"Well, this went well," Raven remarks off-handedly as he walks alongside Felmo. "So... you mentioned drink, preferably wine? Ah, a man that seems to appreciate the finer things in life indeed!"
Felmo shakes his head. "Where I'm taking us, my friend ask for wine and you'll get a vintage vinegar, but the beer is unbelievably good. Best stout in Westcrown."
The halfling leads you only a couple blocks away to a shady basement bar indicated solely by a torch lighting its doorway. "It'll be a tight squeeze for some for you, but I promise it's worth it. "
Felmo draws himself up and opens the door. Inside candles and a round fireplace provide light. A crowd of halflings turns to eye you all sceptically. Felmo shoulders his way forward, "WHAT'S THE MATTER? HAVEN'T YOU SEEN A BUNCH OF SHADOW SLAYERS BEFORE? Dipper, A round for my large friends here. Marius show 'em the body."
Fiosa flinches a bit at the dramatic entrance, but manages a modest smile for the bar's patrons and bows to Felmo's shadowbeast-slaying skills.
Marius dumps the shadowgarms corpse onto the floor. He pulls a small purse from his belt and tosses it onto the bar.."Beer for the house in celebration of our triumph" he says to the barkeep
The crowd erupts into applause, whether at the sight of the dead garm or the prospect of free beer is unclear.
Felmo winks at Marius and whispers, "When I'm done your money won't be needed here."
Soon he has a mug in hand and is telling the tale of a desperate street fight against darkness in which Felmo's companions, are certainly no less magnificent than himself. As soon as the tale is done however, he sags and retreats with a fresh mug to the corner table that has been cleared for the party.
The corpse is poked and prodded. People want to see what a garm is really like.
There's celebratory singing, high reedy voiced singing, but the low ceiling and close quarters give it a power of its own.
Then a fiddle produces a jig and the dancing starts.
Marius' purse is pressed back into his hand.
Zarabeta may sit anywhere she likes. The current inhabitant of the spot make room gladly.
Another round of drinks.
Perception:
Fiosa grimaces at Felmo's elaborate speech and adds, "The grace of Iomedae was with us today, but most importantly we showed the power of the people, working together. We all did our part, although Felmo suffered the most for the cause!"
Fiosa's speech draws another round of cheers, especially for Felmo.
A young male halfling, maybe a dockworker by the cut and rough quality of his clothes, steps diffidently up to Fiosa. He's tall and fair for a halfling and his smile has neither the gaps nor yellow stain coming among the ill-nourished poor. "W ww would you care to d d dance, my lady?
"Of course, I love to dance!" Fiosa gladly replies. First she divests herself of her weapons and gear, of course.
Drink in hand, Raven smiles wholeheartedly at the whole thing, the excitement of the crowd and the singing washing over him. "Ah, is this not fun?" The question is directed at Waifrin as the elf moves to stand -or stoop, as it is- closer to her in order to be heard over the music and the voices. Noticing Fiosa and her admirer, his smile widens, taking a somewhat more mischievous quality.
"And this should be quite interesting indeed," he quips. "Care to wager on whether Fiosa sees this as a mere dance or actually suspects that the young man is rather smitten? Nobody stutters like that when not at least a little bit smitten, you know."
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"It's better than many forms of it," Waifrin agrees. "Oh yes, he's got it bad. I see that so many times," she sighs, then smiles. "I hope she lets him down carefully if she doesn't return his feelings."
Gripping her mug in both hands Waifrin takes a sip and sets it down carefully.
"This is just what I needed. I feared that thing would freeze the heart out of me."
"Of course, I love to dance!" Fiosa gladly replies. First she divests herself of her weapons and gear, of course.
Out to the dance floor. It's really more of a dance serpentine that winds between tables. Lank is an earnest pleasant young fellow. You hardly learn more than his name before his friends are taking advantage of the opportunity to cut in, and then it seems the whole bar wants to dance with their lady hero.
Fiosa dances a few dances, but bows out soon afterwards, pleading that she has a lot of hard work ahead of her.
Fiosa presumes that everyone else would be more comfortable in a human-sized inn, and she thinks that she'd get a better night's sleep elsewhere as well.
"So, did you let him down gently?" The question is spoken in a soft voice, almost a whisper, and it is directed at Fiosa. A little louder he says to the others, "Are we ready to leave this fine establishment in search of beds a little more our size?"
"Well...I didn't say anything to encourage anyone. I don't think. At any rate, I'm sure people understand that we're busy helping the city, right?" Fiosa looks uncertain, wondering whether she was leading anyone on.
(Lance is willing to let Fiosa go, but he's still wondering if he can call on Fiosa in a day or two.)
Fiosa answers Lance: "As you can see, my friends and I are quite busy looking into the problems that are afflicting the city. To be honest, I don't know when we'll be done. I'm sure I'll see you around town, though!"
Felmo is staying the night in the bar. He bids you farewell and drop in any time. He promises not to overexert himself until he;s recovered.
Going home -- 1,2 bad
As you step out of the tavern, you observe that it has gotten darker outside. Apparently the halflings don't have funds to keep their fires burning all night.
The trip home is uneventful. No sign even of the Dottari.
Dawn, Rova 12. Marius has an appointment with a smith.
Waifrin has an appointment Rova 14th.
Anyone else, plans for the next day or two?
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Zarabeta hits her old haunts and sees if she can scare up some work, preferably in the lucrative spellcasting services sector. It has occured to her that her studies into the crafting of magical items will do no good if she's got just over 30 gp to her name (and 26 of it came to Westcrown in her pocket...).
Time to build up some capital.
Fiosa will devote her time nursing Waifrin and Felmo, the heroes of the halfling quarter. She also reports the result of the fight to Arael.
Lorzo Fortuni, a quick, tanned, man, thinner than most smiths, but with remarkably corded forearms revealed by the rolled up sleeves of his white silk shirt, waits in the center of the bare floor.
Fortuni asks about your requirements for the weapons. He asks you to walk, skip, and jump across the room. He asks about your fighting style. Measurements -- length of upper and forearm, of fingers, diameters of same. Assistants pull out dummies for you to attack, while he watches. He asks you to lift a series of weights and goes through the attacks again. Then another series of weights and another series of attacks. Finally, a young man in plate enters and you spar together under Fortuni's watchful eye.
Arael is glad of fight's outcome and the report. He muses on the possiblity of some sort of alliance with the halfling quarter, "after all many of them have far more reason to be unhappy with Thrune's governement..."
Turning serious, she says, "Felmo, if you have a problem of any kind, you know you can always turn to me for help. Those creatures...I've never seen anything like them before. Being swallowed up by one must have been horrible."
"As to that shadow stuff, Felmo is not one to quail at the threat of that. I've been swallowed by worse. There was this devilfish in -- I think it was Korvosa -- ....
Marius returns to the safehouse without incident and without swords. They'll be ready the 14th.
Fiosa will come back and visit Felmo each day until his Strength is restored.
Two days' worth of Lesser Restorations for Waifrin and Felmo: