"Anger is the enemy of focus, or so one of my teachers told me," Ekan muses aloud
"For some people, perhaps. There are people who get MORE focused when they're angry, that rage being channelled through a single aperture to great effect. Kind of like how the sun's gentle rays start fires when focused through a lens."
"mmm.. something to think on."
"Whether it helps 'em focus or not, I don't feel like meeting someone who's been made that angry," remarks Nicat. "If this runewell turned Jervis into the Chopper, we'll have to go into our little visit there with as happy an attitude as we can manage, to fight it off."
He ponders for a moment and says, "I bet I can keep us all entertained, though, so not to worry. I'll do some juggling, tell a few jokes - I've been working on one about a bounty hunter in a pie shop, but it needs a little touching up. Anyway, shall we go visit Chopper's Isle? I know it a little, since you can see it from my parents' house."
"Sounds gruesome... Maybe we should look into it. How far away is this isle, Nicat? Are we going to need a boat?" Sylvia asks the halfling, finishing her tea.
"No, we won't need a boat," Nicat replies, "the island is connected by a little spit of land. I guess that doesn't make it much of an island, eh? But it does make it a lot easier to get to. Sure would be nice if other islands out there were that easy to get to, I would have explored them all as a kid. I would have walked all the way to the Mordant Spire, and visited Absalom. If I could figure out which way to walk..."
Winding down his little self-distracting monologue, Nicat says, "Anyway, how about we get a bit of lunch, then go to Chopper's Isle?"
Eostre marvels a bit at Nicat's ability to ramble. But her stomach start grumbling again and she nods at his suggestion.
Brodert simply nods and waves farewell to the party without looking up from his papers and books. His two cats stand by the door as they leave, the yellow-furred one looking rather disappointed that they're leaving.
The clouds overhead have settled in by now. Rain is beginning to fall--it's only a light shower, but there's always the chance of it getting worse...
"Hey, why don't we do something different for lunch today," Nicat suggests excitedly as they head out the door, "before we head off to Chopper's Isle and confront whatever fell magic turned a mild-mannered neighbor into a mad killer? How about Fatman's Feedbag?" He pauses a moment, then says, "Hmm, not sure about bringing Eostre to a place that already has a lot of brawls...maybe The White Deer Inn? Classy kind of place, Sylvia will fit right in!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Please, Nicat, I'm a mage. Brawling is not how I do things." Eostre replies in a huff.
"The White Deer sounds more to my tastes anyway. I am nothing if not a girl with an eye for the finer things in life."
"Food is probably wise," The monk realizes
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The White Deer Inn is a welcome sight on this cloudy, miserable day. The three-story building is beginning to grow damp with raindrops, and several townsfolk can be seen in the windows, either having a meal or busily conversing with other people. The two white deer carved from birch bark that stand over the entrance are dripping with rain.
The first floor of the inn is warm and inviting. Several tables are spaced out evenly throughout the common room, and a somber-looking Shoanti man is standing behind the bar across from the inn's entrance. His dark skin and hardened features bear a resemblance to Sheriff Hemlock.
Several of the patrons here are generally well-off and unfamiliar to your eyes, but there are a couple of familiar faces here. In one corner sits the sandy-haired, blue-garbed noble, Aldern Foxglove. He is currently talking with a brown-haired man with a tanned face who is clad in enough armour to make a dozen pitchforks, with a massive tower shield and an almost-as-long sword resting against his chair.
In another corner is the redheaded Shayliss Vinder. She's looking rather glum today.
Gods above, how long does this guy mean to talk about women?
Your arrival in Sandpoint came at a rather interesting time--everyone's talking about how the Swallowtail Festival (some local celebration of something or other) was interrupted by a goblin raid and how a bunch of local folks managed to drive them off. It sounded like something you'd like to have seen--if nothing else, the townspeople would likely have been grateful enough to pay you the money you need for a ship elsewhere.
You've been sitting here for a while now, eating a quiet meal and listening to this noble yammer on about how his life was saved that day. He originally came here looking to hire some locals to help rebuild his family home, and some muscle to keep them from either getting into or up to trouble. The location for the job was far to the south, past Brinestump Marsh.
At least, that's all you've really been listening to. All that's left to learn is how much he's paying for the job.
