Malryk slips his token forward and thanks Wynna,”you are very kind M’lady and it will not be forgotten.” He then hands the bandolier and wand to Liamae before taking the dagger and slipping the wayfinder into a pouch, ”any command words that we need to know about, M’Lady? Again, thank you.”
Roger's smile widens. Alright, let's see how much this guy's favor is really worth. "So, how about a trade instead? I have here a token given to me by the Marquis Lambert. It's good for a personal favor from him. How much do you think this would be worth to you?" He produces the token and places it on the counter.
Iagon frowns as he considers. Seems like a good deal, but...I don't know the first thing about such negotiations. I guess the Marquis gave us these for a reason, so...
Iagon Idrantis, Miss Rose. It's nice to meet you. He nods and extends his hand to seal the deal. I tell ya', Rose, I think you can be a good asset for the Marquis. Please don't let me down. I imagine you'll have some papers drawn up or some such, to make it all official? He sets the token of favor down on the table.
The dwarven shopkeeper's inquiry snaps Kytes out of his reverie.
"Oh, I wouldn't even know where to start looking, Sir," the young man responds with a hint of an excited stammer.
"Perhaps you'd have some suggestions? We're helping the Marquis with some work in the Verduran forest."
When Roger lays his token of favor on the counter, Kytes quickly moves to retrieve his. "I have one, too. If it's worth anything to you, I would be happy to trade."
”Oh yes, what was it? Oh yeah, you just wave it around and say ‘Gognogox!’” Wynna pantomimes the gesture. Chub-Chub hides his face with his claws and moans.
As she takes Malryk’s token in hand, Wynna replies, ”Well I wish you both good fortune. You’ll need it.”
As soon as you set the token down, Rose picks it up. ”Oh yes Master Iagon, I’ll have the deal drafted up right away.”
She packs up the satchel for you and makes sure to add the extra tea as she promised.
The shopkeep waves Kyte’s token away, ”Nay, keep yours, son, I only need one.”
The dwarf inspects Roger’s token closely, ”Aye the young Marquis. It bears his mark. I remember the lad. Ran off to the Kitharodian Academy, came back a noble. Enterprising young man. Good connections. Hired my clan to help build his post up in the woods. Aye, that’ll go a long way for you here in Cassomir.”
He puffs on his pipe as he contemplates the offer, ”What’s it worth to me? The Verduran Forest, aye, not chasing hydras then... ”
He goes back to his bureau and begins rummaging through the drawers again, pulling something out here and there. At a point, he stops and stares blankly at the skull which adorns the bureau top. ”Aye, grameema. I’ll give it to them.” He opens one last drawer and removes one last item before laying everything out on the counter.
”Grameema says you must take this,” he holds out a small brooch, masterfully carved out of bone, ”It’s made from her clavicle. Otherwise, you boys can take your pick of everything else.”
Other items include 3 feathers adorned with beads and strips of leather, a finely carved crystalline leaf, a small vial of inky black liquid, and a small vial of bubbling blue liquid.
Iagon nods appreciatively at the haul, then smiles at Rose and shakes her hand once again. I think you, Miss Rose, and I look forward to working with you in the future. He bows politely, then makes his way out of the shop, his pouch now laden with exciting new things.
He looks at the signs above the other stores, then shrugs. I'm sure they'll be along shortly; no need to poke my nose in their business. He then finds a nice portion of wall on which to lean and sets to it, settling in to wait for his new companions.
"Thank you, Wynna. We are very grateful for your aid! Expect to hear good things about us in the future!"
Liamae peers at the potions through her spectacles. She concentrates briefly, and her eyes begin to glow a pale blue.
Liamae turns to her half-orc companion. "Shall we find somewhere to relax and wait for the others to conclude their dealings?"
Kytes gazes reverently at the brooch. Such a personal token was a tremendous gift indeed, even in exchange for a powerful favor. The rookie paladin surmised that for such a possession to find its way to Roger must certainly mean the halfling had a greater destiny in store for him, much like Kytes himself.
