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Olwynn quietly nods his head as the sheriff makes his remark about Mirain. He waits for the others to finish their conversation. Loges luckily asks the dwarf's question and waits for a response before proceeding on his way with his new companions. Olwynn will attempt to walk out of the main crowd sticking to the side of the road walking Mirain as closely as possible
Beromar broods for a bit but when the Sheriff looks straight at him the lean Dwarf grumbles a reply his own command of the common tongue also heavily accentuated.
Was this kid, a human kid. That thug just came right ats him and knock him over the head. Then the kicked stabbed back. I don't want to blood me axe on such a piece o scum so I kicked the Thug in the gut and he was out! No points in blood on streets me thinks sheriff!The boy he searched em. found 5 shiny new gold pieces on em and a piece o paper, like ye put sometin for eatsin in!
Bruin smiled as he entered the Rusty Dragon. He was unfamiliar with the spices wafting in the air, but they made his mouth water all the same.
He bounded up a stool at the bar, noting that they had rungs for smallfolk to climb up. Another point in it's favor, he thought.
"A plate of something hot and steaming - big as my head, if you please - for me and my friend Davy. And a mug from your best barrel."
He slapped a heavy gold coin onto the table.
"And a room, if possible. Otherwise, I'll take a place by the hearth."
The Sheriff looks the three of you (and your ursine companion) over and nods without smiling. "Aren't going to fit you at the White Deer, even if they had room. You're not their crowd. Old Garridan likes to play with the fine folks from Magnimar, more than the rough and tumble crowd that you lot belong with. My best bet for you is the Rusty Dragon down in Low Town."
He goes on to give you directions to the place, telling you the food is probably the best along The Lost Coast, even if the place is a bit run down compared to the Deer.
"Be careful in this town during Festival. Little fingers and eyes are everyplace. Keep a tight hold on your valuables." Satisfied he's given you sufficient wisdom for a day, he shuffles off wordlessly.
Bruin
The Ulfen bartender begins filling a pair of earthenware mugs from a spigot in a keg behind the bar. "I am Lars, at your serveece!" he says smiling keenly. "Dat laty halflinG ist Bethany ant de slow-vitted male ees Morris. Morris ees nice but a leetle slow on uptake, ja? If you need anyting during stay here, just ask staff, they wery helpinG, ja?"
The lady halfling, Bethany, approaches your table. "So nice to see you again Mr Hosk, and youve brought a little person with you this time I see. " She smiles at you. "Would you care for a bath? I can have Morris ready it in no time. Just say the word?" She turns to Davy Hosk, inquiring: "Are you expecting Miss Hannah tonight also? Or is just you?" she and the grizzled veteran chat a bit, but you drift to watching the Tian woman finish her song. She bows deeply, then scurries off the stage lithely to scattered applause.
Finally, Hosk turns back to you and asks:"Sae wee fella, 'ere fer the festival eh? Where'ja wander into Sandpoint from?"
Beromar grumbles some words of gratitude in the direction of the sheriif then looks to the others assembled.
Well myself I'm hungry. Shall we seek out this Rusty Dragon?
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That suits my needs just fine, I should get mirain of the streets as fast as possible. Im glad theres a bar more suited for "our type" not filled with wealthy yuppies anyhow. shaking his head in disgust at the White Deer Inn olwynn will continue down the street sheltering mirain as much as possible. The young bear eyes are darting from side to side as they pass by street vendors pitching sales. Mirain is obviously nervous by her surroundings but there seems to be a childs curiosity present as well.
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Loges frowns a bit at the sheriffs mentioning of more than the rough and tumble crowd that you lot belong with., but he holds his tongue.
Good day to you Sheriff. Enjoy the festivities!
Loges looks to the two dwarves.
I suppose that this Rusty Dragon shall fill our needs.
Let's attempt to find it, then.
[dice=Perception]1d20+4
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20Awwww damnit. Okay, do I accuse him? I bet I can run faster scared than he can mad. Or do I play dumb? Hrm. Play dumb.
Viro grins back.
"Thanks Gressel, nothing like a pint to soothe a head wound. Yes, I've got your investment. And yes, I had trouble. Some brain-moron Shoanti with a bit of pipe tried to bash my skull in. I dealt with him."
You see the man's flick at you, then flick away again, as you play the dumb. He raises his pint, "Well, I am glad you dealt with it, and came back here safely. You have the proceeds we talked about? If you can handle errands like this one, maybe we have a little more work in mind for you."
He toasts you and smiles, quaffing his ale in a long swallow and slamming his empty mug down, while motioning for another.
The two dwarves, the wizard, and the bearling make a strange grouping as they make their way down High Street into Low Town (The name for the part of Sandpoint down the hill and towards the harbor.) They also pass through the churchyard where long tables and pavilions are being set out in anticipation of tomorrow's festival. A dour looking priest in the blue robes of Desna, seems to be directing activity. He has a short clipped beard and dark hair, graying at the temples.
Passing on down the steep hill, the bustling activity has slowed the farther you get from the gate and the church. Here it is more the day-to-day routine of people in the street. Following the Sheriff;s direction, you turn at the smithy, an open air framework with the sign of a red dog on it. Two large red hounds laze in the yard in front of the smith, and they begin to stir and bark as the bear trundles by, but make not threat. From inside, the sound of hammer pounding metal stops, and a string of curses that would make a sailor blush pour out at the dogs, who, heads hung low, return to their place in front of the door.
As you turn the next corner, you run smack into a handcart pushed by an enormous half-orc wearing a red tabard with the town's coat of arms on it. The cart spills over, dumping rubbish and refuse out onto the street.
"ARgh! Watch where yer goin, dwarf scum!" shouts the half-orc, menacingly. "I spent all day cleaning that up, now you get to work putting it back in 'ere." He bends down in the face of Olwynn, spittle flying.
While Viro drains his pint he passes the proceeds under the table.
Well if they sent that guy after me once they're going to send someone more serious a second time. But I am tied to these folks. Maybe go to the Sherriff and bust 'em wide open? Annnd die in my sleep. Hrm. I'll just have to play along and figure things out. Goddamn it I thought these were my people. Well, once a gajo always a gajo.
"Sure, what do you have?"
Petrovski counts out the coins, making a small stack, and slides them over to you. "Here is the agreed upon 10%, there will be more next time. Where are you staying during this festival? It will be tomorrow before I contact you again."
He scoops the rest of the coins into a purse at his side, rolling a few silvers along for Gressel the enormous barkeep.
"I have to talk to my superiors before I can contact you next time." he nods his head in the direction of the private room. "They aren't always too keen on non-Varisians in the life, but maybe they make an exception for a fellow like you."
He downs another drink, slaps you on the back, slides off his stool and quietly slinks back into the backroom.
Viroleth gets the hell out of the Feedbag as quickly as he can. Once outside, he pauses to ensure he isn't being followed.
Alright, I can sit and think, maybe get the head wound checked out, and form a plan for dealing with the Sczarni who obviously do not want me around here. Or I can get drunk.
After considering for a moment, Viro takes off for the Rusty Dragon.
Bruin smiles at Bethany.
"Why, thankee. Yes, a bath would be perfect. But it can wait until after I eat. So, please, no rush."
When Hosk asked him where he was from, he chuckled.
"Well, I guess it depends. I suppose you could say from Magnimar, since that's where I heard about the rededication of the Church. I was considering taking a ship from there to, well, somewhere. I hadn't decided. Anyway, it just seemed like a unique experience. And I imagine Absalom isn't going anywhere anytime soon."
He took a swig of his ale, and then sighed in contentment.
"Oh, that's good."
"I'm from Korvosa originally. But it's been years since I've laid eyes on a proper Hippogriff. But how about you, friend? You from these parts, or just looking to see the sights?"
As the dwarf druid tries to walk around the mess, the half-orc reacts by leaping in front, fists balled. "Son of sand and stone, you will not walk away from Gorvi. You will clean this up, or find yourself on the ground."
He snarls, and Mirain the bear growls back at him sensing danger.
Bruin
"You just let me know dearie, and I'll have Morris get the water started." Bethany bustles off, checking on other customers and bossing poor Morris around something awful. The male halfling says little, no more than is required, and takes orders from the matronly Bethany without complaint.
