Jayse's outburst takes Jofram's attention, then he looks at the stone on the table and his disheveled meal. He seems to find something of interest in the bits of mutton that were knocked about, then abruptly stands up.
"More ale…" Fetching his tankard from the table, he sets off, mumbling about spilled drinks.
Ushari's sharp gaze sees Jofram heading to the back room, and suspects he was upset about the news Straehan uncovered about him (with her help, of course.) She realizes the memories of the townsfolks being slaughtered and devoured by their invaders must have been difficult for him to handle.
I hope he does not feel guilty about surviving the loss of his home like we all have.
Straehan considers Jayse's outburst and Jofram's departure. A small sigh escapes him. What the hell can you say to someone who just found out a horrible truth about himself?
"Oh, hey, I know you were a bastard-coated bastard with bastard filling who committed vile crimes... but on the UP-side, you aren't that psychopath anymore."
Straehan grimaces to himself. It had taken him some time to come to terms with his own past without feeling like he'd been kicked in the gut. And even now, the full scope of his infamy wasn't known. As he'd tried to hint to Jayse, perhaps certain details were best left unknown.
Jayse doesn't seem to give any mind to Jofram's reaction. Not exactly like I handled it much better.
He does give the half-elf some time to make it back to the table before continuing. "So, emotional vertigo aside, here's what I can piece together." He begins wiping at the streak of his own blood with his sleeve, still avoiding physical contact with the black stone embedded in the table. His voice is pitched low enough that other tables hopefully can't hear, "Your news triggered more memories, and I'm thinking some of them probably play into what we've learned from some of the rest of our memories, as well. The only memory I had when we first met… of me standing on a cold white but blood-soaked beach… more of that came back. That was immediately after Blackstone destroyed Dehanté ké Hath. He'd worked meticulously for months to take the place down, volunteering to take various jobs so he could set up its downfall. Anyway, i don't need to go into the details. The short version is this. He was a killing machine. And I don't simply mean that in the 'single-minded and unstoppable' way, though that seems to be not far off. He literally saw things from a completely emotionless perspective. People were targets, assets, calculations… one memory I have is of killing a whole family - including a child - because one of them was an informant. Blackstone couldn't pinpoint his target, so he killed them all. Coldly efficient."
He pauses for a few moments, organizing his thoughts, "Two other things stood out to me. First of all, he destroyed the facility so that he would remain the best. If they couldn't train any competing assassins, he would remain on top. Though he knew other assassins would be after him because of it. Now that was a long time ago, but I'm guessing a story like that doesn't get forgotten. I don't know whether we should be expecting other agents to still want Blackstone dead if they learn he still lives."
"Secondly, in the memory, i remember that Blackstone's… that my heritage is of 'true Bollini', and that meant the blood of Shaudran runs strongly in my veins. What does that mean? I remember knowing that I had access to power that my instructors didn't know and couldn't fathom. I remember knowing that the second gamble to bringing down the facility was in my ability to hold the cornerstone of the entire building in place by mental strength alone. We need to find out what kind of power flows in the veins of a true descendant of the Shaudran. I need to know what I am."
Then a third thought strikes him, and he shrugs, "Then I guess we need to figure out how this plays into everyone else's story. Is Jofram's story all of our stories? He's just the only one to remember them?"
Jofram returns to the solemn table, having procured an overly large bottle of some foreign spirit and a cluster of small cups. Without preamble, he drops into his chair and takes a swig from the bottle, it's size likening him to a child stealing a nip of brandy. Filling the cups with no particular care, he plops the bottle down, rocking the table with a creak of the weathered wood.
"Then I guess we need to figure out how this plays into everyone else's story. Is Jofram's story all of our stories? He's just the only one to remember them?"
Jofram taps a finger against his temple. "They couldn't get in here. The right keys for the wrong lock." He laughs mirthlessly, as if at some unspoken irony. "They couldn't tell the difference, so they just assumed..."
Raising glassy eyes, he stares at Jayce and Ushari. "...same as everyone else - just thish time it worked out in my favor; if you can call it that."
Gods, this is going to be a bad evening...
