After helping his companions pull the Levetons out of the fire, Zander collaspes on the grass, his eyes stinging from the smoke and his vision a blur. As the world moves in slow motion around him, a yellowish blob from above takes form into his new ally Taisper and he hears the man's words. Looking around he sees the fire still raging about the compound, Verik administering to the wounded, and Berrin taking up buckets of water to fight the flames. Knowing he is of no use as a doctor, Zander stands up and joins in the bucket brigade.
Oleg coughs and gasps suddenly, fighting for life. He slumps down, unconscious but alive.
The next few minutes are chaotic as they douse the flames as best they can. The house is somewhat saved, although the front rooms have heavy fire and smoke damage. The walls are sturdy and survive the fire more or less intact, though heavily scorched.
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Rubbing his eyes and resolving to blame his tears upon the smoke Verik staggers to his feet and calls for help to get Oleg and Svetlana to beds in the guest house.
"Not the most auspicious of starts." He says sadly looking around at the still smoking fort. "But on the bright side I think we will all be highly motivated in tracking down the rest of these vermin and giving them their just desserts."
When it's clear the flames are controlled and dying, Taisper pauses to look around. After taking in Verik's assessment, he walks over and puts his arm around his cousin's shoulders, squeezing him. Grinning ear to ear he lets out a shout. "'RAH! Hey, we did it everybody! Not bad for a bunch of strangers in their pajamas, huh?"
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Verik grins sheepishly at Taisper, and then looks down at himself wearing only a pair of blue undershorts. Letting out a strangled yelp he races into the guest house, and vaults under his bed covers frantically tugging on clothes as if he can undo his previous state of undress by correcting it swiftly.
Taisper smiles as Verik takes off running to the guest house. Then he looks at Zander. Taisper points at his own face, then at Zander. He looks at him questioningly, mouthing the words "Your mask?"
Looking down at himself at Taispars quib Berrin laughs heartily as he sees his ows state. Bootless in a twice-torn shirt, covered from head to toe in ash-mixed dirt and sweat he could only imagine how dishelved he looked.
Wiping the grime from his forehead as he sees the last of the flames doused Berrin pants heavily after the last minutes frantic work. Looking up he sees the sun's postition, frowning he can hardly believe that it is still early morning. Woken up by shouts and breaking glass, driven from their beds by fire, threatend and stabed at, they had successfully driven back the bandits attack and put out the flame.
Looking at the house Berrin feels a pang of regrett for the Levetons. Their home had just been burnt too the ground and they had both nearly perished in the flames. Berrin goes over to them and places his hand reasuringly on Svetlanas shoulder. Looking down at Oleg he is glad to see him breathing. "He'll be fine, I'm sure. Somthing about that cleric.. I believe you can trust him, he'll make sure your allright."
Zander feels the realization that he has been without his mask this entire time hit him like a brick. A cold sweat begins pouring down the back of his neck and he clumsily backs away from the main group towards his resting place the previous night on the south wall.
'Maybe no one else noticed? There was a lot going on... I've got to get out of here... This is bad... This is going to be bad...
Taisper sees Zander backing away and tries to distract everybody by asking what's on his mind, anyway. "So...Jemini. What now, Captain? We obviously can't leave them like this, they need to recover. Should we fortify this area and plan to stay? What's next?"
Tandlara pants and wipes at her forehead. She looks around to smile, before seeing all of the grim faces and the collapsed Levetons.
If I hadn't withdrawn from the world, I might have been stronger. I could have torn those men for this world with gesture. This is what my elven blood cost me, this is what my melancholy personally cost these people. This is why I need humans, I need to stay in the world.
Anyone watching Tandlara sees a incredible look of determination come across her face.
Perception:
Even with Taispar's sudden distraction, Tandlara feels a strange urge, and looks up to see Zander trying to head for the south wall. She pauses for a moment, before paddin after him, in her soot stained and and slightly reddened bare feet, she stops at the corner of the guest house, keeping a respectful distance from Zander, but she looks straight at him, taking in his horrifying countenance.
'You are one of the most hurt people I have ever seen, I will not lie, just as I won't flinch away. If the mask was burned I'll help you make another, you can use spare cloth I have with me to create a cover before we go back to the others.'
She moves a little closer, her voice becoming as gentle as her footsteps, and her face takes on a cast of incredible sadness.
