Larken pauses from his power-eating. This whole thing is starting to make him feel uncomfortable, and the foreign language commentary is starting to give him an inkling of what's really going on here.
He weighs his discomfort against the obvious advantages of having a noble "patron"... and just can't get over the shudders.
"Oh," he answers airily, "we mostly traveled the smaller towns. Now if you find pigs and cows interesting, well, I've seen a lot of pigs and cows."
He pauses to take the last bite of fish from his plate and chew it contemplatively.
"Well, as my lovely elven companion has said, we're supposed to be watching over the town, and alas, I drew the short straw and have night duty. dinner was just smashing, and I hope the rest of you enjoy dessert."
He stands to leave and offers his hand to Lord Foxglove.
"Thank you for yor hospitality. Duty, alas, is a cruel mustress."
"Oh," says Foxglove, looking put out and somewhat offended, "Er, well, thank you all for coming. Just a token of my esteem and to thank you all. I find I have lost my appetite. My man will show you out." With that he dabs his mouth, tosses his napkin down and stalks out of the room in an obvious huff, not bothering to shake Larken's hand.
Foxglove's manservant shows the party out to the common room in the Hagfish.
I spy with my little eye....(rolled a 7) nothing.
Vethran raises his brows at the rapid departure of Larken, but smirks as it would appear the young man had caught on to Aldern's advances. He rises to leave with the rest of them, indicating the sign hanging over the hagfish's tank to his cousin with a slightly disgusted look on his face as they exit.
Alwyn follows Vethran's gesture and spots the sign. "I saw you in there; you think I'm completely nuts, don't you?", he asks Vethran with a grin.
"Actually, you might be right - perhaps I am crazy", he continues with a self-effacing shrug. "I doubt I can convince you otherwise. But even I am not insane enough to drink hagfish slime. Man, who would do anything like that?"
"Brother, what does the sign say? I can't read too good."
"Um, it is a competition of sorts. If you put a piece of silver in that can over there, you get to drink hagfish slime. If you can keep it down, you win whatever money that is in the can. If you puke it back up, the money stays in the can. Suckers. What kind of maniac would pay to drink hagfish sl..."
Alwyn turns to Hudak with a look of both alarm and disgust. "Hagfish are amongst the most vile creatures of the sea! Please tell me that you have no plans to try this."
I'll dooooooooo iiiiiiiiiiiiit!
Hudak drops the coin in the kitty and swigs away.
fort save (if required) 14roll +6 =20
Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!!! Heh-hee!! Go Hudak!
For those who speak giant-
"I... ah... um... I really..." Alwyn shakes his head in bewilderment and disgust. Before leaving the tavern, he snags Elisile. "This has been a most peculiar day. That nobleman was not particularly helpful and also rather, um, strange and now", he nods towards the slime-guzzling Hudak, "we get this. Mark my words - this will not end well."
"However, we might as well get something useful done today. I'm getting my sword and then heading for the beach underneath the ruined lighthouse. I can't quite shake the feeling that something fishy is going on there. Want to tag along?"
The Hagfish owner, Jargie Quinn, comes over as the dwarf and Shoanti prepare to drink. "OK, he says, since we don't normally get simultaneous drinking attempts, if you both fail to puke we'll split the kitty between you. Drink away!" The patrons laugh and cheer as the foul, slimy water is glugged down.
Quinn shakes his head as he offers Hudak the kitty. "Not many can take Norah's tank water and stay upright. You are a better man than I!" The patrons all cheer Hudak to the rafters, which helps drown out the loud liquid gurglings his stomach is making.
70 g.p. in the pot....HUGGA HUGGA!!!
Congrats, boyyo! Ye managed ta down a glass o' slimey, disgusting, oozing sludge o' fish slime wit oot barfin'! Ye do be lookin' a wee bit green in de gills though....
The mage simply watches the display of iron-gutted testosterone with a pale-faced look of utter horror and disgust. It isn't until the cheering has died completely down that Vethran is able to close his jaw and shake his entire body free of the queasy shivers that run down his spine. He exits hastily and follows the others back to the Rusty Dragon.
Aaah, Korm! That was vulgar! Vulgar, vulgar, vulgar! I'm scared theat if I spew, there won't be anything left but bones!
Elisile silently shrugs at Foxglove’s response to her words, and returns to her meal. It seems indeed that the man is interested only in Larken, for what purpose she cannot tell – at least until her sharp ears pick up Vethran and Illes’ whispered Varisian conversation. Ah. That makes more sense … well, if the boy is willing, there is nothing wrong with it, except that Foxglove’s advances seem rather uncomfortable public.
Except, by Larken’s response he is patently not willing. Well then, Foxglove will certainly not have him by force or guile, not while she can still wield a blade … although given the boy’s performance in a fight, he would not likely need her protection.