The gnome grabs the oversized (for him) cup and slugs down the liquor, shivering. "Gah! It's embalming fluid!" The alcohol and strange herbal taste smack him dizzy.
He pushes his cup over the Jofram, "Hit me again."
The lopsided grin on the gnome's face says the drink is working all too well. Straehan frowns trying to concentrate on the conversation.
"The Shaud'rn are gonna be hard to find, Jayse. The elves wiped every trace of knowl'dge about'em. Mebbe Isolde knows more or could find more. There just ain't much recorded. All that information - lost - bast'rds!"
Straehan takes another slug of the liquor, shivers, and points at the cup. "This is growin' on me! Now, where was I? Yeah, Shaud'rn. We may have to go to the source on this one, Jayse me-boy. Examine Shaud'r sites, maybe raid a building or two. Seduce some pretty Shaudran girls. Buy'em dinner, take'em dancin'."
Jofram sloshes more of the hellbroth into his and Straehan's cups. A generous amount of it ends up on the table, vapors rising from the small puddles.
Jayse clinically examines one of the Hellbroth puddles and is encouraged by the fact that it doesn't appear to be eating the table.
The gnome leans his chair back and rests the cup in his lap while plopping his over-sized boots on the table. "Bin thinkin' 'bout yur quest'n, Jay'sh. I think Jofr'm's story is wha' happen'd to us all. 'Member that misty b&~~+ show'd up and Fin got froze but Jof'r here didn't. She talked about bringing us all here." He nods as if this proves something. "So, yeah, we were there. Sorry, I don' 'member it."
Jayse clinically examines one of the Hellbroth puddles and is encouraged by the fact that it doesn't appear to be eating the table.
But, given his current state of mind, he decides to pass on the stuff.
"True enough. Which means other than this business with Bitiborium, I don't know if there's anything else here for us. I guess we could look for some Shaudran ruin locations from here or something."
"So, yeah, we were there. Sorry, I don' 'member it."
"Ah told you... they could' figur me out. Elphs an' Humuns... different. Hafelphs... differenter."
"'Hafelphs'? Yur slurrin'yur words!" He grins, "Yur drunk!"
"True enough. Which means other than this business with Bitiborium, I don't know if there's anything else here for us. I guess we could look for some Shaudran ruin locations from here or something."
Straehan nods, "Mebbe. Figur' our course as we go. Don' have a mission really. Could see wher' winds blow us... until fog'girl comes back."
"True enough. Which means other than this business with Bitiborium, I don't know if there's anything else here for us. I guess we could look for some Shaudran ruin locations from here or something."
Ushari glances at Jayse and while her voice is calm, the look in her eyes is somewhat alarmed. "I guess we could see if there are any Shaudran ruins on Amador Isle...well other than the Tower..."
"I guess we could see if there are any Shaudran ruins on Amador Isle...well other than the Tower..."
Jofram chuckles into his emptied cup. "Heh heh... Shaudran. Shoooow-drahhn. Shoooooooowwwwww Dronnnnnnn."
"That's good, Jofram. Why don't you have another drink, there, pal?"
He turns back to Ushari, "We might need to do just that. It'd be a good chance to touch base again with the few friends we have these days, too. Though I'm not looking forward to making that trip again any time soon. Maybe we should rest for a bit."
Ushari sighs, "I am definitely NOT looking forward to heading back to that Tower...but I have a feeling we may not have a choice here." She drains her wine glass and pours another drink for herself. "In any event, we need to stay here for Bit to contact us. I think we have enough money to hang around town for a few more days."
Straehan moves his boots to one side to regard Ushari, "I'm nah drunk e'nuff to think tha's a good idea. There's ruins and RUINS. Wanna play wit Shaud'rn? Find a nice, small, ruin... nah' som' lurky, shadowy, menacin' one tha's untouched by time. Ar'you CRAZY?"
"And here I'd have taken you for more of a 'don't judge a book by its cover' guy, Strae..."
Ushari snickers, "Strae, I have been called FAR worse by other people I know, so I will take your comment in the...spirit...it was intended! I hope we can find a different ruin to explore, seing as I have experienced the Tower before, which was not a lot of fun."
"And here I'd have taken you for more of a 'don't judge a book by its cover' guy, Strae..."