'It's okay to want the mask back, just trust me when I say. The most important part of you is untouched. You braved the flame to safe people you haven't known a day. Inside your temporary shell and beyond your kind eyes lies a good man, Zander. And trust me, I have known and seen all of the kinds and shapes that mankind takes. You are among the best of them. Hide your face, if you must. But don't ever hide who you are.'
In a rare turn, Tandlara smiles gently, and it reaches her eyes, though century old sadness brings tears to them.
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Shortly after Verik emerges now wearing his breastplate, he retrieves his morningstar and shield studiously avoiding making eye contact with anyone and announces,
"I'll tend to oleg and Svetlana for a while, then I'm going to take a bash at making some repairs. Does anyone, um, know their way around a hammer? This place is going to be important if we are to get anything done out here I think." Heading back into the guest house he stops and adds, "If anyone's still injured dome and see me and I'll fix you up."
"Yup. Over here. I got a couple of slashes, they sting a bit so if you could sooth them I'd be gratefull."
Amidst ash-kissed skin Jemini's eyes sparkle with energy and her voice is buoyed by a serene contentedness. Her prayer of thanks softly swells over the trading post: "Sarenrae, your grace has carried us this day. Even in the face of the terror and destruction, your guiding will and protecting hand have saved us all. For this I thank you."
Seeing Verik reappear in a more clothed state, Jemini smiles inwardly. The rotund little man moves with purpose and vigor - when not unduly distracted by temptations and demands of the flesh.
She makes her own way to the barrel of water; seeking out a smaller wash basin to fill and splash out and clean the worst of the fire from her face. Afterward she returns to the guest house, grinning over to Verik: "Not to undermine your authority as a healer - but I am guessing you will be uncomfortable if I change in your presence. Do you want to give me a moment?" She doesn't really wait for a reply, but begins changing swiftly, donning something a bit fresher and fastening her armor over the course of a few minutes.
Thinking he has escaped when he ducks behind the guesthouse, Zander is startled to see the elf woman come around the corner behind him, her lithe feet making no sound as they walk across the dew-coated grass.
As she speaks to him, a tremble flows through his spine, and as she steps towards him he stumbles backwards, bumping into the wall. Never having been spoken to in this way before, certainly not by a woman, the old elf's words equally terrify and move him. Seeing the sadness come to her eyes, Zander feels he should go to her and wipe away her tears, but an old voice in his head keeps him still.
Sharing the elf's sad gaze, Zander finds tears streaming down his own face and opens his mouth as if to speak, feeling as if all his heart were on the tip of his tongue, but can only bring himself to say, "I... I thank you My Lady. But I can only dream that the rest of the world could share your eyes. I fear that our companions may not be as accepting as yourself..."
Turning to face the wall and looking up at the blackened scars the fire had scorched into the thick wooden palisade, Zander smiles softly to himself and wipes his face with his sleeve, turning back to Tandlara. Meeting her gaze once again, he continues, "But I'll endure. Don't let my burden wet your cheeks any further, I'll meet you back with the others."
His words exhausted, Zander turns away again and climbs up the wall to retreive his mask and reconvene with the others at the center of the fort.
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The young priest nods and moves over to Berrin chanting as he does so and infusing his hand with the warm golden glow of healing magic. "Happy to, you fought well, wish I could say the same for myself. But the Abbott says these things take time, and this was my first real fight since... Since I've had any weapons training. Brave or crazy of you to run forward on your own, I'm never sure how to differentiate the two myself - probably brave because you survived, crazy if you had died maybe?"
He lays his hand upon Berrin's wrist and the golden light flows forth lapping at the big man's wounds and seeming to eat away at them. The magic is not quite enough so Verik concentrates and channel's more energy to dissolve away the last cuts and scrapes.
Verik looks up and grins sheepishly at Jemini as she enters, "Ah yes, sorry, I know I can be a bit... Well you know, stuffy and all that, its just well... I'm not really used to, um, well, women to tell the truth. Not that I haven't... I mean to say that I have, but not that, well some of that, but only..." Feeling the blush begin to spread his smile begins to take on a sickly edge and his eyes dart in panic.
"Um, leaving? Leaving! Yes an excellent idea, decorum and all that. Ah, give me a shout if anything happens I'll be right outside!" He manages leaping to his feet and hurrying out, carefully keeping his blazing cheeks facing away from the paladin.
One outside he heads for the unburnt bench and sits pulling his legs up beneath him and closing his eyes.