The door opens, and you see a young Chelish man enter, a bruise on the side of his head. He looks briefly behind him then shuts the door, heaving a great sigh.
Turning his attention back to Davy, Bruin hears him say: "Nae laddie, I'm a local, yeh migh' sae. Bin in these parts fer t'ree decades, moore 'r less. Aboot d'time this toon were made, dae yeh ken? Seen moore'n a thing or two in mae day, lad, an' tha's a fact. Seen Korvosa a'fore, and e'en bean to Absalom maeself oonce long agoo." His finger absently traces the line of scar from his forehead down the side of his cheek to the corner of his mouth as he speaks and a far-away look comes in his grey eyes.
Dinner arrives and it's as delicious as the aroma promised. There is plenty and more to spare, and all you eat is divine. The cold fine ale washes it down nicely as well, and it's all you can do to keep from licking the plates clean.
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Loges glances meaningfully at the 1/2 orc's uniform.
Yes, the Sheriff, did order us off to the Rusty Dragon.
But, I thank you for the offer of employment.
Perhaps, another time.
Loges begins to move along, glancing around to see if there are any street urchins lurking.
Loudly, he says, an entire silver to clean up this mess! What an opportunity!
Loges tosses a silver piece into the mess.
After having taken a moment to wrap up his head, Viro stalks into the Rusty Dragon with a large, but rather woozy smile on his face. At the sound of the door closing behind him he starts, looking over his shoulder with an expression of worry.
Heh. Yes. That's fine. All is good.
Viro pauses to admire the musician for a moment before he makes his way to the bar, hopping onto a stool beside a halfling and a grizzled human. Viro lets out a load groan of relief as he gets off of his feet and spies the friendly bartender, waiting to turn coin into beer.
"What's my pleasure? Well if that fantastic creature singing is uninterested let's start with an ale and a shot of whiskey. Plus a helping of whatever is making that fantastic smell. How does Sandpoint have a bar like this?!"
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Olwynn steps back 5ft and pushing Mirain behind himself. He commands Mirain to 'STAY', dropping the leash the Druid eyes up the Half-Orc. Take the silver half breed and pick up that trash before your mouth gets you in a situation your Arse can't backup pointing his quarterstaff at the trash strewn about the sidewalk.
Bruin smiled at Davy.
"I bet you have a hundred stories. I'm always keen to hear a good yarn."
He then does a double-take on the man sitting next to him.
"Sweet Starsong, you're bleeding!" He quickly stood on top of the bar. "Here, let me take a look at that."
"Gods, did someone hit you on the head with a club or something? Just give me a moment."
He closed his eyes and called on the power of his goddess.
"Lady, Desna, hear my plea. Lend me your healing light."
Bruin frowned. "Well, that didn't do much. It was a right nasty wound. Come see me later tonight, and I'll try again."
Viro's head snaps back as the healing energy washes over him, even if mildly.
"Oh Gods I love this place." He looks at Bruin. "You are a halfling to covet. Thank you, I'll be sure to talk to you about getting my noggin fixed. Care for an ale? A dear friend once told me its best to drink away a concussion and so I'd best get to work."
Beromar is rather suprised by the aggresion coming from the clumsy half orc but likewise can not understand the grumpy Dwarf's uncalled for reaction. Hoping that this little misunderstanding does not get him into another fight Beromar steps back to take a defensive posture.
In the Street
The mention of the sheriff cows the aggressive half-orc. He looks both directions to make sure no one has seen him, and growls under his breath. "I'll be looking for you, master dwarf. You and that little bear, and I'll bring friends. We'll see who is trash then."
He turns his cart upright and begins lading it back with the spilled contents.
Inside the Dragon
The hum of the place picks up as dinnertime comes. With Viro a bit healed from his bump on the noggin, and an ale in front of him, he starts to relax a bit.
The wait staff at the Dragon takes good care of the newcomers. Davy Hosk excuses himself and goes to chat with a dwarf and a well-dressed human man in a corner, leaving our two heroes alone.
They both turn as the door opens and a strange grouping enters. Two dwarves, a bear, and a human youth all enter the Dragon together. As they do, the Tian lady on stage stops her vocal stylings and heads through a curtain to the back.
Bethany, the halfling hostess, whispers to you. "Next my lady will sing for real, she was just fooling around before. Watch and see."
Lars slings earthen mugs for all the newcomers,making them feel welcome.
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Olwynn picks up Mirain's leash nodding at the half-orc's comment. He will continue with the group to the Rusty Dragon. I do apologize for that behavior out there. I don't take kindly to threats, but thank you all the same for helping me resolve the issue. reaching into his pouch he will pull out a silver and hand it to Loges. Once greeted by the staff Olwynn will ask to speak with a manager or proprietor of the establishment in regard to his companion.
"Ho! My erstwhile saviors! Over here! I promised to get you drunk!" Viro shouts over the din of the crowd to the group entering. "And is that a bear? I love it! Can I pet him? What's his name?"
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Loges grins at the 1/2 Orc as they walk away.
He catches the coin from Olwynn.
An unnecessary return, friend Olwynn. Let us consider this for the first round?
As they enter, Loges peers around the tavern with an appreciative nod.
Looks like this is the correct place. There is that besieged fellow there.
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Hmmmm it seems these men are in the business of helping strangers in need, a noble trait indeed The HE you are referring is actually a SHE and her name is Marain, She's a little skiddish with strangers but when she gets tired if your'e still around i imagine she'd be more willing for a couple pats. Olwynn crouches down and begins to stroke Mirain's head as she nuzzles into his leg.
Bruin nods at Hosk.
"Thank you for the help then, Davy. And blessed be the road, wherever it may take you."
When Viroleth begins to shout at the newcomers he frowns.
"Take it easy there, friend. That bump is nasty enough as it is. The last thing you want to do is spin in your chair too quickly and bust your head wide open. Now, hold still. This might sting a bit."
Bruin took some of the alcohol and dabbed a bit of it at the wound to clean it. A trick he'd learned from a Caydenite years ago. Of course they thought alcohol was magical on principal.
And then he saw the bear. Bruin's first instinct was to flee. He was a halfling after all. And what might look harmless enough to the bigfolk, was a different matter entirely to him. Still it mostly seemed to cower behind his owner's legs, so he decided to relax a bit. And the dwarf seemed friendly as well.
"Good afternoon, gents. This fellow a friend of yours? It seems he took a bit of a spill."
Viro stays still as Bruin cleans his head wound. "Alcohol cleans wounds? This is amazing! Thanks - by the way, name's Viro. New in town."
However, he is distracted again by the response from Olwynn and Loges.
"In the interests of not losing my hand, I'll give Marain some space for now. And hello Loges! Thank you again. Let's go to a table."
Viro picks up with his drinks and food and tries to find a decent table for the group.
Beromar enters the bar and despite not liking Longshank places feels oddly at home. It was rumored that the Tieffried Clan had roots in Tian, maybe that was why the odd outlandish music appealed to him, perhaps the fact that the barman looked as if he'd sleighed giants himself made the place more inviting and the nice tone mugs definitely made the Dwarf feel at home.
No alcohol for me! Beromar replies stone faced when talk comes to getting drunk. Water will do. But I do have a bears appetite!
Bruin brought his food and drink over to the table that the men had acquired. He was always up for a new experience.
"The name's Bruin. I'm a priest of Desna, here for the Swallowtail festival. You locals, or here for a visit?"
He took a small piece of his meat and handed it off to the small bear. Better he thought of him as a provider of food then just a meal himself.
Me name's Beromar Copperkettle from the Tieffried Clan. Me not from here. I hear there is giants in the area and I am a giant hunter! So all this rucus about a few bird feathers?
Beromar replies to the Halfling as he has a deep draught from his nice earthen mug.
Bruin took a long draw on his ale.
"Swallowtails are butterflies, actually," he said solemnly.
"To my lady, night should be a time of mystery and wonder, not fear. So during the evening she does battle with evil gods. And during one such battle she faced Lamashtu. She drove her back, but she was wounded. And so she fell to Golarian in the guise of an elf woman."
"A blind girl found her, and nursed her back to health. She was an orphan, alone in the world. And yet when she found Desna bleeding she gave her succor. When Desna recovered, she transformed the little girl into a beautiful Swallowtail Butterfly, so that she could forever fly in the day and night, and witness its splendors."
"So every year in autumn, we release butterflies - the Children of Desna."
Viro cocks an eyebrow at Beromar, but shrugs. "You drink water? Well, nobody's perfect. Anyways I'm Viro and originally from Magnimar. Here looking for work and to take a look at the Festival." Viro knocks back his whiskey as he looks around the table.
"And giant hunting? Why's that? I mean, I suppose you have to hunt something..."
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Loges nods his head at whomever is speaking, as he sips his tea.
Well met, fellow travelers! I've just arrived here and--already--this has been quite a change from school.
He looks to Bruin with his full attention as he tells the story.
He even has reached into his pack--eyes never leaving the story-tellr--
pulling out a journal and ink and quill.
Viro blinks, having not paid real attention to Bruin's story. He shuts up a bit to listen to the end and Loges' response.
"Lovely tale. I've always had a fond place in my heart for Desna. Part of the reason I'm here is I'd been stuck in Magnimar for too long. Wanted to walk under the stars and see the world. I've known a lot of Varisians who particularly revere her."
Bethany the matronly halfling hostess, accosts Olwynn as she brings soup and trenchers to the table. "You will need a place to lodge this animal, I expect? She can't stay in the Inn, but we have a stable in back, and Morris can find a place for her to sleep back there. As long as she's behaved (and housebroken) she can stay in here, but if she gets unruly, you both might be sleeping in the stables." She wags a finger at you, but not in a mean or threatening way.
Davirien Hosk, the grizzled old-timer, returns to the table and finds Bruin in full-company including 2 dwarfs and a chelish rake. "Ah, Maester Broon, it seems yae ha' foun' some new comp'ny after all. It's fer the best as I was aboot tae take mae leave. Mae lady friend is aboot to arrive and I promised her a fine dinner, or as fine as yae cain git at a place like this 'un, ken? It was mae fine pleasure tae meet yeh, an' I dae hoop tae bae seein' yae agin', should yer Desna wish't." He bows a farewell, nodding to the others. You see he meets an elven woman with short brown hair, and graceful bearing. She wears a laurel of flowers, and you see a silver symbol round her neck.
The couple sits familiarly together at a table on the far side of the Inn.
As you eat, drink and converse, the Tien woman, now clad in a form-fitting long, green silk gown, with gold cranes stitched on it, and wearing her long dark hair up in a sapphire pin, comes back onto the stage, carrying an odd stringed instrument. The crowd falls silent for a moment, and the woman begins to play.
The chords are pleasing, if a little foreign, and as she begins singing the woman's voice begins to slowly enchant you. Even though the words are in a foreign tongue, you imagine the pain and joy of the lovers torn apart by their families feud. Lovers who's passions burn for each other, but will never be able to be together. Finally, as the song ends, and the lover's die in each other's embrace, there is not a dry eye in the room.
The woman descends from the stage, stopping by the table of Hosk and his elfen companion first. He motions in your direction and presently the lovely bard, appears at your table.
"I am Ameiko Kaijitsu, owner of the Rusty Dragon, I hope everything is to your liking? My friends tell me your are strangers in Sandpoint. Tell me a story of your adventures, and if it's good enough, the meal is free." She sits, smiling, ready to hear your tale, nuzzling Mirain gently under the table.
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Well tales i haven't got many madam, but i would earnestly like to thank you for the kindness you have shown me with allowing Mirain here to stay with me. This is her first bout out of the wilds and I'm afraid she's a little taken back by it all. Olwynn will wait in silence as the others speak and finally when most convenient for Bethany he will ask for a bath to be drawn and pay the hostess as needed. once ready he will excuse himself and get cleaned up the whole time Mirain waiting patiently by his side.
Beromar takes a bite of his food then at the mention of possibly getting it for free gets all excited and begins crumbling all over the table as he begins to boast.
When I was just a little Dwarfling wit barely a stubble... I killed me first giant. Was a dumb one that one. I lured him in a pit an he broke his leg, criyin like a babe when I bashed his head in!