The sound of the doors to the White Deer opening cause you to look up. In stride a curious bunch of people: a dwarven woman dressed in mage's robes and toting around a glaive, who appears to be arguing with a halfling who's practically bouncing around with a lot of energy. Beside them are a man who looks like he's seen his share of brawling and a blonde lady wearing some sort of multicoloured bird token around her neck.
"Hey, Sylvia!" Eostre says shortly after they enter, loud enough for Lord Foxglove to hear.
"Looks like your boyfriend had the same idea we did!"
She smirks a little, waiting for Sylvia's flustered response.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Conner works his jaw slowly, barely listening to the rambling noble as he waits for him to give a number. To pass the time, he estimates how much time this man had spent in front of the mirror that day. A hour? More? The only thing worse than a noble, was a useless one. All the money and free time you could ask for, and most of them can't be bothered to learn how to protect themselves. Conner strongly suspected that if this man ever picked up a real sword, his hand would erupt into blisters in moments. When he started in about some priestess Conner had to remind himself about the money again. Then promptly remind himself he didn't know how good the money was yet. When the strangers came in, Conner glances over the two women. Not bad. Dwarf could stand to miss a couple meals.
Nicat’s eyes light up when he sees Shayliss sitting in the taproom of the White Deer. Approaching her, he says warmly, ”Heya, Shay! What’s up? Thought I’d stop in for a tasty treat, didn’t know it’d be as tasty as you!” He climbs onto a seat at her table and takes a closer look at her. Recognizing after a moment that perhaps she’s not in the best mood, he says, in a voice tinged with concern, ”Shayliss? What’s wrong? You okay?”
Shayliss looks up as Nicat approaches, her mood lightening a bit. "Oh... hello, Nicat." She looks down at the table again. "It's nothing--just family troubles." She bites her lip.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"...and so, sir, I am prepared to offer a rate of 10 gold pieces per day of work and/or travel in this regard. Most of my expenses are going toward acquiring the materials necessary to rebuild the Foxglove Manor--"
Aldern is interrupted in his constant chattering by the dwarf mage's remark. He looks up in confusion before seeing the priestess, his eyes lighting up and his expression becoming joyful.
"Sylvia? I hoped we'd see each other again before long--it does my heart good to see you in such good spirits on such a miserable day." He gets up from his seat and waves her over.
Taking Shayliss's hand, Nicat asks quietly, "You want to tell me about it, Shay?" Stroking the back of her hand, he adds, "Then maybe we could go hunt some rats, eh? Though I guess I've got some deputy work to do first. But I'd sure like to spend some more time with you, maybe without your da so close by."
Sylvia smiles at Aldern, shooting a glare at Eostre on her way over, "Lord Foxglove, a pleasure it is to see you... so soon, again. Do you have room enough for more? I hate to impose, and understand if you don't."
Conner frowns slightly when the blonde butts in. This was only going to make this conversation take even longer... "Ten a day is fine, but I can't watch an entire work site alone, you'll need a few more people."
Ekan makes note of all going around here but doesn't comment much. His eyes drift to the stranger for a moment as he wonders what sort of deal is working itself out? No doubt it will reveal itself in time.
"Lord Foxglove, a pleasure it is to see you... so soon, again. Do you have room enough for more? I hate to impose, and understand if you don't."
"Oh, certainly! Always room for one more at my table--come, have a seat!" Aldern stands and pulls out an empty chair for the priestess.
"Ten a day is fine, but I can't watch an entire work site alone, you'll need a few more people."
The noble turns to the warrior with a brief look of surprise on his face... it's almost as if he genuinely forgot the man was still sitting there. "Right. Right, of course. *ahem* Sylvia, this is Conner. Conner, Sylvia." He waves between the two people. "I was planning on hiring some locals to help rebuild my family manor to the south. I'd have much more success if these people weren't so bloody superstitious..." He mutters in an aside.
"Anyway, we're currently negotiating the fee for guarding my workers. I think it's been going quite well!"
"You want to tell me about it, Shay? Then maybe we could go hunt some rats, eh? Though I guess I've got some deputy work to do first. But I'd sure like to spend some more time with you, maybe without your da so close by."