The gnome barks a short laugh. "'S true. Can' judge a book by th'cover... but you kin fin'out how much it COSTS."
Ushari snickers, "Strae, I have been called FAR worse by other people I know, so I will take your comment in the...spirit...it was intended!"
The gnome waves off the comment. "Wasn' an insult - fact. We're all crazy - muckin' 'round with exile gods, Dwellers, and towers. I poison'd people for books for god's sake. Tha' don' make me SANE - whether it was me 'er not me-me. Get it?" He gives the cleric a rakish smile, "'Sides I said you'r crazy with a lot of charm. No offens' eh? Crazy is keepin' us sane in th'crazy world. What we're seein' and doin' - SNAP the minds of norm'ls. Takes crazy to live thru' this. Write tha' down. It's fu<kin' genyush."
Jayse looks between Strae and Ushari, "I was talking about the towers... just cause it looks more dangerous doesn't mean it... nevermind."
The gnome looks glassy-eyed at Jayse. "Yeah. I recall Isol' warnin' us about that one tower bein' the wors' of th'lot but I might be 'memberin't wrong."
Straehan sits up and looks at Jayse closely with an owlish stare. "You'v got a nice nose ther'. Looks good on yur face."
"aaaaaaaand I think you've had enough to drink, Strae," Jayse says as he reaches over to take the gnome's cup. "What say we all call it a day?"
The gnome looks briefly outraged, "HEY!" then settles back sulkily, "You don' have to be so sens'tive 'bout yur nose."
Usahri looks at the inebriated gnome and considers whether she should use her clerical magic to remove the effects of the potent drinks. After a brief moment, she decides Naah...it will be a good learning experience for him.
The next day dawns bright and glorious... for Jayse and Ushari. At breakfast they eat on the front patio in the sunshine. Jofram stumbles out about halfway through their meal, the sunlight stabbing daggers into his eyes, as he nurses a significant hangover. He slumps into a chair.
Some minutes later, Straehan limps out, nursing an even larger hangover and a face that is so bruised, his features are barely discernible. He winces as he sits down, favoring some tender ribs.
"There better be coffee or I'm gonna burn this place to the ground." Fortunately, the gnome spies the coffee service with his good eye and pours himself a brimming cup. After a long sip, he sighs and winces, "Ahhhh, disaster averted."
Ushari smiles at the gnome, her eyes twinkling. "GOOD MORNING Sleepyhead! I hope you slept well!" She eyes the bruises on Straehan's face with a clinical eye. "Did you have an adventurous night earlier...maybe visited by some hot succubus in your dreams perhaps?" She then looks over his face, all the while trying not to burst out laughing.
Even hung-over and barely able to see, Strae picks up the tone underlying Ushari's comments. His reply is acidic.
"I'm so glad my condition amuses you. I expect, had they killed me, you'd be rolling on the floor in hysterics now." He glances over at the ranger and says quietly (to honor his hangover), "When you're up to it, I'd appreciate a little healing magic. I'd ask our cleric but I don't think she'd be able to cast while snickering."
Ushari's smile disappears in a flash as she notes his wounds are not due to any self mutilation. As she lays a hand on his brow allowing her healing magic to flow into his battered body.
"Sooo...I take it this was not due to any...female companionship? Care to tell us what happened to you? And who is They?"
The gnome's face reappears from the mass of bruises and his breathing eases. He nods, "Thanks."
"Well it started out innocently enough. After you all went to bed, I decided to sample the nightlife here. I was down at the Brazen Strumpet drinking and chatting up a few working girls - just shop talk really. I wasn't making a play or anything like that. Anyhow, this one pretty lass and I are walking and talking on the veranda and this possessive fellow who's taken a shine to her interrupts us. Apparently, he thinks he's her boyfriend or some-such. I'm guessing he's one of her regulars. So I try to explain that the lady and I are just talking. He wasn't having any of it. I'm not sure if it's because I'm a gnome or what-have-you but he was itching for a fight and any excuse would do."