At Larken’s abrupt departure the strange dinner is over, and Elisile finds herself in quiet conversation with Alwyn by the hagfish tank.
“Fishy?” she asks, flicking a sideways glance at Hudak, and then removing herself several paces from the man. Despite Dravite urgently yelling at him in Dwarven (she thinks) not to drink the foul water, the man seems determined to do so. “If by that you mean slimy and foul of odour … perhaps. But while I am not adverse to walking the town by light of moon, I am not sure what we will see by starlight that cannot be seen by sun. Anything to be seen shall be hidden, and to spy it so should we. If we can catch Larken, he might walk with us. The boy is stealthier than you or I.”
She looks past the cheering patrons (as Hudak quaffs the foul brew), but cannot see the boy. Perhaps he is outside already. Making sure to give Hudak and his gurgling stomach a wide berth, she heads towards the door, meeting Vethran on the way.
"Um, yes... 'Fishy' might not have been the best choice of metaphors, considering Hudak's current antics. You know, sometimes I catch myself thinking he is far too tough for his own good. However, my point was merely that if there are secret passageways or tunnels connected to the tower, I would think they would be down by the sea. What I'd like to do is to poke around a bit and see if there are any signs of digging down there as well. And I agree - we should bring along Larken, if he wants to come. I think he sped off towards the Dragon - he was probably rather unsettled by the attentions of his lordship. Can't say I blame him, either; he was a weird one."
"I have no objection to seeing what can be seen," says Elisile. "Let us return to the Rusty Dragon first though."
The party returns to the Rusty Dragon. As it is still relatively early, only a few regulars are about. Ameiko cannot be seen, and Bethana, the halfling maid, approaches with a worried look.
"Begging your pardon.... I found this in Ameiko's room this morning, shortly after she went out." She hands over a crumpled note, covered in strange squiggly hieroglyphs. "It's a note," she says rather obviously, "In Ameiko's home language. She taught me a little, let me try and translate it." She clears her throat.
"Hello, sister!
"I hope this letter finds you well, and with some free time on your hands, because we’ve got something of a problem. It’s to do with father.
Seems that he might have had something to do with Sandpoint’s recent troubles with the goblins, and I didn’t want to bring the matter to the
authorities because we both know he’d just weasel his way out of it. You’ve got some pull here in town, though.
"If you can meet me at the Glassworks tonight, maybe we can figure out how to make sure he faces the punishment he deserves. Knock twice and then three times more and then once more at the delivery entrance and I’ll let you in.
"In any case, I don’t have to impress upon you the delicate nature of this request. If news got out, you know these local rubes would assume that you and I were in on the whole thing too, don’t you? They’ve got no honor at all around these parts. I still don’t understand how you can stand to stay here. Anyway, don’t tell anyone about this. There are other complications as well, ones I’d rather talk to you in person about tonight. Don’t be late.
"Tsuto"
Bethana puts the note down. "See, I'm worried Tsuto is up to mischief." She glances round to check if anyone is listening. "See, Tsuto is a half-elf, but neither Mrs Kaijitsu or Mr Kaijitsu are elves." She nods in a 'you hear what I'm saying?' way.
"Mr Kaijitsu was furious with his wife - it was the talk of the town for months. He had Tsuto sent away to school and no one was allowed to visit him, though Ameiko used to sneak over there to keep him company a few times a month. Anyway, they had a big row about six years ago, I don't know what about, and Tsuto hit Ameiko. That's when she went off adventuring for a year.
"She came back for her mother's funeral after she fell off the cliffs near their home. Tsuto said pretty openly he reckoned his dad had chucked her off, and there was a big fight where Mr Kaijitsu nearly broke Tsuto jaw with his cane. Tsuto went off, vowing revenge, and we never saw him again. Ameiko tried to find him, but couldn't.
"I'm worried," says Bethana, wringing her hands. "This is the first time Ameiko hasn't shown up to start dinner, and she has left no word. I think Tsuto might be up to no good. Could you go and look over the Glassworks for me?"
Elisile quirks an eyebrow at the mention of this Tsuto’s heritage. Yes, unfortunately breeding with humans usually led to problems. She felt sorry for the lad, but was hardly surprised that with his mixed heritage he had issues. His mother should have taken more precautions in her dalliance.
Ameiko Kaijitsu was talented, attractive and cultured – Elisile did not think that she deserved anything bad to happen to her, and this situation did not sound good.
“I will help,” she says, looking down at the maid and then around at her companions. She supposes that they will help too, but did not wish to speak for them. She had brought her blade, bow and component pouch with her to dinner (who knew when goblins might attack? Though that may have helped explain some of Foxglove’s coldness), so she is ready to move.
“Where are the Glassworks?”