Shayliss giggles a little. It seems to have lightened her mood somewhat. "That... that'd be nice, I think. Assuming Daddy doesn't find out--he's got enough problems with Kat and Banny finally deciding to..."
She cuts herself off. "Um... I shouldn't have said so much." She clears her throat. "Anyway, what sort of deputy work were you talking about?"
The noble turns to the warrior with a brief look of surprise on his face... it's almost as if he genuinely forgot the man was still sitting there. "Right. Right, of course. *ahem* Sylvia, this is Conner. Conner, Sylvia." He waves between the two people. "I was planning on hiring some locals to help rebuild my family manor to the south. I'd have much more success if these people weren't so bloody superstitious..." He mutters in an aside.
"Anyway, we're currently negotiating the fee for guarding my workers. I think it's been going quite well!"
Conner frowns. "Superstitious? Why superstitious? Is there some problem you should be telling me about?"
"Superstitious? Why superstitious? Is there some problem you should be telling me about?"
"Oh, something or other about the place being haunted--mostly rubbish. I mean, I grew up there, and I've never once seen anything ghostly or ghoulish roaming the halls." Aldern shrugs as nonchalantly as he can.
He clears his throat. "But anyway, this is all well and lovely, but I haven't heard an answer from you, Conner. Feel like taking the job?"
The bartender looks over at the noble, giving him a glare that would melt steel.
Eostre hops up onto a barstool, no easy task considering her barrel-like physique.
"What's the lunchtime special, sirrah?"
She lowers her voice a bit.
"There a problem with the noble whelp?" She whispers to the bartender.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"What's the lunchtime special, sirrah?"
"Today's special's chicken noodle soup with a side of garlic bread. I've always found it to be just the thing to chase away the cold on days like this." The bartender says as the dwarf takes a seat at the bar. The sounds of rain falling on the windows punctuate his recommendation.
"There a problem with the noble whelp?"
The bartender glances at Aldern again before turning back to Eostre. "Aye. Sodding fool plans on going to a place any person with a lick of sense would stay the Hells away from. 'To rebuild it', he says. Hmph." The bartender's face settles into a scowl. "Y'ever hear the proverb 'never trust a fool'? Well, that's a good example of a fool's errand there."
Ekan can't read the noble, but he finds himself oddly sympathetic to the idea of rebuilding a family home
"Got anything a bit more...substantial?" Eostre replies with a frown. "No offense, but I've always felt soup was more like an appetizer."
When the bartender explains Aldern's "fool's errand," Eostre rolls her eyes a bit.
"Maybe a few ghost stories will scare locals away, but going places no one with a lick of sense would go is in MY job description. Perhaps you simply mistake ambition for foolishness. You wouldn't be the first."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Got anything a bit more...substantial? No offense, but I've always felt soup was more like an appetizer."
"Certainly--we've got freshly-caught venison, porkchops, sides of beef--any of those sound appetizing?" The bartender leans back.
"Maybe a few ghost stories will scare locals away, but going places no one with a lick of sense would go is in MY job description. Perhaps you simply mistake ambition for foolishness. You wouldn't be the first."
He shrugs. "Suit yourself. At least you look like the sort of person who can handle herself. He, on the other hand--" He nods at Aldern. "--doesn't look like he could handle a grumpy cat."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"I'll take the beef. Medium rare. I had boar at the Rusty Dragon the other night."
She nods at the barman's assessment of Lord Foxglove.
"Got a point there. But isn't that why he's hiring that walking armory over there? By the by, what's your name? Forgot to introduce myself. Name's Eostre, Eostre Roldheim. Been with this lot since we helped clear out that goblin problem at the Festival."
"Oh! I didn't realize you had a family manor here in town. I thought you were from Magnimar. How long has your family lived in the area?"
"Superstitious? Why superstitious? Is there some problem you should be telling me about?""Oh, something or other about the place being haunted--mostly rubbish. I mean, I grew up there, and I've never once seen anything ghostly or ghoulish roaming the halls." Aldern shrugs as nonchalantly as he can.
"Right... Like I said, you'll need a couple more. How about these folks? They look competent, and you already know them."
Shayliss giggles a little. "That... that'd be nice, I think. Assuming Daddy doesn't find out--he's got enough problems with Kat and Banny finally deciding to..."