Still somewhat uncomfortable with such fine items changing hands, but not wanting to be rude, Kytes turned his attention to the collection of decorated feathers. "I do like these," he stated with a mix of social uncertainty and genuine excitement. He smiles at Eir, resting sleepily on his shoulder: "They remind me of my friend."
"Yeah, they go well with your whole bird motif thingy. Looks good." Roger pauses and gingerly picks up the crystal leaf. "I kind of like this, to be honest." He smiles at the dwarf. "So it's agreed? I really appreciate this, both to you and your grameema."
The dwarf pockets the token from Roger, ”Nice doing business with you.” He adds with a touch of sternness, ”You take care of grameema, you hear, and she’ll take care of you.”
He resumes his whittling as you leave his shop.
There’s still the possibility of a good deal in Abbey Green or the Shipyards.
The further south you go in Cassomir, the more likely your troubles might find you.
Kytes thanks the dwarven shopkeep as he and Roger exit. He carefully tucks the decorated feathers into his belt pouch.
"He was awfully nice, wasn't he Roger? I wasn't really sure what to think about these tokens," the young man muses. "But it seems like the Marquis' favor really does go a long way here. It's a bit intimidating to be working for someone so important."
Eir ruffles her feathers and makes some low chirping sounds.
"Oh, not that I doubt you for a moment," Kytes reassures as he pats Eir on the head. "I know that if you led me here, this is where we need to be."
Iagon nods in greeting as Kytes and Roger come out of the shop. He approaches, and gestures at his new waist pouch.
Hope you guys did as well as I did...I'm not sure what half this stuff does, but Rose's teas alone are worth quite a bit. And, we worked out a deal wherein she'll continue to supply them for us...all in all, I'd say a nice deal for the Marquis.
Liamae steps out of the shop and sees the others outside. "We scored a wand of mage armor and a few potions. I was thinking of hitting up Abbey Green, see what else we might be able to acquire. Any of you are welcome to accompany me, should you desire."
"Hey, nice score! I grabbed myself an ioun torch, just in case. My night vision isn't great. The guy there also gave me and Kytes some nice stuff. Not really sure what they are, but this thing is his grandma's clavicle!" He shows them his new brooch, beaming proudly. "Anyways, Kytes still has his token. I wouldn't mind checking out Abbey Green. Although I should warn you guys, stuff starts to get erm...a bit rough once you start going south from there."
Iagon grins and nods. Sounds like quite the score indeed. Of course, I'll follow your lead; hopefully a group such as ours will not be so likely to be disturbed in the rougher parts - strength in numbers and all that.
Malryk listens to the other’s chatter in silent amusement. He nods consent and tries to remain as anonymous as possible in the “shadows” of the colorful group.
Kytes smiles and voices his agreement, "Eir here's got the eyes of a... well, of a hawk! She'll spot and warn me of any trouble that might come our way. Hopefully, we can find something to spend my token on."
Abbey Green
Abbey Green is quiet although there are more people out and about now that the day is getting along. Compared to Old Cassomir, the buildings are smaller and spread out, the peoples’ dress is simpler. True to its name, there are plenty of green spaces and trees throughout the neighborhood. The sound of songbirds flirting in the trees, boots on the cobblestone, the occasional swish of a shopkeeper sweeping off his doormat, the shouting of kids playing a game of stickball in the street, all weave a gentle tapestry of sound throughout what is otherwise a peaceful day. Every once in a while, the moss and ivy covered remnants of what once was Quickfall Abbey poke above a shingled roof or copse of trees, creating a visual landmark to orient yourself to. The occasional gull flies overhead, and the masts and rigging of the naval clippers in port can be seen in the distance.
You come across a bit of commotion as you first enter the neighborhood. A donkey-drawn wooden cart carrying kegs of beer has lost a wheel and has toppled over in the street. A few kegs have rolled loose and are scattered down the cobblestone. One has cracked open and has become a fountain of foamy brown ale in the middle of the street. A young couple, likely the owners of the cart, are arguing over the situation. Other passersby stand around and oggle the scene.
