"Does anyone need privacy? I don't recall anyone snoring like a tarrasque the other evening--I'm fine in a large room," says Sarusa, sipping at her ale.
Sarusa takes a look at the cow reports, idly wondering if there is a pattern.
"After all my years sleeping belowdecks, 18 inches width for a man to sling his hammock - which is a fair bit of space for a halfling, I'll grant ye - I sleep better with a bit of hubbub around me. I'm for the common room, and an early start to get us on the road in the morning. And another pint, dear lady! What would yer name be?" calls out Morin as the halfling woman running the place passes by.
Karo follows Chloe out of the Mercantile League, offering his arm for assistance. I must say, well done Chloe. I was afraid I mucked it up there for a moment. Let us go find the others and find some sustenance.
"It's.. it's fine, Karozekas. We all have our strengths... I couldn't defend myself for long in battle, but... but this is really where I can be of help."
She follows along on the way to the Rusty Dragon, dreaming of fresh food.
When they get to the door, Karo nods to Corbyn and then nods toward the Rusty Dragon.
Chloe enters the tavern first, tentatively placing her head inside and listening for the sounds of inappropriate jokes and pirate-speak.
Morin springs to his feet on his bench and runs nimbly along to the end of it, calling out "Corbyn, Karo, Chloe, over here!" as he makes his way across the common room of the tavern. Taking Chloe by the hand, he begins to lead her back to the table, saying "Ah, Chloe lass, I've saved ye the best seat in the house, and in any house - next ta me! Come have a sit and a sip and a sup and tell us all about how yer financial negotiations went."
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"Corbyn, Karo, Chloe, over here!"
Corbyn makes his way over to Morin and takes a seat across from him. He looks Morin in the eye and raises his index finger to his lips indicating to keep quiet.
"The name's Ozzy while we're in town. You never know who might recognize the name Corbyn with so many people around."
Watching as the rest of his new friends enter the bar, Tekk waits until everyone is seated before filling them in on what the Sheriff had to say about the road ahead.
Morin looks abashed at Corbyn's reminder and says "Oh, right, Ozzy! Now I remember, with the big hood and all, keeping your identity secret. Ozzy it is."
He turns to a passing bar-maid and, pointing very obviously at Corbyn, cries out "My friend Ozzy here is thirsty, and he don't want water from a year-old ship's cask! Bring us a pitcher of your amber ale, if you please." He thenk winks at Corbyn reassuringly.
Sarusa rolls her eyes and goes to reserve a room and some boarding for the horses.
"Aye, what Tekkis says," she remarks upon return. "Light and fast, we must go; my apologies, er, Ozzy, no carts."
Karo smiles when he gets to the party's table. Chloe did amazing at the Mercantile, she negotiated a great price for the goods, despite my big mouth almost mucking it up. She deserves our thanks. He motion to the waitress. A tankard of your darkest stout please.
The healer gives Morin a nod of gratitude as he takes her to what really was the best seat in the house, in her opinion. Though she had thought long and hard about how she was going to phrase the haggling without giving too much information to any potential brigands in earshot, Karo makes his report. Chloe smiles, looks down and flushes a happy crimson at this praise.
"We h-haven't sold it all, just yet... The scribe will weigh everything in the morning... and I thought that it would be best to finish our business then... Almost everything closing for the evening, you know?"
The report of the road ahead has her looking pensive. Hordes are always a thing to contend with, and goblins swarm like nothing else she knows. Not to mention Corbyn may have to part with his cart.
She doesn't order a drink, as she has no idea what is on the menu, but she does ask for whatever the day's special is and proceeds to eat it with gusto.
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He thenk winks at Corbyn reassuringly.
Ozzy winks back.
"Light and fast, we must go; my apologies, er, Ozzy, no carts."
"Awwww, I spent 15 GP on that cart. Well I suppose with the earnings we took from the bandits I might be able to afford another. What was the take anyway? Are we planning on splitting the purse or keeping it all together?"