Dear Abadar,
My apologies for being late with my prayers this morning, but events dictated my tardiness as you are no doubt aware. I have a great deal to tell you, and many questions.
Taisper and myself have stumbled upon new companions, by your providence? Probably, I'll give you credit anyway. A beautiful woman, very eloquent, flowery prayer, follower of Sarenrae, a trifle melodramatic. A burly probable criminal type who could probably do with our guidance - probably more from me than Taisper, you know I love him Lord but two Taisper's would try the patience of a Saint, there's only so much relentless cheer a man can take without throttling someone. An elven girl, I should say woman I'm probably centuries her junior - it must be very odd to be an elf - who is very... Ah, bold, she will be quite challenging I believe. She would be very pretty if she would take a trip to a tailor, fetishes are not my idea of appropriate attire... Then there is this fellow Zander, wears a mask, I think he's disfigured, he's a heck of a shot and seems withdrawn, though I sense he's a good man.
Anyway, so last time I was telling you about my feet, and how armor is almost less fun to travel in than Taisper is to travel with. "Oh look on the brightside Verik, your feet might hurt but at least we are seeing the world!" Pah! Smiley git. Where was I? Ah yes, so we met these others who also have charters...
Tandlara shares a small smile with the charred man, before returning to the others, leaving just as queitly as she came, she stops just at the edge of the group gathered at the guesthouse, hanging back in the shadows a little until she can return to her trademark bemused calm. She takes Riddleskin out of his pouch and places him on her shoulders, where he watches the others with watery eyes.
Dawn rises over what remains of Oleg's Trading Post. In the hours between the attack and dawn, the expedition does its best to clean and do a passable job of fixing the burnt out fort. The back of the main house might be salvageable, but the front is certainly not. The walls of the former fort are intact, though the planks in the burned areas will need to be replaced.
Oleg sleeps fairly comfortably in the guest house. He wakes up every so often with a coughing fit, but quickly returns to sleep after. He breathed quite a bit of smoke, but his efforts likely saved Svetlana from the same fate. She dotes on him, sitting at his bedside with a wet rag. She quietly murmurs comforting words to him as she dabs his forehead.
The members of the expedition move the five bodies into the fort to decide what to do with them. On the bodies and outside the fort, they remove and pile the bandits' equipment.
- 4x short sword
- 4x longbow
- 85 arrows
- 1x masterwork composite longbow (+2)
- 1x masterwork longsword
- 5x silver amulet with an imprint of a stag
- 4x leather armor
- 1x studded leather armor
- 2x alchemist's fire
- 10 days worth of trail rations
At some point during the night Jemini watches over Oleg alongside Svetlana, to offer encouragement and solace. "I am relieved to see Verik was able to breathe some life into your husband. Hopefully he'll shake the last of it in a few days." She looks on as Svetlana gently caresses Oleg's sleeping form; spending onto another hour conversing quietly with her about Svetlana and her husband's history here at Oleg's, their dreams and ambitions.
Tandlara retires early, and sleeps heavily for eight hours in a bedroll in the least damaged end of the stable, not willing to interrupt the Leveton's, or be woken by people checking Oleg's health, she checks on her horse Avansatra before she rests, trying to calm the wide-eyed animal.
Handle Animal:
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Once it is clear he can do little more and that Svetlana can care for her husband Verik leaves them and heads out to help with the repairs. He is hardly an adept craftsman, but he is organized and something of a perfectionist, so his efforts while on the slow side are generally solid.
He also finds some chalk and a board and takes a careful inventory of the bandits equipment; jotting down approximate values for each item and resolving to see if Oleg is interested in purchasing any of them once he is recovered from his ordeal.
As things begin to look better and it becomes clear they will need new materials to achieve more Verik sets off to deal with the bodies. He stares at the corpses for some minutes feeling his stomach churn as he considers how fragile life truly is and how he participated in ending the lives of these men.
Finally he drags the unsalvagable planks from Oleg's home into a pile and make a pyre onto which he places the bodies.
"May Abadar judge you with mercy, but fairness, and help you see the error of your ways. May your souls go onto grow beyond what you had sunken to in this life." He intones simply, "Anyone have a flint to light this?"
A vivid dream plagues Jemini's sleep. Fires. Fires now and then. People. Changing people. Young ones. Adults. Screams. Logs collapsing heavily. Tandlara shouts, the little girl should move! Verik and Taisper trapped and Oleg and Svetlana rescuing them. Berrin dances a jig on the fireplace. Zander burns, burns burns and as he does the scars on his face dissipate.