Several stores line the streets, a few of them stand out from the others.
The Blue Oyster Trading Co.
This narrow building is stuck between a butcher’s shop and a weaver’s guildhouse. The smell of incense wafts out from the wide open door.
Tiny the Tinkerer
This wooden building has been kept in remarkable repair compared to its neighbors.
The Olde Abbey Market
This open air structure is bustling compared to most other places. Colorful baskets and bags lined in front catch your attention, and the smell of fresh baked bread and smoked meats emanating from within is alluring.
Iagon doesn't pause to think, but rushes over to the young couple. He eyes the spurting ale curiously, as if wondering how to salvage such a situation.
Excuse me? Can I help? I'm not sure that the ale can go back in the keg, but maybe there's some that can be saved?
He honestly knew little about the properties of ale in a keg and whether it was still usable after opened in such an uplanned manner. But, Iagon's new charge by the Marquis filled him with a sense of responsibility, tempered with a faints hint of authority. Perhaps completely manufactured within his own mind, this new sense of duty meant to Iagon that he had to help those people that the Marquis would call his own...in some manner, at least.
Kytes is right on Iagon's heels, and as Iagon stops to speak to them the young holy warrior continues past down the lane. "I got 'em!" he calls back to Iagon and the couple.
When he reaches the first keg, he hoists it up and begins carrying it back to the cart.
"Oh, dear! Such a waste of good alcohol," Liamae laments. Her companions seem to be handling the situation, so she heads into the Blue Oyster to peruse its wares.
"It's probably some sort of scam anyways..."Roger mutters to himself before blinking, surprised at his sudden burst of cynicism. He shakes his head and decides to go to Tiny the Tinkerer's, keeping a low profile as he does so.
The assorted smells from the abbey green are almost overwhelming. It takes a second for Malryk to recover from the assault on his senses. While Iagon and Kytes rush to aid the young couple, Malryk moves closer to Liamae and causually says,"Don't forget that we split that last haul." Malryk then follows the elf into the Blue Oyster. He walks a step behind and slips into the persona of servant.
They always ignore the servant....
”The cracked keg is a lost cause,” the young woman snaps to and tells Iagon, ”just like my husband here.” They jump right back into it.
”What? Hey, babe, it’s not my fault! Look! The pin just snapped, see? How is that my fault?”
The bewildered young man looks to Iagon, ”You wanna help? We gotta get these kegs delivered to The Golden Barnacle. The axle pin just snapped, see? You know anything about fixing a broken down dumb old cart?”
”The cart’s not dumb. My dear father built it with his own hands. Maybe if you knew anything about work like a real man, you’d have fixed it yourself by now, and we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”
”Babe, I’ve worked for your father for half my life. That’s how we met!”
By the time Kytes returns with the first rescued keg, the couple are at each other’s throats and completely uncooperative with each other.
There are two loose kegs left, including the broken one, which is now leaking at a much less rapid pace. A stray dog is lapping from the puddle of booze in the street.
It is dark inside and the shelves are crowded with imported junk, foreign crafts, and exotic trinkets. A personal shrine to Abadar is set up in the rear, the source of the incense smoke which hovers in the air. Liamae is quickly approached by a balding man with a stooped posture and few missing teeth. He smiles at her nervously and encourages her to buy something.
”Are you a visitor? Something to bring home from your travels? Look here, I just got in these wonderful clay jars from Belhaim, aren’t they lovely? Or, the lady might be interested in some exquisite bracelets all the way from Faldomont to compliment her pretty dress. Perhaps some candied almonds from Absalom, you know, they’re a delicacy there!”
He uneasily shifts his glance to Malryk only once, and keeps his full solicitous attention on Liamae.
You find inside a workshop cluttered with broken items, tools, and machine parts. A half-giant a few sizes too large for his environment sits stooped over a workbench, massive fingers delicately at work repairing a grandfather clock. He looks up at you through thick lenses which magnify the bulbous blue eyes set in his massive head. ”Hullo, may I help you?” he recites before going right back to work.