She cuts herself off. "Um... I shouldn't have said so much." She clears her throat. "Anyway, what sort of deputy work were you talking about?"
Nicat grins excitedly at Shay's answer, eager to spend some time with her somewhere other than the rat-plagued basement under her irascible father's store. He shifts a bit closer to her and lays a hand on her kneee, and is about to suggest they get a room at the inn when he realizes she's said other things that, rather surprisingly, distract him from the thought. "Kat, that's your sister, right? What's she decided to do that upset your da? Getting married, is she?"
Before he can pursue this question further, he interrupts himself, "What kind of deputy work, you ask? Well, we're heading out to Chopper's Isle to look into something. My dwarf friend and Brodert Quink have a theory about what might be causing the increase in goblin attacks...well, I mean, if there were an increase in goblin attacks, they'd have a theory about why there would be, but there's not an increase in goblin attacks, because talking about that makes folk nervous..."
Unsure whether he's been quite as discrete as he's supposed to be about goblins in Sandpoint, Nicat cleverly attempts to distract Shayliss, gesturing toward the heavily armed man talking to Aldern Foxglove. "Looks like I might have some other important work to do to, Shay," he says, "seems that fellow has noted how competent my friends and I are and is recommending us for an assignment. That's life when you're a deputy, word gets around that you know your business."
"Oh, my, no. It's bad enough I got drawn into this whole deputy business. No, no," Sylvia hurriedly declines the offer for guard duty. Why did everyone think she was into such stuff? Law enforcement, bounty hunter, now guard? What awful and tragic work all around!
"Anyways, we're off to look into this island of Nicat's. Him, Eostre, and Brodert seem to think there is something there that needs looked into, and Ekan and I both agree that if it's what they think it is, it should be looked into," she explains. "Tell me, Aldern. You live here. What do you know of this Chopper's Isle?"
Ekan nods at Sylvia's comment
"Kat, that's your sister, right? What's she decided to do that upset your da? Getting married, is she?"
Shayliss nods. "And Daddy just about exploded. I don't know why..."
"What kind of deputy work, you ask? Well, we're heading out to Chopper's Isle to look into something. My dwarf friend and Brodert Quink have a theory about what might be causing the increase in goblin attacks...well, I mean, if there were an increase in goblin attacks, they'd have a theory about why there would be, but there's not an increase in goblin attacks, because talking about that makes folk nervous..."
Nicat's rambling about goblin attacks appears to have unsettled Shayliss somewhat--it's visibly distracted her from her troubles at home for certain.
"Looks like I might have some other important work to do to, Shay, seems that fellow has noted how competent my friends and I are and is recommending us for an assignment. That's life when you're a deputy, word gets around that you know your business."
Shayliss giggles. "Well, once you're done with that... I'm not going anywhere."
She winks. "You know where to find me."
"I'll take the beef. Medium rare. I had boar at the Rusty Dragon the other night."
The bartender nods, then turns and calls back through the door behind the bar: "One beef steak, medium cut! Hop to it!"
"Got a point there. But isn't that why he's hiring that walking armory over there? By the by, what's your name? Forgot to introduce myself. Name's Eostre, Eostre Roldheim. Been with this lot since we helped clear out that goblin problem at the Festival."
"Garridan Viskalai." Garridan nods. "And good on ya for cleaning that mess up. Made me wonder if Belor finally got himself some proper warriors for his militiamen."
"And you'd be right--but from the sounds of things, I'm wondering if the 'armoury' knows what he's getting himself into..." Garridan glances over at Conner and Aldern with a concerned look.
"Oh, and that'll be two silvers for the steak."
"Oh! I didn't realize you had a family manor here in town. I thought you were from Magnimar. How long has your family lived in the area?"
"My family manor isn't in town, exactly--it's several days to the south, past Brinestump Marsh." Aldern says while scratching the back of his head. "And my family hails from Magnimar, but I wasn't born there--apparently, the manor stood empty for forty years before Father moved there to fix it up with Mother."
"Right... Like I said, you'll need a couple more. How about these folks? They look competent, and you already know them."
"Oh, my, no. It's bad enough I got drawn into this whole deputy business. No, no."