The ale is rich and hoppy, the stout yeasty, black, and almost thick enough to keep a dagger upright. When food is called for, the halfling matron brings local crabs slathered in butter and garlic, the breast of wood ducks, sliced into thin slivers, pan fried in a melange of curry and other exotic spices. A fragrant salad of local greens rounds out the meal. The beds are warm and comfortable, and when you retire for the night, you sleep well and wake refreshed.
In the morning, Bleyvthine finds the weights of your trade goods to be accurate and pays the agreed price. He also weighs the platinum ingot in your presence, the weight coming to four and one tenth pounds, for which is agrees to provide platinum coin of equal value (205 platinum pieces.)
A trip to the Feathered Serpent turns up a fine wand for the curing of minor ailments, listed for sale at 750 pieces of gold.
Savah's Armory is happy to buy the masterwork weapons you have collected.
The wagon and cart are easily traded at Wheen's Wagons, and your animals are well cared for at the Goblin Squash Stables. The stabling and shoeing of your animals comes to a gold piece each, although this fee is waived for any animals you choose to sell. You are offered five pieces of gold for each mule or donkey you care to sell.
Tekk rises early and completes a series of slow-moving martial techniques in the brisk morning air. Returning to the inn, he quickly downs a tall glass of water and several sausages before gathering his belongings.
"I feel lighter."
The following day dawns misty and cool, with a pale sun showing through the fog that drapes the town and the surrounding bay. Your group finishes the rest of its business, re-provisions, and makes your way to the gates of the Inland Road. The Sandpoint Cathedral stands high above you as the sun begins to break through the clouds. The gate stands before you, and the road stretches into the hinterlands ahead. The wild interior of Varisia awaits you and your steeds.
After the first hour, Tekk begins telling some more off-color jokes. Most involve dwarven women, bathing, and large undergarments.
As they ride along, Morin looks up and over his shoulder at Chloe, noting a look of puzzlement on her face. Presuming her look to be related to Tekkis' ribald humor, he begins to explain "I knew a bosun's mate once, would tell the funniest joke out o' the blue just when the crew was aloft reefing sails in a blow or some other dicey job. Ya see, Tekk's joke there is funny because dwarf women have beards, right? And dwarves will try to go swimming in their armor. So when her beard got caught in his...ya know what? Never mind. Nice that the sun came out, innit?"
Karozekas rides along with the others, laughing at Tek's jokes.
Chloe, though extremely outgoing through the haggling and completion of business throughout the town, but Morin's assistance did come at a decent time, judging by the redness of her face as she tried to get a grip on exactly what some of the jokes meant.
"Ah... yes! The sun! Couldn't do without it, could we...? Thank the goddess! Oh, but.. erm... not all dwarf women have beards... common misconception. Those who do have a ... a certain trait, yeah...? Though, I suppose it might be a point of pride..."
Sarusa scans the horizon and takes in the lines of force along the land. "Time for me to spoil your 'wrong kind of mermaid' joke, again, Tekk," she says with a grin. "Morin, you've met any of those out in the deep? You see, 'tis better if the topside were a fish..." She lets out a throaty chuckle.
"But Sarusa... wouldn't that make it hard for them to lay eggs-.. Oh... oh..."
Chloe gulps uncomfortably. Somehow, delivering children hadn't made this any easier (the crude humor, that is). Some of the creatures born of such liasons ended up being... strange, for lack of a better term, though oft-times (thankfully) they couldn't exist at all.
"...eheheh."
You know, when we first started this trip, Morin sang a travelling song. I've been working on one, tell me what you think. Karo says with all seriousness and begins singing a little ditty about a gnome illusionist.
"What is an edition? A different plane?" says Sarusa with great suspicion. "One day you arcanists are going to break the whole fabric of the world and let something fall through, I swear."
Chloe blinks.
"Hasn't that already happened, though?"
"I have mud on my hooves!"
"Starfall, Chloe? Or are you referring to the much more unnatural things that have come from the spaces between the stars? Neither one is that pleasant, although I suppose good things came from Starfall...eventually." She shivers slightly. "I can sense their lines, sometimes." She is clearly not referring to Starfall. "They are not normal. The most perverted demon is more normal."