Kytes places the retrieved keg down near the cart. The couple arguing made him uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if they were really mad at each other, or just taking out frustrations over the broken conveyance.
Hoping to break the tension, Kytes drops to a crouch to take a look at the cart and see what can be done.
Iagon, completely lacking the more delicate social skills to deal with the disagreement between the couple, clears his throat uncomfortably. Um....I'll go and help with the cart, while you two work this out. He retreats immediately and helps Kytes lift or move whatever he needs to in order to assist with the repair.
Eyeballing Kytes as he returns with the keg and sets to inspecting the cart, the young woman clamors, ”See, Curtis, this is what a real man looks like. See how he’s trying to solve the problem while you stand around deflecting blame? Look at that sword and that armor. I bet you’re a soldier, a crusader aren’t you? And this is your squire…” she motions to Iagon. ”The world can use more men like the two of you.”
Eir screeches his agreement.
”Ugh.” Exasperated, the young man shuffles down the road to fetch the remaining intact keg.
Kytes, your inspection of the cart proves the bickering young man’s assessment is correct. The wagon is of simple design, basically a large wooden box attached to an axle and wheel system. The axle is a wooden post, about 5” in diameter, tapered toward the ends so that the wheels can slide on only so far. There is a hole bored through the axle at each end, where a wooden pin, basically a long peg tapered toward one end to fit tightly within the bored hole, would hold the wheel securely on the axle. However, one of the pins has broken and slipped out, and the wheel has fallen off the axle. Fixing it should be easy enough, first lift the cart to get the wheel back on, then find something that can serve as a new pin or otherwise fasten the wheel, at least temporarily, to the axle somehow. The cart carries 6 kegs, arranged in 2 rows of 3, fastened down with rope. One of the ropes has snapped, which is how the three kegs got loose.
Kytes flushes at the woman's assumption Iagon is his squire. "Oh no, ma'am. Iagon and I are working together. If anything, I hope to learn a lot from him!"
Flustered, the young warrior returns his focus to the cart. "Your husband is right, ma'am. The axle pin snapped. That's not really something most folks carry around with 'em." Kytes smiles sheepishly, "'Less you're a wainwright, of course."
He rummages around in his pack and pulls out his mess kit. He removes a thin wooden spoon from the leather cord -to the eye, it looked to be close enough to the right size- and begins trying to work it into the pinhole.
"If this works, it should get you far enough to make your delivery, ma'am. You'll still need to get it properly repaired later, though."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Iagon appears flustered, but only for a moment, until Kytes graciously disagrees with the woman's assessment. Iagon sees the situation, and also notes that Kytes is quite a bit more robust than he.
Kytes, would you like for me to slip the wheel on while you lift the cart? Or, should I start unloading...I fear if I try to lift that while fully loaded, I'll be restricted to crawling feebly for the beginning of our assignment here.
"Bracelets, you say? Well, I am always interested in acccesorizing!" Liamae says with a smile. "I would love to take a look at any exotic clothes or jewelry you might have, good sir."
Clothes and jewelry???Is she going to buy some fancy Varisian scarf right before we leave for the wilderness?
Malryk clears his throat softly, "M'Lady, perhaps you might you might want to look at something more practical for your upcoming travel? You are favored by the Marquis and of course he wants you to be safe traveling into the woods!", turning to the shopkeeper, "Abadar's blessing on travelers...sir, the Marquis truly hopes we might find such blessing here...some items to keep M'lady and her humble servants safe M'Lady carries a token of the Marquis' favor if you doubt my words."
However you do it, you manage to get the wheel back on its axle. Kytes has to basically fit a spoon shaped peg into a round hole, but with some elbow grease, gets it to hold. It’s a temporary solution for sure.
”Great, just great,” the young maiden continues on, ”Not only are we going to be short on our delivery, but we’re going to have to pay to get this fixed. Let’s just hope it holds till we can make it down the wharf.”
Curtis returns with the other loose keg as well as the broken one by the time you get the cart reassembled and helps to reload the goods.
