches him and bows deeply, telling him
You and your companions have my deepest and most sincere thanks. The men you rescued told me that you took on a troll, and that is something few brave men in their right minds would willing do. Allow me to reward you with this,
He takes a small sack out from a lock box in the corner of the room and hands it out to Kiril.
I’m sure the commander at Kingerk Bridge will reimburse me for the reward as soon as he receives a full report from his men of your heroic efforts. Now, a long as you remain in town I can offer you a place to sleep here in the jail. There are two rooms here, one for the deputy, and one we don’t use. I can have a bed set up there if you like. If there is anything else I can do to help you in your further attempts to delve into the Palace of the Vampire Queen please don’t hesitate to ask.
Kiril nods gratefully. "Yeah a room would be great. I want to head back as soon as possible but need to wait for my comrades. Not dumb enough to go back in there alone." He puts the sack of coin into his backpack.
"In the meantime, I heard about an old veteran called Bardral Hauthorveen, wanted to see if he's amicable to chat, share stories and the like. Can you point me in his direction?"
Flint looks at the little theater, a cute and comfy place where the locals can be entertained. His imagination is immediately captured as he imagines the room full, the stage set, and a performance, the right performance taking place.
He notices something missing from the theater. It's missing an edge. This type of place was one frequented by those who had only heard of adventure, and had never taken part of any themselves. These types usually craved for stories of rescues, of royalty, and of danger. The Otter's Bench, Flint realizes, is in need of just a little bit of Iron.
Flint walks up to the dwarvern woman. He begins his imaginary performance already, taking on the persona of a grim, world-weary traveler. His face is somber, his eyes slightly distant, his manner reserved yet cautious. Still dressed for adventure, he hopes the affect is of someone who has seen miles of mysterious road, and countless unknown dangers.
He taps her on her arm, a gentle but undeniable plea for attention. "Good day, Miss. I have traveled for some time. I am looking for rooms to rest, and ears to listen to my stories."
His eyes drift beyond her, checking the room's corners as if still slightly on guard from his traveling. "If you are lacking entertainment this night, perhaps we can make a deal."
Kayne examines the room with a critical eye, but he nods. It will do. He begins setting his things down when the dwarf asks him about dinner, and the warlock pauses. Finally, he turns to her and nods. "Why not? I'll be down in the theater for dinner. Hopefully you're showing something tasteful?"
When Kiril mentions the name Bardral Hauthorveen, the sheriff nods and begins to smile, right up until the big man says
…amicable to chat…
And then the sheriff snorts a full throaty laugh which fills the room.
Amicable, Bardral? Son, Bardral’s never been amicable a day in his life. He’s an ornery cuss, with a short temper and a bad habit of ending his thoughts with a swift strike of his cane. No, he’s not friendly, but you might get him to talk to you about his experience if you approach him with respect, mention you heard about his exploits and want to hear a tale of the Knokhound Regiment, but by no means ever mention the Old Guard, or call him a grog, he’ll read you the riot act for sure. You can usually find him at the Otter’s Bench, after nightfall, before Waglinde’s gone on stage. He has a soft spot for that fell…um, uh, gal and he, I mean she, treats him like a proper war hero.
Meanwhile…
As the dwarven woman listens to Kayne’s answer to her question she gives him a broad smile and a bats her eyelashes at him.
When she turns to leave she whispers something under her breath
Meanwhile, meanwhile…
Flint introduces himself to the dwarven woman, and asks her about rooms, and also asks about entertainment.
Good afternoon sir, I’m Becky Sohglandheim, house manager here at the Otter’s bench. We have three rooms available tonight, one is called the King’s Room, and is a lavishly appointed room for special guests or customers willing to pay five gold pieces per night for the privilege of its appointments. The other two are moderate rooms, best suited for two to four people, but you are welcome to one of them if you are so inclined. If you would like to spend less of your money on accommodations, there is another inn in town, the Red Shutter Inn, located on the northeast corner, on Canal Street. The rooms there are small, the beds hard, but it is clean and proper. As to entertainment, she lets out a sound
*hmphh*
We’ve got that in spades. Larsgav and Junted go on stage at half past seven, they are jugglers, then there is Mardon and his assistant, the lovely Angela, a stage magic act, then after a short intermission, Waglinde takes the stage for a song and dance, or three, and finally, the house musicians, the Family VonEgdarvoot, plays until the bar closes for the evening.
She makes as if she is going to turn away from Flint with having said that, but she hesitates, turns, looks Flint from top of his head to his toes, and then tilts her head and crosses her arms over her ample bosom, then asks, Exactly what is it that you do, sir?
"Aye Matron, I may marry the young cleric of Mevbolla if we can be married but still be active in our own sects. She seems bent on stayin' with Mevbolla and I with Yerina. However, I am interested in the Wyuddenllwyn sect. Can you tell me more? I like healin' friends and bein' able to fight."
Kayne is as nonplussed by the woman's batting lashes as he is unaware of her comment. With a sigh, he returns to his bed, and then eagerly begins reading through more of the secrets of his new tome, finally coming downstairs in time for the supper and show. Surely it won't just be some street performer or vaudevillian farce... Not in a theater like this...
No one has ever claimed Kayne as an optimist, though, and tonight isn't going to change that.
Kiril listens then thanks the sheriff. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the advice," he nods and leaves, heading for the Otter's Bench to look for the old veteran and maybe watch a show.
The matron of the shrine where Brunar has learned the ways of the dwarven goddess Mevbol nods approvingly when Brunar explains his intentions for the young priestess of Yerina.
Aye, it would be acceptable for the two of you to marry, even start a household together while each of you continues to serve the daughters of Wyuddenllwyn but when the lady begins to feel the call of childhood all might change. The great mother goddess Wyuddenllwyn is not for those who plan a life of adventure, traveling the world’s places seeking those who hide from her great loving light. She is our goddess. The mother all dwarven kind, and her priests and priestesses are expected to keep the shrines of her glory so that all of our sisters and brothers can find comfort and wisdom not far from home. If your heart still calls for you to travel the wild places spreading the good nature and beauty of the daughters of Wyuddenllwyn then it might be best for you to keep your heart focused on the teachings of Mevbol.
Alone in his room, Kayne studies the old book found in the Palace of the Vampire Queen.
When he has read all that he can for the evening, Kayne descends the stairs at the end of the hall to find the first floor of the tavern/theater filling up with patrons.
Flint is there, and he seems to be sitting at a small table near the stage talking with the young dwarven maiden who showed Kayne to his room. There is no sign of Brunar, or the dwarven women who accompanied the party on its adventures, Siniglunde (Sandy), Gwendolyn, or Kristyd. The crowd is made up of many different dwarves of almost every age, a few kobolds sit in the corner playing a game of cards, and there is at least a couple of elves and humans among those sitting at the many tables. As Kayne sweeps the room one more time, the big man Kiril comes in through the door.
After doing a circuit of the place looking for Bardral, if Kiril doesn't find him he'll ask to join the Kobold's card game to kill time.