"Wait, what things...?" Chloe asks, clearly on edge. She had never heard of things coming from between the stars (unless ther were talking about the rough beast, maybe), and something more unnerving than a demon had to be watched out for. Maybe slain? Well, if they're hurting people and couldn't be reasoned with. Oh dear, oh dear...
"What things?! There aren't... aren't any here, are there?!"
Tekk glances at Chloe, "No, lass, not around here. Well, they were here, but they got a downwind whiff of Morin's codpiece and they fled like the hordes of Hell were chasing them!"
He claps Morin on the back and winks at the halfling, "Ah, Chloe, I'm just kidding, Morin isn't wearing a codpiece!"
"Now, Sarusa, talk to us about something else - like how did you meet your friend here? I think he's the first giant frog I've ever seen."
Gellig eyes Tekk with one large pupil.
"Dear Gellig is from the Mushfens, along the Yondabakari. Deeper parts than where we trekked coastal-wise; that's more salty than frogs like. Upriver, though, where it gets truly dark and damp, you'll find 'em--and boggards and the like as well. I drew Gellig out with the help of my teacher, and he's been a faithful companion ever since, haven't you, my friend?" Sarusa twinkles at her batrachian companion.
Gellig appears to nod, although he could just be swallowing some small animal.
Morin shakes his head, laughing a bit, before responding to his large, armored companion, "I expect that's the first time anyone related to an orc has taken issue with the smell coming off a halfling! I'd wager when that armor comes off, you smell like a 10-year-old cask of salt beef that's been floating in bilge off Katapesh. And Chloe'd know if I smell, I ride with her all day - she'd have said something for sure by know...uh, wouldn't ye have, lass?"
"Provided I was certain the odor.. could frighten abominations.. perhaps not." Chloe said, laughing quietly.
"Of course I would tell you if... if you had such a stench, Morin... that, or you'd get.. a surprise shower, though I doubt Dodi would appreciate the sentiment...?"
With a few breaths, Chloe comes upon another question, her face taut in serious contemplation.
"Tekkis... How... how do you know that Morin isn't wearing a codpiece?"
At Chloe's last question, Karo begins laughing so hard he nearly falls off his horse. With tears in his eyes he says. "She's got ya there Tek, so what about it?"
Tekk groans and raises his hand, "White flag, I surrender to your superior wit. Tail tucked between my legs."
He joins in the laughter with the others, and soon begins whistling and singing a variety of Varisian drinking songs.
By the eleventh bell, your fellowship has left the pleasant confines of Sandpoint. With ballads and witty banter flying fast as arrows, you make your way east, soon leaving the waters of the bay behind. Low hills and small woods rise to the verge of the road, known as the old Varisian Kaspakari to the locals. The sky is a luminescent white, the sun all but hidden behind clouds, and with no heat to burn them off, the fogs remain, draped about the landscape and obscuring your vision. You can barely make out the white cliffs of the Devil's Platter to the south. After an hour of riding, a small lichyard appears in the mist, rising on small hills to the north. The rusty, wrought iron gates hang open, a shattered lock and fallen chain evidencing the manner of entry. The road continues eastward, a larger forest flanking the northern edge, while to the south rocky hills and tors stretch into the mist. The low susurrus of the bay whispers in your ears, seemingly coming from the north, although sounds seem strange in this fog, muted, as though all the world were about to vanish into white.
Morin ponders the small cemetery as the group draws closer to it, and then asks "Anyone fancy getting off these beasts for a moment and stopping to eat our lunch in the cemetery there? I don't spend a lot of time in lichyards - more accustomed to burial at sea, couple of cannonballs sewn into the sail ye're wrapped in, ya know? - but when I do, I'm always amazed by some of the crazy names attached to what must have been pretty common folk."
Tekk stares at the cemetery for a while before responding, "Aye, I'm curious too. It'll be interesting to see if that broken lock is a sign of more nefarious deeds."
He grins and looks at the group, "And of course, I'm guessing the lock was broken from something going in the gate. Might be more interesting if something broke the lock by trying to get out.
Tekkis heads into the small cemetery looking for anything unusual.