Looking over the pile of loot from the bandits Berrin picks up the bandit leaders sword and gives it an appraising swing, testing it's balance and edge. Looking to Jemini he hands it to her, hilt first. "Your kill, your prize." he says in all seriousness, the memory of the avenging angel still fresh in his mind.
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Seeing Berrin claiming the studded leather and divining his reasoning Verik takes the cleanest set of leather armors for himself. He sniffs it and winces, deciding that it needs boiling before he's prepared to wear it. Having had no training with the salvaged weapons he leaves them to people less likely to injure themselves in their operation.
He resolves to stay in the hated breastplate while working just in case there is another sneak attack, and finds himself hoping for one just so his suffering is not in vain after a while.
The weight of the sword feels well placed, much like her father's sword. Jemini considers then exclaims, "Thank you Berrin, this blade has seen some ill - but Iomedae will want it redeemed, much as Sarenrae wishes to redeem the souls of men." She carried the sword off to clean and oil it.
When she returns she has a slightly puzzled look as she examines the five amulets. "These must relate to the Stag Lord. Does anybody know more?"
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Verik looks askance at Jemini, "I thought you worshiped Sarenrae, are you, um, allowed to double up on deities?" He asks his cheeks turning faintly pink. "I mean not to say you can't I'm just... Surprised."
"Ah, anyway, the stag amulets? I assume they are just to signify loaylty to this Stag Lord they spoke of. If we can get hold of bandits in more controlled conditions we can question them about it." he frowns, "They might well come back for this place, or at least scout out what befell their comrades. Didn't Svetlana say something about their leader being a woman? Probably prudent to post some sentries."
Berrin scoffs at Verik's assessment of Berrin's bravery, "Supidity more like it. My old drill-sergent would have me in the brig for not staying in line." he muses as his wounds knit over. Grimancing he streches and feels the wounds, nodding in appreciation at Verik. "Thank you. Thats perfect. The wounds are healed but the scars will remain for lasses to admire when I take my shirt off." he says with a wink at the pudgy, sorry, compact cleric. "Fighting is somthing everyone gets better at with time and practice. Stay alive long enough and you'll get the hang of it."
Cleaning himself in the water barrel he does his best to rise out his shirt as well. Donning the studded leather of the bandit leader, the only one big enough to fit Berrin comfortably, he finds his pack and fishes out a sewing needle and siting himself on the benches outside he brings out some string and sets to patching it up. Prikling himself several times during the prosess
Jemini looks seriously at the devout cleric, "Are we not subject to all the gods?" Then she grins, "Sorry, I'm just imitating one of my instructors. Old Orkam." She proceeds to explain, "My mother felt strongly about my education - she spared little expenses to have a variety of instructors from near and far educate me. They'd usually stay a year or so, before being replaced by a new ones. It is not surprising that several tried to instill on me the values of their respective favored deities. Over time I've adopted several of them into my daily routine - asking for blessing and offering gratitude as seems appropriate. I admit that I have not had many thoughts on Abadar, but do subject to Sarenrae, Iomedae and Irori. Though I rarely find opportunity to call on Irori - his aspect teaches self-sufficiency after all - but I do strive to improve myself."
Jemini looks seriously at the devout cleric, "Are we not subject to all the gods?" Then she grins, "Sorry, I'm just imitating one of my instructors. Old Orkam." She proceeds to explain, "My mother felt strongly about my education - she spared little expenses to have a variety of instructors from near and far educate me. They'd usually stay a year or so, before being replaced by a new ones. It is not surprising that several tried to instill on me the values of their respective favored deities. Over time I've adopted several of them into my daily routine - asking for blessing and offering gratitude as seems appropriate. I admit that I have not had many thoughts on Abadar, but do subject to Sarenrae, Iomedae and Irori. Though I rarely find opportunity to call on Irori - his aspect teaches self-sufficiency after all - but I do strive to improve myself." She does not seem to think her actions strange, to all appearances.
Taisper, taking a break from helping with clean-up and repairs, is dubiously eyeing the amulets in Jemini's hand. He nods. "In my heart there is only the Keeper. But the Master of Masters is a good teacher. While I cannot give him any of my faith, he certainly has my attention. Self-reliance and independence are good qualities for someone with my, um, career arc." A frown passes over Taisper's face, gone as quickly as it arrives. "Maybe these amulets could get us into a secret fort or something? And we could disguise ourselves and infiltrate their band to learn more?"