"Just across town, on Glass Street. Big building, you can't miss it."
Vethran nodded along with Bethana's reading of the note. After Elisile's question, he lazily turned his head in the direction of the exit door and raised an eyebrow towards his cousin. Finally, he cast his gaze over the other assembled members of their group and sighed. "Alright. Let's check out this glassworks then."
"Wow. Looks like me and Ameiko have somethung in common--our parents both swooned over some beautiful elven creature thus cocking up our lives. No offense, Elsie--it's a human problem.....a flaw of our forging...
I have to...uh...take care of some business out back, get the load down some, and then let's go."
"Certainly. ma'am. Just let me strap on my steel skin first, as this sounds potentially messy."
I bin wantin' fer to check oot the Glassworks anywho. Heared dey be runnin' a fair ta great shop dere. Ye gots Dravite on de case!
Hudak staggers back in from the facilities, halfwise stumbling but trying to stand proud, to keep a grim Shoanti mask on his geschict.
"Aye. I will be as a bull in the glassworks."
You arrive at the Glassworks after a short walk. It is an imposing stone building with a tall brick chimney at one end, from which belches smoke, even at this hour. There are a number of glass windows on the exterior (as might be expected) but the curtains across these are drawn, though the rumble of the furnace inside is clearly audible. There appear to be two entrances - one clearly marked "Visitors" and another, unmarked and presumably for deliveries.
(Tactics?)
Well, wanna kick in the front door, or somebody sneak in the delivery door?
Vethran simply shrugged at Hudak's questioning. "Both entrances are just as likely to be watched. With that furnace rumbling around inside, I don't think listening for voices at the doors will be fruitful either. Perhaps it's best to have a couple of people stand at the delivery door and another group enter through the front. That way, if they attempt to flee from the other exit, they'll be blocked."
Vethran shrugged again and quickly reached into his pouch for a tough scrap of leather, intoning a spell onto himself. "Well... whatever the choice is, I'm ready."
Well, we be visitin' so lets jus' go trough dat door dere. *Pulls out the vicious hook stapped across his back* Let's be fer hopin' nobody be actin' bad in dere or we may be needin' ta "correct" dem. Hehe.
Arright, let's go.
*brapp!*
Alwyn pulls out his greatsword. "Anyone desiring Gorum's blessing? One weapon only, I'm afraid."
Don't waste it on me. I don't know if I'm going to be standing long this fight. (gnnnnnng!)
"Erm... right then. Elisile, Illes, would the two of you like to join me in watching the back door in case someone tries to make a break for it?"
"Hmm..." mutters Larken, "Is splitting up the party a good plan at this point?"
He tries to remember from his reconnoiter of the town if he's been on the roof of this building, and if so, if there's a place up there where he might have a reasonable vatage point for seeing anyone bolting from the other exit while still being able to communicate that information to the group.
Vethran slants his head in Larken's direction. "Splitting up? It's only a hundred feet or so. Unless the building is literally filled with ravenous, shrieking goblins who boil forth, I think we should be fine long enough to regroup. Go through the front door if you like. I'll watch the exit."
To Hudak at the inn: “It is pronounced Elisile – and there is no offence taken.”
In response to Vethran and Larken’s conversation: “Are any of you familiar with the interior layout of the building? It may make all the difference as to whether a split group will be able to quickly meet up within. If the reasoning is to stop a potential escape from the visitor entrance – I presume we will enter through the delivery entrance as per the note – this could perhaps be achieved in another fashion. Do we have any means to block, jam or lock the door from without? Whatever we decide, we should do it in haste.”
"It is not a bad idea to cover the rear entrance. We'll let you know soon enough if anything is happening here. However, if or when you come running back, try to block the back door first. That'll give any enemies in here an unpleasant surprise."
"We could knock... perhaps... No?"
"Perhaps not."
"There are two possibilities. Either the father is league with the tiny devils and the brother is honest. In which case the back door is the safer path. Else, the brother, or at best the note, are the real trap and the were after Ameiko. That be true, and we may find some sign of a strugle at the back door."
"Either way leads us to the back path."
"And remember, move swiftly, and surround any enemy, so we can bring them down and get to the heart of the matter."
"I like the way you think. How about this: We bar the front door, then everyone goes in through the back. A door marked 'deliveries' should have more room to maneouver than the visitors' entry - after all, they'll be carting big things in and out. And, we need that room, as we are quite numerous."
"Fine, fine. Bar the front door, we'll all pour in through the delivery entrance. I'll be sure to make anyone who tries to flee the scene regret their tactical decision," Vethran smirks. "Let's get on with it."
I could be standin' to rip sumfin up in Gorum's great name if'n ye be wantin' someone ta be takin' on de job o' Gorum's Blessing. So I wouldnae mind to be having 'is blessin' on me hook.