"It's just as well--you're too precious and delicate to be wasted on something like guard duty, Sister Jahlyn. If you don't mind me saying." He says with a nervous chuckle.
...did he mean that as a compliment?
"Still, it looks like its starting to get to the point where I'll have to return to Magnimar for the men I need. Ser Conner here--" He waves to the warrior. "--was the only one who was willing to hear me out..."
"Anyways, we're off to look into this island of Nicat's. Him, Eostre, and Brodert seem to think there is something there that needs looked into, and Ekan and I both agree that if it's what they think it is, it should be looked into. Tell me, Aldern. You live here. What do you know of this Chopper's Isle?"
"I'll take the beef. Medium rare. I had boar at the Rusty Dragon the other night."The bartender nods, then turns and calls back through the door behind the bar: "One beef steak, medium cut! Hop to it!"
"Got a point there. But isn't that why he's hiring that walking armory over there? By the by, what's your name? Forgot to introduce myself. Name's Eostre, Eostre Roldheim. Been with this lot since we helped clear out that goblin problem at the Festival.""Garridan Viskalai." Garridan nods. "And good on ya for cleaning that mess up. Made me wonder if Belor finally got himself some proper warriors for his militiamen."
"And you'd be right--but from the sounds of things, I'm wondering if the 'armoury' knows what he's getting himself into..." Garridan glances over at Conner and Aldern with a concerned look.
"Oh, and that'll be two silvers for the steak."
Eostre nods and plinks a pair of silver shields onto the bar.
"You know the sheriff, then? I'll admit I never actually agreed to this deputy thing, but the halfling's kind of dragged me into it, and once this blows over I will need some assistants to help in my planned dig here. What exactly ARE they getting themselves into? I'm not local, so I'm not sure what spooks this town's gotta watch out for. Except your famous Devil. Everyone and their dog's heard of that thing!"
Nicat grins and winks at Shayliss, saying, "Indeed I do, love. I'll come see you soon, once we've taken care of our business." He leans in and gives her a quick kiss, then gets up and moves across the room.
Approaching Conner, he says jovially, "Right, who are you then? Looking to set us up with some work for Lord Foxglove, it sounds like! Much appreciated, though we've some deputy business to attend to first."
He extends a hand to the heavily armored man and says, "The name's Nicat, called Brightluck because Desna herself smiles upon me. I'm a deputy to Sheriff Hemlock, my friends here are too. Sounds like you've got a gig you're negotiating with Foxglove here, and we've got a little outing planned nearby, might could use a strong sword arm along with us."
He gives Conner his best grin and says "How about you help us take care of our little task, and maybe we could join you in your job for Foxglove? If he can stand to let Sylvia out of his sight that long."
"Nicat, please, I've got WORK to do in this town!" Eostre grouses as she waits for her steak.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Eostre's steak is brought out not long after she makes her annoyance at Nicat known. The smell of allspice mixes with the scent of cooked meat as the dish is set before the dwarf.
"Cheers." Garridan says, nodding.
"You know the sheriff, then? I'll admit I never actually agreed to this deputy thing, but the halfling's kind of dragged me into it, and once this blows over I will need some assistants to help in my planned dig here. What exactly ARE they getting themselves into? I'm not local, so I'm not sure what spooks this town's gotta watch out for. Except your famous Devil. Everyone and their dog's heard of that thing!"
"Aye, I do. He's my brother, although we rarely see eye-to-eye. You see, translated from our tongue, 'Viskalai' means 'Hemlock' in Common." Garridan snorts. "I suppose 'Viskalai' wasn't contemporary enough for him."
I'll admit I never actually agreed to this deputy thing, but the halfling's kind of dragged me into it, and once this blows over I will need some assistants to help in my planned dig here."
"Can't say I blame you for not wanting to get involved with him--he's always been insistent on doing things his way." The barkeep takes a mug and cleaning rag before wiping it down. "And if you're planning on digging here, you'll have to run it by Mayor Deverin--can't say she'll agree to it, though. Not without a good reason."
"What exactly ARE they getting themselves into? I'm not local, so I'm not sure what spooks this town's gotta watch out for."