He pulls his shirt up over his head like a hood, taking one of the amulets and holding it mystically in front of himself and intoning spookily. "I serve the dra--I mean, Stag Lord! I am here to attend secret ceremonies! I am not a spy!"
"Bwahahaha. You little knacker! You crack me up! heh.. I am not a spy! heh hehe..."
"But seriously. We should hang on to them, theres probbaly a bounty on them and the Stag as well. Could be worth some gold." All the talk of religeon has Berrin listening half-heartedly, a simple soul he ofcoursed hoped for divine intervention but he couldn't, for the life of him, manage the conviction these people seemed to have. "So your a palidin eh? And you, a cleric. That makes you what? An inquisitor? I guess the gods are with us on this deal then. Just as good, we'll need all the help we can get if this morning is any indication."
'Or they could be soul jars, or hag's eyes? Watching us, crude sharps jaws slavering over our souls.' She looks thoughtful for a second.
'Probably just sigils though,' she concludes with a faint smile.
She has spent nearly an hour with her rat before joining the others, seemingly just talking to it in the gloom of the stables.
Now however she seems eager to help the effort and conversation.
'I have prepared a spell that will make minor repairs, over time I should be able to repair every that wasn't destroyed by the fire.'
Taisper pulls his shirt back down and grins goofily at Berrin. "Tandlara's probably right," he says, "but just in case..."
Taisper takes the other four amulets from Jemini and sets them on a table. He shoots Tandlara a brief, worried look. "...'slavering...?'" He then grips his golden key and focuses on the pile of silver amulets, his eyes glowing faintly in sync with the key.
"Keeper
I am your eyes
May the seventh vault open
and reveal what secrets
these items possess"
Taisper focuses on the amulets, which appear dull and mundane with the arcane sight. They are non-magical, simple sigils with a meaning only known to those who wear it.
Taisper dismisses the spell, the golden aura fading from his person. "Well, whatever they are, they're not magical in any way."
After staying up late into the night working on the repairs, Zander allowed himself the comfort of sleeping in a bit. Having resumed his place on the wall he made a point to keep his bow at ready lest another attack came in the night.
Once he arises he strides into the central area of the post where his companions are congregated. Catching Tandlara's eye as she slips away to the stables, he gives her a nod of greeting and a hidden smile.
Seeing Berrin and Jemini standing near the weapon pile Zander joins them and grabs up the bandit leader's longbow, thinking to himself, 'A finely crafted piece of work... Most likely stolen... No matter, I'll put it to good use.'
Drawing an arrow, Zander takes aim at the crossbeam above the gate, testing the new bow's weight as he fires of a shot.
The arrow falls low and hits into the upper part of the gate. Zander grimaces. 'Hmm... This higher tension in the string will take some getting used to.'
Nocking a second arrow and aiming carefully, feeling his muscles tense as he pulls back the bowstring and holds it for a moment before firing, lets another arrow fly.
The second shot flies true and Zander looks on with surprise seeing that the arrow had actually pierced through the wooden beam, its point sticking out the far side. 'I could get used to this...' Zander thinks to himself with a smile.
As Taisper works on various fix-it projects around the fort, he mulls over the day's events, including his recent conversation with Jemini. "The Master of Masters would advocate physical power and purity over further material encumbrance." He says quietly to himself. Taisper has always found it easier to think if he's talking at the same time, a habit that never fails to drive Verik straight up the wall. "But the Inquisitor's Code values pragmatism in service of the mission, especially as aids Survival and Completion, AND the Master would value working with what you have to get the most out of it." His face lights up. "Well that settles it, then."
On his next break, Taisper goes over to the pile of salvaged bandit equipment. Fishing out a suit of leather armor that will fit him, he recoils at its horrid smell. "Whoa! This is like a sewer. Pee-yew. Verik was right, I'm gonna boil this before I wear it. Yeesh."