The Dwarf clearly is very proud of himself as he speaks not overly concerned about the fact that his actions likely weren't very heroic.
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Viro flashes a gleaming smile at Ameiko.
"Ahh madame, it may be the head wound talking but your beauty is more beautiful than the most beautious of beauties - and then some. You want at tale of adventure? Let me see what I can remember of my many notable exploits."
Viro takes a long draught of his ale and waves the empty mug in the vain hope someone refills it.
"In the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, far to the north sat King Torgar on his lonely throne. There, his hall was under great menace from a creature named Rendus, a strange, monstrous beast. Some called it a giant, others a troll. To me, it was simply Rendus - a great hulking brute of fangs, claws, and breath that my dwarven friends here could not match! And it had lived in peace, but the revelry of Torgar's great hall was so raucous that it flew into a rage and attacked the hall. There it devoured many of his warriors as they slept, slaying others before it fled into the night. The only part of the hall untouched was Rendus' throne - protected it was by Gorum himself."
Viro warms up to his audience, and continues speaking.
"There did I stride. Viroleth the Great, Viroleth the Mighty - from a distant land to the far south I came, hearing the need of King Torgar and his people. I told the King that I would slay the beast, and so I kept vigil over the great hall. I brought no weapon, for the beast came unarmed and lo, so should I."
Viro leans forwards, the fires keeping light in the inn flickering in his eyes. His speech is somewhat fevered as he speaks.
"There, the warriors and I keeping vigil did fall asleep. The creature Rendus did come that night, and devoured one of the King's best men! But I - I fair lass was feigning sleep and up I sprung, catching Rendu's hand. The battle rages for hours, so powerful it raged that the denizens of the Worldwound did tremble in fear! King Torgar's warriors came to mine aid, but their blades could not pierce the creature's thick hide. There, at the point of desperation with the beast at my throat, I relied only upon my great strength and RIPPED its arm from its socket!"
His skinny body flailing, Viro mimes ripping out an arm and waving it about.
"And did I give that thing a thrashing! About the head and shoulders I did beat Rendus with his own arm until he fled off into the night! From there, Rendus did flee to die alone in the marshes. For that moment, the great hall was safe, and King Torgar's people could sleep."
Viro takes a small bow and reseats himself.
Bruin clapped at Viro's wild tale. He doubted a single word of it was true. But suddenly that didn't seem to matter. He decided to see if he could top it.
"As for myself, milady, I was born a dragon. I was Flapjaw the Winged Calamity. And I ate my weight in fair maidens every week. And I razed a forest every tenday, whether it needing a good razing or not. I was a very orderly calamity, you see."
"But then, one day, I swallowed whole a princess who was betrothed to a mighty Djinn. And such was his love, that he sought out my victims and granted them their hearts desires - my death."
"My heart suddenly stopped - in mid-razing no less - and I plummeted out of the skies. Now I was dead before I slammed into the ground. But such was the force of the blow, that it jolted me back to life."
"The Djinn was angry that he had failed. So he used his vast wealth to place a bounty on my head, five times the worth of my Hoard, which of course was underground in a cavern half the size of Absalom."
"And so a legion of knights answered the call, determined to end me, including a beautiful Paladin of Shelyn, named Sarashiem The Brave. But where the other knights failed in slaying me through brute force, Sarashiem decided to be clever."
"And so she disguised herself as a princess -- my favorite meal. And she came to my lair, and offered herself as a midday snack. But in the folds of her long tresses she hid a dagger. And when I tried to swallow her she held it along my tongue and threatened to slice me all the way down to my gullet."
"I would have died, if not for her perfume, to which I was allergic. I sneezed her away, and thus escaped death a second time."
"It was then I decided to rethink my life. Certainly being chased by knights, and mad Djinn was no way to spend an eternity. I flew to the highest peak and meditated for a year. And it was then I decided that I must renounce my life as Flapjaw the Winged Calamity."
"And so, I cast a spell of reincarnation. Killing myself, and thus bringing peace to the Djinn, but also coming back as a halfling."
Bruin drank the last of his ale.
"The rest is history," he said solemnly.