Garridan pauses in his mug polishing and looks the dwarf in the eye. "A whole host of misfortune and calamity, I promise ya. Folks around here don't call the old Foxglove manor the Misgivings for nothing--damned place is haunted, despite what he--" He nods derisively at Aldern again. "--thinks."
"Except your famous Devil. Everyone and their dog's heard of that thing!"
"Really now." He sets the mug down. "That story's still going around? Aye, it's a beastie that's been a fixture in folk tales for quite a long time. Can't say it's been sighted at all recently..."
"At any rate, since nobody around here, save for Ser Conner, seems to be interested in helping me with rebuilding my family home, I'll need to return to Magnimar to find more help there." Aldern stands up and nods at the armoured man before turning to Sylvia. "Why not ask Ser Conner to go with you to the Isle, darling?" He says before turning back to him. "Perhaps this can be your audition to see if you're as good as you claim."
Eostre's steak is brought out not long after she makes her annoyance at Nicat known. The smell of allspice mixes with the scent of cooked meat as the dish is set before the dwarf.
"Cheers." Garridan says, nodding.
Eostre nods and digs in, cutting and chewing efficiently while carrying on the conversation.
"Aye, I do. He's my brother, although we rarely see eye-to-eye. You see, translated from our tongue, 'Viskalai' means 'Hemlock' in Common." Garridan snorts. "I suppose 'Viskalai' wasn't contemporary enough for him."
"Your *munch* tongue? Don't mean to sound rude, but it's hard to tell you humans apart sometimes. Though I suppose you could probably say the same about dwarves."
"Can't say I blame you for not wanting to get involved with him--he's always been insistent on doing things his way." The barkeep takes a mug and cleaning rag before wiping it down. "And if you're planning on digging here, you'll have to run it by Mayor Deverin--can't say she'll agree to it, though. Not without a good reason."
"That's one reason why I agreed to this charade. I figure it'd get me in her good graces enough to be more receptive to my request. Plus I plan on mentioning the prestige her town might gain as an archaeologically significant site."
Garridan pauses in his mug polishing and looks the dwarf in the eye. "A whole host of misfortune and calamity, I promise ya. Folks around here don't call the old Foxglove manor the Misgivings for nothing--damned place is haunted, despite what he--" He nods derisively at Aldern again. "--thinks."
"Pardon my skepticism but what kind of proof have you got of a haunting? Lots of times you'll find haunted places in some little town like this and it often turns out to be some con-artist in a costume so ridiculous it'd only scare dogs and flayleaf smokers."
Aldern blinks. "Oh, you volunteered to help as well, Nicat?" He tears his gaze away from Sylvia. "I--oh, there's no excusing it--I was... rather distracted and... *ahem*" His face turns a shade of pink.
"I would welcome your assistance with this, but please understand that it'll take some time for me to find good help."
"Your *munch* tongue? Don't mean to sound rude, but it's hard to tell you humans apart sometimes. Though I suppose you could probably say the same about dwarves."
"The tongue of the Shoanti, miss Roldheim." Garridan straightens up, his posture practically glowing with pride. "Of those who have mastered the burning heights of the Storval Plateau."
"Pardon my skepticism but what kind of proof have you got of a haunting? Lots of times you'll find haunted places in some little town like this and it often turns out to be some con-artist in a costume so ridiculous it'd only scare dogs and flayleaf smokers."
"You'll have to ask around town if you want to hear more of it. I focus more on running my family's business--" He gestures to the surrounding inn. "--than on listening to every rumour about the place."
"Take your time, I'll help as well," Ekan offers. Nicat is talented, but sometimes I think he works best with someone to anchor him a touch.
Approaching Conner, he says jovially, "Right, who are you then? Looking to set us up with some work for Lord Foxglove, it sounds like! Much appreciated, though we've some deputy business to attend to first."He extends a hand to the heavily armored man and says, "The name's Nicat, called Brightluck because Desna herself smiles upon me. I'm a deputy to Sheriff Hemlock, my friends here are too. Sounds like you've got a gig you're negotiating with Foxglove here, and we've got a little outing planned nearby, might could use a strong sword arm along with us."
He gives Conner his best grin and says "How about you help us take care of our little task, and maybe we could join you in your job for Foxglove? If he can stand to let Sylvia out of his sight that long."
"You are...very...talkative."