Cathran groans as she wakes up from her brief bout of unconsciousness, and simply lies on the dirty floor, sneering up at the ceiling and the warm feeling of blood dribbling down her face. She is content to wallow in her shame until Riley and Lineera come over to help her up, and she somewhat reluctantly stands with their support.
As the tavern resumes its liveliness (not to say that the brawl wasn't lively, but this was certainly a less violent kind of lively), Cathran retrieves a simple handkerchief from her person, and wipes the blood and dirt from her face first, then does the best she can for her clothes with the quickly stained cloth. Tucking the soiled thing into her belt, she approaches the table where the former combatants sit in pugilistic camaraderie. At the judge's compliment, she stares in mild confusion--she found this man and this town confusing: drinks after what felt like a murderous fight; a judge of rough character who, if his half-orc friend was to be believed, had killed hundreds of people in an arena. Determined not to go too against custom, though, she gives a curt nod and answers, "Hand-to-hand combat is not exactly my forte." As Cathran slowly becomes less bewildered, the reason she had started the fight in the first place rushes back. Her gaze sharpens at the judge and she crosses her arms. "Well, now that we have got that matter over with," Cathran starts, referring to the brawl as if it were an unpleasant or tiresome errand, "I am ready to accept your apology for implying that our party is akin to a harem."
Lineera eyes flash and she rams her elbow into Cathran's side. She quickly regrets this as her elbow meets the steel of her breastplate, and clutches her elbow. "Ow, ow, ow!" Lineera bites her lip, seems to steel herself, and decides the verbal approach may be better. "Cathran, it's not the time to play at posh and proper. We lost, and right now the victors are offering to sit down and have a drink with us as friends. Things could've been a lot worse than this, we got trounced, so hush! No one likes a sore loser."
"I am not saying that we cannot sit down and civilly share a drink," Cathran starts, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Lineera's attempted elbow jab. "I simply wish to clear up the issue of our occupation. Honestly, where does such an idea like that come from?" she somewhat rhetorically asks the violent lawmen, trying to considerably reduce the scolding tone that would usually accompany such speech.
Riley pulls up a seat and pulls the cork out of the bottle with his teeth. He pours the judge the first mug. He then leans over to the female miner who whipped his ass and pours her a mug. "Mom always said I was a little hard headed. I guess it finally paid off." He gets up and heads to the rest of the victors to pour their drinks. "I am sure it is due to your exquisite beauty fair Cathran." He gives a teethy smile. Holding up his mug: "To the victors...may your pints stay full of fine mead and your pockets overflowing with coin!" He pauses for a second thinking then continues: "and may I never end up on the wrong side of a dispute with my new friend..." he points to the female miner and awaits her name.
The judge laughs. "You want an apology, ask your friend here for one. She's the one who came up and started offering services." The judge tells Cathran with a wave of his hand, waving off her demand for apology. "If you're really that insulted, I'll meet you in the pit tomorrow, any weapon you want." He says with some steel in his voice.
Taking a swig of the mead Riley pours, he smacks his lips. "Mmm, good stuff."
The Deputy raises an eyebrow at Lineera. "Well, you wouldn't make it a day in the army with those sticks for arms. Even with some magic. Royal Infantry Mages have to be able to lift their own packs, and drag a wounded body out of combat. Same with the Marine Cleric Brigade."
The female miner takes the glass with a grin. "Marla Steelbeard."
The gnome laughs. "Yeah, her great grandfather was a dwarf, or so the story goes. Not sure if I believe it. Maybe a stone giant."
Riley bows deeply with a smile. "Tis an honor Miss Steelbeard." He listens to the gnome. "Aye. I would believe stone giant for sure!" he laughs and then pulls up a chair at Marla's table.
He looks back to the Deputy. "She may be skinny, but you should see her dance..." he leans his head back and closes his eyes as if to fein thinking about her dancing.