Strae takes another pull off his coffee before continuing. "So I'm still drunk and getting irritated by this fellow, and so was the girl for that matter. Anyhow, for some reason, I notice his nose is crooked. Otherwise, he was kind of a pretty-boy. So, in my state, this struck me as funny - a pretty-boy with a bent nose. So I commented on it. He took my remarks... 'badly'. And the fists started flying."
"You should have been there, Jayse. I was mixing it up. I took more hits than I delivered but I'm pretty scrappy and a good deal tougher than Bent-Nose. So I was coming out ahead on the exchange. Maybe he figured that out or maybe he was just pissed that he couldn't drop a little guy with ease. In any case, he brought brass knuckles into the game." Strae holds out a hand and extends his claws briefly. "He escalated so I escalated. And let me tell you, I was giving him a serious thrashing after that... But even gutless bastards have friends. All of a sudden, I've got Bent-Nose and three big bruisers on me."
He gives a self-deprecating smile, "I may look like hell, but you should see those boys. I bet their toes are positively blistered from kicking me so much."
Ushari sighs inwardly, Sooo...it was due to a woman. Why can't he be a little more...discreet when it comes to dealing with other women?
"SOooo, you basically fought all of them off. I see...and did Bent-Nose promise a return visit?"
"I didn't fight them off - I lost. They beat me like a broken drum - with most of the whore house watching, no less. After awhile I got off a spell - glitterdusted most of the veranda. While everyone was wiping the dust from their eyes, I ran away... after kicking one of the big thugs in the jewels."
"As for Bent-Nose... well... in retrospect, there might be a complication there. Towards the end of the fight, while I was on the ground, Bent-Nose was down too. I was a bit too busy getting bruised to pay him much mind at the time but I've been running the fight in my head since then. He was on the ground looking for something - his nose, I think. I must have knocked it off in the row. I think it might have been a disguise."
Slowed by his hangover, Ushari heals Strae before the hal-elf can react.
Jofram gives the gnome an appraising look, wondering silently how much of the story was true. "Ah, well - easy enough to avoid them. You can avoid the Strumpet, and they have no way of knowing which inn you are staying in."
With a wince, the ranger asks carefully, "They don't know where we're staying, do they?"
Straehan grins, "Only if they are telepathic. They weren't asking questions."
Ushari frowns, "Unless you were followed by one of them. Even if you were not tailed by one of them, it would not be difficult for Bent-Nose to discover where you are staying, Strae. Especially if his pockets are deep enough."
"Well, Bent and his friends were scratching their eyes out with about a dozen other folks when I left. I suppose it's possible I got followed if they cleared their eyes quick enough."
Further discussion on the subject is curtailed by the sight that trundles past the Old Fish - an over-stuffed wheeled cart being pushed by a small, bright-eyed, gnome.
Bitiborium pushes the cart to a stop in front of the fence and regards our heroes with a smile and a wave. After catching his breath and admiring the day, the plucky little merchant strolls in and joins them at table.
"How do, folks! I see you..." He consults a strange circular object in his vest pocket, "... made it here perhaps not in record time but definitely before I expected to see you. Have you had fair winds?"
He grabs a croissant from the table and jams the whole thing in his mouth. Rolling his eyes in delight, he talks around chipmunk cheeks packed with pastry, "Thesse are THO goodh! If I met a woman halfh as tathty ath this, I might actually marry her."
Ushari waves in greeting at the unusual gnome and idly wonders whether he was an extraplanar agent for another deity or other power. Somehow she doubted such information would be forthcoming, at least not right now.
"Yes, the winds were very favorable and the Mako is a fine vessel!" She gives the gnome merchant a grin, "You mean you have not found the perfect woman yet, during all of your travels? I suspect such a woman does not exist."
The merchant gives her a sly smile. "Oh, I've met 'Miss Right' a few times... only to discover a bit later that she was actually 'Miss Right Now'." He bursts out laughing. "The search for true love goes on."
He helps himself to some juice. "So my friends are you in town long enough to perhaps help me out or should I call on you another time?"
Jayse shrugs, still processing the events of Straehan's night, "Now's fine. We don't have any immediate plans... other than keeping an eye out for a hot-headed pretty-boy with a bent, fake nose who no doubt has it out for Strae. What is it that you need help with?"
"What? No one 'has it out' for me. It was just a little tavern dust-up."