”I’m sorry for our temperament,” he sighs, mostly defeated at this point, ”Miriam’s father, my father in law, came down with a mysterious illness and…”
”Mysterious, bah! I know the two of you to visited The Siren’s Call on your last trip up here! You think you can hide things from me?”
Curtis turns red and rubs the back of his neck, ”Well, anyways, the cleric back home was able to cure him, but now we’re stuck with the bill. This shipment was supposed to cover the expense, but now we’re still gonna end up short.”
”Yes, yes, anything for the Lady” The shopkeeper hustles about, pulling things from shelves and off racks and begins laying them out on the counter for Liamae to peruse. ”My.. er… latest shipment from overseas got.. uh… caught up in uh… customs it seems. Had some fine silks all the way from Lingshen. A shame I don’t have them for the Lady.” He grins eagerly as sweat beads up on his brow.
When Malryk interjects, the shopkeep’s attention turns suddenly. At mention of the Marquis’ token, he licks his lips and wrings his hands together as he addresses Liamae further, ”I don’t deal in uh… survival gear, but I can tell the Lady has finer tastes.” He motions to the arrangement of jewelry laid out of the counter, ”This comes from all over Western Avistan, even the Five Kings and Kyonin” he says with emphasis, ”They say sometimes the finer things are imbued with…”
The shopkeeper cuts off as just then a pair of tough looking men walk into the store. One stations himself near the exit, his eyes on the two of you. The other slowly walks around the store, randomly picking up items, but his eye is on the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper now is white as a sheet and sweating profusely.
Kytes is confounded for a moment by the couple's plight. Much like the patchwork cart repair, his assistance suddenly felt, at best, like a short-term solution to their problems.
Considering the only real economic power he possessed at the moment, he fishes the wooden token out of his pouch and presents it to Curtis and Miriam: "Would this help?"
Iagon, perhaps naive or too trusting, instantly begins fishing about in his pockets for a few coins to offer the couple. Then, seeing Jader's offering, stops and widens his eyes. He clasps his hands behind his back and watches with interest, wondering what such a boon would mean to a young couple in such a pickle.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Liamae peers at the jewelry with interest, but looks up when the two toughs enter. She sees the silent tension in the shopkeeper and knows these goons are up to no good.
"Hi, boys. I can't help but notice that your presence here is interrupting my shopping experience. I do so love shopping, and I do so hate when something interferes with my ability to do so. My bodyguard here hates it too, and, well, sometimes he takes out his frustration on those around him. Unless you want to experience a half-orc's frustration first hand, I'd suggest you leave this place at once."
Damn! This elf will be the death of me! Last thing I want Is attention and she steps in it...
Malryk glares at the two men trying to aid in Liamae’s bluff.
Roger peers around the store, a bit anxiously. It's getting late, and he knows what happens around the city during the dark. "Heya, how's it going? Just doing a bit of window shopping, thought I'd pop my head in here and see what was for sale. Last night in Cassomir, so I figured why not?"
The two thugs exchange glances. The lead thug tries to read Liamae, then sizes Malryk up. He doesn’t seem impressed with the half-orc, but the presence of a woman above his class and her bodyguard isn’t worth his trouble. He bows deeply and mockingly to Liamae, ”Excuse us yer Lordship fer interruptin’ yer transaction … but we’s got unfinished business with ol’ Petey here.” He smiles menacingly at the shopkeeper, ”Finish up ol’ Petey, we’ll be back fer ya later.”
Ol’ Petey gulps audibly as the two thugs leave the premises. Shaken, he looks wide eyed between the two of you, then speaks to Liamae in a panic, ”You said something about a favor? Listen, Tarik’s gonna have my thumbs if I don’t get my goods out of impound and pay him off! You gotta help me my Lady. Please take what you want, but I need that favor.”
Miriam gasps at the site of the token and quickly covers her mouth. Curtis is wide eyed and speechless, but quickly puts his hand up in denial of Kytes’ overture. ”No we can’t possibly take that. You’ve helped enough already.”
”What!? Curtis, are you mad? Do you know what that’s worth? We can pay off all our debts!”