On his way back to the shed to get water, Taisper notices the pyre Verik constructed earlier. Walking up to the charred remains, he grasps his key and completes his duty as an Inquisitor. Standing tall, his golden eyes shining, he intones a curse in flawless Celestial:
"Xelelqeln
I vusselct yrellel luohl yu zuo
Yray I rajel Motwelt al ocfunyrz
Saz zuo qhavel yrels
Ic yrel 23nt jaohy
Lelahelt ic ciwry
Buneljeln yu lvnelas
Buneljeln ic qaic
Buneljeln ic yrel tanx
Bun yrelin ynaclwnellliucl"
Nodding with satisfaction and smiling to himself at a job well done, he goes back in pursuit of something to make this armor smell maybe at least as good as it did back when it was just dead animal hide, instead of the horrid yeasty vinegary smell of which it is now possessed.
Keeper
I commend these souls to you
That I have Judged as unworthy
May you place them
In the 23rd vault
Sealed in night
Forever to scream
Forever in pain
Forever in the dark
For their transgressions
Pleased with his new prize, Zander strides back towards to party. Eager to keep the conversation businesslike, he says to anyone who will listen, "The bandits' tracks are still fresh. If we want to finish them off before they are on guard, we should trace them sooner than later."
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Verik frowns in consideration of Zander's words, but eventually nods. "That makes a lot of sense Zander, we ought to strike before they begin to suspect something has happened to their comrades, and follow those tracks while they are fresh. If we wait longer we might miss a retaliatory force coming for the Tradepost, and leave Oleg and Svetlana undefended."
From behind the storage shed Taisper yells "Hey Verik! How'd you get your leather armor to smell like rosewater like that? Mine still smells like a foot!"
There are splashing noises, then "Peuagh! Gross!"
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"Err, I wasn't aware I had." Verik says looking off to the side where he has dumped the foul smelling armor. "You got water on the boil? Stick mine in to would you cousin, maybe Oleg has some soap... I'll check with Svetlana." He moves over to Taisper and dumps his leather armor into the water - assuming Taisper does not object - patting his cousin on the shoulder appreciatively as he hurries off to the guest house.
"Sorry to bother you Svetlana", he whispers, moving in and resting a gentle hand upon Oleg's temple as he quickly ensures nothing is amiss with the patient. "But do you happen to have any soap? I'll pay of course."
Svetlana looks up from Oleg's side. "You saved our lives, Verik. You brought Oleg back. I'm not going to charge you for soup! Just wait with him, I'll get you some." Svetlana runs off to the kitchen to prepare him something.
Passing the others in the courtyard, she asks them, "Does anyone want anything to eat? I'll make something. I can't thank you enough for saving our lives. I don't know why the bandits decided to attack us. Until last night, they were content to come rough us up a little and take our money."
Taisper smiles as Verik brings his stinky armor over, too. The smile quickly turns into an expression of disgust as he gets a whiff of it. "Ack! Plechh! Okay you're right, yours smells like a foot, too. Like a foot someone burned down in a dung pile. Hrmf. I smelled rosewater somewhere. Maybe it was Tandlara's doing, or maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part."
He adds Verik's armor, too, then yells out to the camp in general; "Hey, I'm washing armor over here if anyone else needs something scrubbed..." His voice trails off. "In fact, why don't I just wash all of it?"
Taisper walks over to the pile of smelly leather and dumps it all in his erstwhile washing contraption, waiting for soap to arrive.
"Perhaps they somehow heard word of our coming?" Zander suggests.
Taisper's tummy growls, but after a short breeze wafts the smell of his laundry into his face again, it then rolls over and plays dead. "Gosh, breakfast would be amazing, Svetlana, but you don't have to. I mean, you've gotta still be feeling kinda rough. Plus I'm not sure I can eat too soon after dealing with this armor."
Hearing Zander's suggestion, Taisper nods in agreeance. "There are signs and postings up all over the land, if what Berrin said is true, so it certainly seems they could have known, or guessed."
Glancing around suspiciously at his companions and grasping his longbow tightly, Zander finishes Taisper's statement, "...or been tipped off."
Svetlana looks at the armor and raises an eyebrow. "You're going to need some soap for that. There's some in one of those boxes right there. It isn't one of our best sellers in these parts."
Taisper, satisfied for the moment that the laundry is properly simmering now that it has soap in the mix, steps around the corner to peer wide-eyed at Zander. "...t-tipped off? But...but why? Who? I mean, do you really think that, Zander?"
"From what I have been given to understand, there are extensive bandit forces around these parts. Tracking these to their base of operations should be feasible - but all valor aside - I do not think we are ready to take on a dozens of these criminals. Providence was with us on our first encounter, but we should not take the kindness of the gods lightly."