Cathran rolls her eyes at Riley, but turns her attention quickly back to the judge. The eyebrow raise Lineera had earned is nothing compared to what Cathran manages this time. "She did, did she?" Cathran asks, directing an inquisitive stare at her drow companion. She tentatively takes a seat. She throws a look around the room, trying to find where Eva and Mahb have gone. She gives a slight nod to Eva to motion for the little gnome to come over. She meets Mahb's eyes, but decides that she doesn't want to ruin the witch's ruse.
Cathran takes a tentative sip of the drink Riley had poured for her, wincing at a split in her lip. "So," she begins, addressing the judge, "Amos, is it? Cathran Ingwood. It has been a...well, perhaps not a pleasure in the usual sense. But I suppose you are more intriguing than any judge I have ever met."
Lineera laughs, "I don't dance, I sing, Riley." Lineera grins, a bit uncomfortably. "I mean, I dance a little, but... how'd you know I dance?" Lineera asks lightly, but seeming genuinely confused. Lineera seems to bury herself in this conversation, not meeting Cathran's stare.
"I've seen you move. If you can't dance, then I can't play cards." he gives her another smile. "You could sing for us!"
Lineera offers a grimacing smile in return, "Riley, I just got punched so hard in the chest I flew a few feet, I don't think my lungs are up for singing."
When the brawl is finally stopped, Aurora can't help but look in disbelief at the strange people of this town and their bizarre 'customs', but eventually the look of bewilderment on her face fades and the young paladin simply sighs, shrugs and shakes her head, not unlike how a loving mother, resigned to see her unruly child misbehave yet another time, would possibly do.
Trying to be discreet, Aurora approaches her friends and helps them stand and dust off their clothes, all the while using her powers to infuse them with a small modicum of divine energy to help ease the pain of their injuries.
When she's done, she simply gives a shining smile to friends and strangers alike, and goes to sit back at her table to finish eating her meal.
Lineera talks at length with Amos and the Deputy, casually asking about local happenings and such, hoping that with their newfound friendliness, that the two will be a bit more open with their information.
Confused, but considerably less insulted than before, Cathran puts in a word here or there, commending the strange lawmen's skill at arms.
Conversation moves on to battle stories, with the Judge reminiscing about fighting in the pits. As the evening continues, he get's drunker and drunker, eventually showing off a bit, including placing the empty mead bottle on the table and slamming his forehead into it as hard as he can. Shards of glass explode out from the blow, and the table cracks from the blow. The judge however, doesn't even get a cut on his skin as he sits up grinning before slowly tumbling over unconscious.
The deputy catches him, a little unsteady on his feat himself. "'Scuse me." He fetches in his pocket for a packet, and with fumbling fingers pours a green powder into the half-mug of ale he's got. A noxious green smoke rises up and the deputy downs the foul smelling result in one long gulp. He gives out a sound like a dying bull elephant at the taste, but after about 30 seconds his motions steady and he quits slurring his words. "I better get his honor back home. You lot watch your step, I'll still run you through and put you in jail if you cause problems. Skin you alive after a fair trial too." He nods at the outsiders, and with very little visible effort hefts the judge up on his shoulder and carries him out. The guard and the dwarf follow him out.
The hooded man and his elf companion had left earlier, as had the miners, so that leaves Mahb, and her companions, as the only people left in the tavern. The bartender pulls his cannon out and lays it on the bar and clears his throat politely. "Alright, I figure the damages tonight were right at 100 gold. I'll give ya 30 gold off that for makin the Judge feel better. At least he left smiling, ain't seen him do that since.. well, it's nice to see again."
The old hag guffaws and bites on the edge of the table. "Unless your chairs are made a silver, a hun'ert gold seems steep... even for out-o-towners with deep purses." She looks at Eva. "You set at my table, girl. With these prices, I figger ya owe me 10 GP for my charmin' company." She cackles until she chokes.