Curtis looks deeply perplexed by this sudden moral dilemma. He looks Kytes straight in the eye, his eyes beginning to water. ”We’d never be able to repay you…” he begins then looks over the sincerely helpful half-orc. ”You are a holy warrior… tell me, what God shall I thank in my prayers tonight?” he holds out his palm to receive the token.
The very large half-giant looks up from his work again, ”Hmm? You goin’ out in da swamps? Dat’s where I from. Da swamps. Dat’s where Ma and Pa found me. In da swamps. Ma and Pa was little-folk, like you. Ma and Pa weren’t my real ma and pa. Hmm, mebbe yer leavin’ on one a dem big ships. Lotsa folks comin’ and goin’. ”
He grunts and returns to work, adding, ”Nuthin’ fer sale. I just fix stuff. You got sumthin’ needin’ ta be fixed?”
As you snoop around the shop, two things stand out from the piles of scrap and broken junk. One’s a set of very nice tools, the kind of tools you use to open doors not meant to be opened. The other’s a spyglass, in perfect condition.
With a smile, Kytes places the token in Curtis' palm, then closes the man's hand over the token while while clasping in within his own hands.
"It is Iomedae who sends me into the world to do Her work," he says in his usual friendly tone. Eir ruffles her feathers and produces a series of measured chirps, and in response Kytes becomes rather uncharacteristically more serious: "If you would thank Her, do not forget your honor, and do not forget to sacrifice for others when needed and able."
Roger grins broadly. "So you had halfling parents too, huh? They're the best. I would've loved to have a brother like you, that would've been awesome." His eyes wrinkle sadly for a moment. "My dad was a few inches taller than my mom, he'd always be pulling pranks on her-you know, hiding stuff in the taller cabinets and shelves, stuff like that. Would've been real handy having someone tall like you around the place!"
He points to the tools and spyglass. "You say you repair stuff, right? Did you do these? They look brand new! Dang, if I ever need repair services I might have to come back to Cassomir from the swamps to have you do it..."
"Of course! Here you are, good sir. May it serve you well!"
Liamae hands Ol' Petey the favor, then gathers up any gear here that might be worthwhile.
Malryk does not relax until the scent of the two goons fades away. The smell of Ol’Petey’s fear pervades the room clearly indicating that the man had soiled his pants at least partially. Malryk grins as the man says take what you want and begins to look for anything that might be useful.
Liamae scoops up an armful of the jewelry Ol’ Petey laid out on the counter for her.
Malryk, nothing in the store seems especially practical in terms of wilderness survival, but with your quick wit and keen eye you are able to spot and grab the following useful items:
A filter scarf, a courtier’s outfit, a wooden scroll case inlaid with the image of waves in mother of pearl, a billon flask, a vial of rare perfume , a magnifying glass, and a handheld steel mirror.
Ol' Petey is sobbing and clutching the token as you take what you can get.
The half giant sniffles once or twice during Roger’s reminiscing and wipes away a single tear, but says nothing of it.
Then he slowly stands and leans over his work bench, squinting through his thick bottlecap glasses at the items Roger points out. He nearly fills the room as he does so. He scratches his head and sits back down with a thud. ”Hmm, never seen dose b‘fore. Must’ve been Pa. Most’ve dis stuff were his.”
Just as soon as the token is in Curtis’s hand, Miriam slaps the donkey on its rump and the cart starts rolling. ”Thank you strangers!” she calls out behind her.
”Yes, thank you, and you,” Curtis bows awkwardly to the two of you. He takes one step after the cart, then stops and turns. ”There’s an old chapel to Iomedae in the old Abbey over there. We used to play there when we were kids. That is, until little Tommy went missing… Anyways, thank you good sirs, blessings be upon ye!”
He kisses the token and catches up with the departing Miriam.
Kytes, you sense a strong feeling coming from Eir. It’s intense, but nuanced in quality, an admixture of pride, confidence, determination, and encouragement. With a screech, Eir begins flapping his wings and takes flight, circling once to get aloft on the seabreeze before flying off towards the Abbey ruins.