The bartender looks over at the old woman in the back. "That includes fixing my damn roof, you old hag. I had to put holes in it to stop the fight from turning bloody, and I ain't payin for that my own damn self!" The bartender spits on the floor. "If you don't like it, hag, get the hell out of my tavern."
Now that he's said something, there's a head sized hole in the roof, and a dozen smaller holes around it, from where he fired earlier.
The bartender looks at Riley, whos' the only one currently conscious. "You heard him buddy, pay up for the damages. I say the damages are 20 gold. It was a short fight this time."
Once the accounts and debts are settled, and the coin purse Cathran carries considerably lighter, she ventures a probing question: "You are very generous to reduce what we owe for the apparent good we have done the...judge. Why has he not smiled lately? A man of his...persuasion...seems like he would find pleasure more easy to come by than the typical dour and serious sorts that usually become judges."
The bartender spits, and looks downright unfriendly again, although he's not looking at Cathran. Finally he shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak.
His daughter cuts him off first though. "That's town business Dah, you know that. Strangers don't need to know about our business." The daughter says, her face set in stone.
The man closes his mouth and shrugs. "True enough. So, you lot needing rooms? The inn is full, this is trade week, got a bunch of people in to buy dried fish. You can stay in the tavern here, sleep on the floor. 10 gold for the lot of ya."
The bartender looked very sad for a second, before his daughter interrupted him
The daughter is actually more upset than the father. And not angry at the strangers for a change.
Cathran glances at the tavern floor, looking extremely displeased at the thought of touching it, let alone sleeping on it. Would it be too rude to opt to sleep outside? I think I would prefer to risk the damp ground rather than the sawdust here...
"Apologies--I did not mean to offend by prying. But town business of yours may relate to our business: we are attempting to track down certain dangerous elements that attacked our own town. Have you seen anything of this sort?" Cathran asks, unfurling the bounty scroll with the sketch of the strangely garbed, tall-hatted necromancer on the bar.
Lineera personally can't stomach the idea of sleeping in the floor and actually paying someone for the honor. "Don't suppose we could pay part of that in work? Wash dishes and the like? I can cook for what it's worth."
Lineera decides that the hushed story is the closest to a lead they have had and little harm done in gently pressing the issue "Don't see any reason for us not to know. If we're good enough to brawl with, seems we should be good enough to hear the local happenings. Don't suppose we could be of any help?"
Mahb grunts, sensing the truth beneath the words.
The bartender takes the opportunity Cathran presents, and looks down at the poster. His face screws up a bit. "That's a weird lookin thing to be sure, but no, nothing like that's been around here. And nothin attacked the town. We just had a couple of kids drown in the swamp last month. The judge's granddaughter was one of 'em. Cutest little moppet you ever saw." He shakes his head. "You tell kids to stay out of the swamp, and they go anyway to pick flowers or catch frogs. Found her face down in a bog, took 3 days of lookin, she got caught in one of the currents, and a gator had chewed on the lass. Everyone took it hard." The man finally shakes his head and shrugs it off.
The waitress stomps out of the room and into the back area, muttering under her breath about nosy outsiders.
Mahb says sympathetically, "It's a tragedy when the young die. I grew up playin' in dangerous woods meself. Were those children likely to be playing in the swamp?"
Lineera nods somberly as well. "At least you managed to find... the body..." Lineera trails off, and stares into the distance for a moment. "Hey Barkeep? What if I were to say that she's not dead, but someone wants you to think that, so the search stops?" Lineera twiddles her thumbs, but decides if Cathran's already produced the picture, there's no harm in full disclosure especially since the barmaid left.
"We're from Perdition's Point, little town up north-west. Two children went missing, we searched the woods for days, never found anything. But eventually, we found a cave with a hidden entrance, inside there were... well, necromancers. We fought them off, killed most of them, but inside we found the two missing children, and two bodies that had been made to look like them through some foul magicks. Searching the cave, we found a letter that suggested that a place they called the Chateau near Illmarsh was their backup location, and that a new ritual is planned to be cast on the solstice." Lineera pauses to let the information sink in, then states. "Please, there may be a chance that the two who went missing are still alive, if there's anything that you can tell us, anything you can do to help us, we may be able to save those children before it's too late."
Cathran's heart sinks twice: once in disappointment at the bartender not having seen their quarry, and again in hearing the fate of the lost children. He sighs and frowns deeply, contemplating the children in Perdition's Point, hovering at the border between life and death in those strange coffins.
She is a little alarmed when Lineera unloads their full mission, but glad to have it out in the open. She had been trying to work up to the same revelation herself, but contemplating the deadly fate and danger they had uncovered of late kept her in a stern-browed and simmering melancholy, unable to communicate as frankly as she would like. Lineera's conviction bolsters her somewhat into speech: "It is true. We seek a foul quarry, and we wish to see it destroyed quickly and ruthlessly."
The bartender's eyes harden at Lineera's words. "I'll tell you right now missy, you go spreading wild rumors about the kids still bein alive, and you turn out wrong, I'll personally skin you alive and drop you in a devil ant mound. And I'll enjoy watching what they do to you. Folks had enough pain around here without you setting up false hope."
The man is coldly furious, and is not lying about his intentions. Despite being fairly friendly, he appears to have no qualms about such a method of execution, nor in taking the law into his own hands.
The man visibly forces himself to calm down, looking as if he wants to leap over the bar and strangle Lineera for a good minute before he can talk again. "You want to go look, fine, you go look, but keep your damn speculations to yourself. I don't need the Judge or my daughter, or Hank Tanner going off the deep end again. Now get the hell out of my tavern, and get the hell out of my town, if you know what's good for you. And keep your damn fool mouths shut. If you wanna go get yourselves killed lookin for dead kids, you go right ahead, take the east road out of town, and into the swamp. Hell, go to the old Necromancer's Tower for all I care. And good riddance." He picks up his weapon, clicks the barrels so that a loaded one is primed and ready to fire, and motions at the door again.
"That tower in the swamp?" Lineera asks coolly as she gathers her things and heads for the door.
"Apologies, sir. We shall leave, then," Cathran says coolly. She, too, gathers her things, and follows Lineera out the door with a hard, steely gaze.
Only once outside does her brow furrow and her nostrils flare in anger. She rubs her aching bruises with a scowl, before quietly grumbling to the group, "Let us find a place to rest, or at least deal with our wounds. Then we can head for that tower. In truth, I cannot say that I am enthusiastic to help this dirty little town, but we need stay here only until we head out to that tower and destroy whatever foul workings are going on there."
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Mahb finishes her soup in no hurry.
Riley gets his stuff together and joins the others. He keeps quiet so he doesn't say something stupid.
The tavernkeeper watches the group trudge out the door, and then he sighs and begins reloading his weapon from a powder horn. He looks back at the old woman, and gives a sardonic grin. "Young idiots, yeah? They'll be lucky if they live to my age, much less yours. You want seconds? No charge."
Mahb picks up her trencher and bird and heads over to the bar to keep the tavernkeep company.
"You want seconds? No charge."
The Hag perks up at the offer and hands over the trencher nodding enthusiastically. She gives as pleasant a smile as she can manage. "I'd consider that a favor. You ever need a poultice, potion, or a bit of magic, you let me know. My name's Mahb, by-the-by."
He looks back at the old woman, and gives a sardonic grin. "Young idiots, yeah? They'll be lucky if they live to my age, much less yours."
Mahb chuckles, and leans in conspiratorially, "Were we ever that young? I doubt it. Consider yourself lucky to have only heard that prattle for an hour. I jes got off a boat they was on. Gods' truth, I was 30 years younger at the start of the trip and it couldn't a lasted more'n a week!"
"Hah! I'd believe it." He gets Mahb another trencher, and then adds another mug of ale. "On the idiots, that one is. I don't think I was ever that young. Sure as hell ain't no more. I'll take ya up on that tincture if you're around when I need one." He finishes reloading the weapon, puts it under the bar, and pours himself an ale. "So, you want a tavern floor or table? Like I told the idiots, ain't no rooms in town 'less you got friends."
The hag digs into the food and drink gratefully. At his question, she shrugs and talks around a mouthful of food, "I spied a barn on my way here. I was thinkin' to bed down there. Your girl is canny but she over-thought the size of my purse." She chuckles good-naturedly. "Your daughter is a sharp one, no mistake there. She must be your pride, eh? I never had no kids, but if I did... well, I'd hope they'd a been sharp-eyed."
The man snorts. "As long as her sharp eyes don't cut me throat before I'm your age." He says, but with some humor. "Barn barn... oh, that's the old storehouse. You can sleep in it if you want, but I don't suggest it unless you get on better with wharf rats than the average person." He scratches his chin. "If you sneak around those idiots, you can head out into the swamp about a half hour, and look for a path off to the south near an old hangman's tree. About half an hour south of there is an old house on stilts. Ol' Agnes used to live out there, before she got 'et by a big frog. Ain't been used in four or five years, but it should keep the rain off ye head."
"If you sneak around those idiots, you can head out into the swamp about a half hour, and look for a path off to the south near an old hangman's tree. About half an hour south of there is an old house on stilts. Ol' Agnes used to live out there, before she got 'et by a big frog. Ain't been used in four or five years, but it should keep the rain off ye head."
"Agnes' house, eh? I'll try there. Thanks..." The hag chews on something awhile before speaking confidentially, "Listen, you're a kind man an' I don't want to stir your temper. As your daughter said, none of us outsiders got no right stickin' our noses in your business but... the kids you lost here grieve me." She looks sorrowful even as she braces for his reaction and presses ahead, "Now those young fools there, I been listenin' to them yammer for awhile an' I always keep an ear to the ground in my travels. There are strange things happenin' in other towns. Kids goin' missing and other foul things. Maybe that's got nothing to do with your losses. But if it does, well, best to know that before things get worse, eh? If you'll let me, maybe I can help... even if it's just keeping those hamfisted young fools from talking too loudly and upsettin' those in mourning. So, is there aught more you recall? Was the second child found? Any strange happenings around town in the last few months?"
The bartender frowns. "Yeah, both kids were found in the swamp. You know what being in the swamp does to a body, but it was them. Didn't nothin unusual happen in the weeks before." He frowns some more, and then shrugs. "Tanyasha left town without telling anyone about 3 weeks after the second child died. She never was what you'd call friendly, but I'd have expected her to at least tell people she was leaving."
Mahb raises a shaggy brow at the information, hands a fish eye to the bird, and strokes his feathers with a gnarled hand, "Pye, find the youngsters and let me know where they are." She sends the raven on its way and turns back to the tavernkeeper. "Tanyasha? What do you reckon 'bout her? She a halfling? Was she here long? Where did she live?" The hag offers an explanation for the fluury of questions, "The kids mentioned there was some letters or such between the bastards they are hunting. If this Tanyasha was one of 'em maybe there's something to be found in her house."
Pyewacket takes to the air and circles the village slowly looking for Mahb's allies.
Pyewacket finds them easily enough, at the eastern edge of town.
The barkeep barks a laugh. "Tanyasha? Halfling? Hah, that's a good one. She was a half-orc by-blow from when we got hit by a raiding party, oh, about 20 years ago."
Mahb chuckles, "Never said I was a seer, did I? Halfling, half-orc... she was half a something, eh? Still, it's strange a woman here for 20 years would pick up and leave one day without a word."
Pyewacket dives on the group and lands with a loud flapping of wings in their path. He ruffles his feathers and croaks at them ominously.