Fort In case this is treated as poison add in another +5
Beromar isn't itched by the Goblin dog and continues to whack it good.
Flurry Damage
Flurry Damage
Die Dog Die - Round 8
As Bruin crashes his mace against the remaining dog, Beromar also hits the beast with a flurry of blows. The combined attacks cause the dog to whine, whimper and collapse in a pile.
End of Combat
As the dark evening finally calms a bit, the heroes, scraped bruised and battered collect themselves near the Northgate of Sandpoint. The quavering nobleman by the ruined guardhouse leaps from his hiding spot as the last foe falls.
"Capital work, fellows! Capital indeed! Too bad poor Brutus died, but what a show! I can't thank you enough for your aid. Perhaps you would join me for dinner this evening as a token of my appreciation, eh? What do you say?"
The man is tall and thin and dandily dressed with silver spats and a walking cane. He is quite sincere and effusive in his thanks, however.
Bruin stares down at his mace, a bit of goblin had settled in a nook of it. He tried to shake it away, but it stubbornly held. Finally with a sigh he scraped it on the goblin shield he had commandeered.
It wasn't as if he was going to keep the smelly thing, once all was said and done.
Bruin then stared listlessly at the nobleman for a moment. Unable to truly comprehend a dinner invitation at the moment.
"Uh, sure. Sounds -- fun," he said, trying to sound more upbeat then he felt.
"I'm sorry about your pet. Are - are you all right? I don't have any magic left, but I have a healer's kit with me. I can dress any wounds you have."
With his face swollen and arm bleeding and likely infected, Viro has had handsomer days. Nonetheless he tries his best smile at the nobleman.
"Dinner? Thounds thpectacular! I uh, may need a moment of rest first. I theem to have developed an allergy to whatever that groth rat-dog was."
Beromar merely shakes his head..
Humans...first thing they think about after a battle won is dinner...
"Wow, Viroleth. That looks nasty."
"I am not particularly hurt, and while the dog was a good hunter, he is not a great loss. I will find another just like him when I return to Magimar." says the dandy nobleman unconcernedly.
"I am so glad you've agreed to dinner with me. We will have a captial time discussing adventuring and swapping stories of the troubles we've seen, what? So dinner tonight at the White Deer Inn; it's settled then." And he walks off whistling a tune, as if this had all be part of a walk in the park.
While the goblin-set fires still smolder across Sandpoint and the grieving and wounded are still being tended to by the acolytes of the Cathedral, the Sheriff and high priest come to tend to you directly. Healing any injuries to full, and removing the allergic reaction from Viroleth.
"It looks like the fighting is at an end. My men are mopping up and have started searching the town for any goblin hold-outs. You did well helping here, your heroes really! I'd like to talk with you some more about what you did and saw here. Say early in the morning?"
He leaves you to your clean-up including looking at the bodies of the fallen goblins. The riding goblin had goblin-quality small-sized studded leather, a horse-chopper, a small shortbow and a handful of arrows. He also carries a small vial that detects as magical.
The warriors that accompanied him also had dog-slicers, leather armor, and shields all of poor goblin make.
I say we toss all this Goblin rubbish!Nuffin good becomes o them dirty green men...
is all Bermoar has to say of the loot they found.
Once Foxglove and the Sheriff have gone, Bruin sighed.
"Again?" Bruin responded to Loges with a chuckle. "You expect goblins to just pop out of the wood work, do you?"
Bruin leaned on a wagon, looking positively exhausted.
"I've been in a few fights in my day, but nothing like - well, this."
He chuckled again before looking a little green.
"I think I - wait. No. No. Yeah. Yeah, I'm going to throw up."
He then pitched over and vomoited.
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One never knows, Bruin. I read that Goblins live to raid and cause chaos.
This may just be a preliminary attack.
Loges grins as Bruin shows him what he had for lunch.
He waves his fingers, speaks a short arcane phrase, and the mess begins to disappear.
School universal; Level bard 0, magus 0, sorcerer/wizard 0
CASTING
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S
EFFECT
Range 10 ft.
Target, Effect, or Area see text
Duration 1 hour
Saving Throw see text; Spell Resistance no
DESCRIPTION
Prestidigitations are minor tricks that novice spellcasters use for practice. Once cast, a prestidigitation spell enables you to perform simple magical effects for 1 hour. The effects are minor and have severe limitations. A prestidigitation can slowly lift 1 pound of material. It can color, clean, or soil items in a 1-foot cube each round. It can chill, warm, or flavor 1 pound of nonliving material. It cannot deal damage or affect the concentration of spellcasters. Prestidigitation can create small objects, but they look crude and artificial. The materials created by a prestidigitation spell are extremely fragile, and they cannot be used as tools, weapons, or spell components. Finally, prestidigitation lacks the power to duplicate any other spell effects. Any actual change to an object (beyond just moving, cleaning, or soiling it) persists only 1 hour.
"Hey! We're heroeth! Thith is the betht thing that'th happened to me thinth coming here. I even thaved some children from a fire!" says Viro happily. "Who thought all those fenthing lethonth would pay off tho well?"
He winces as he looks down at his arm. "I really need a drink or ten right about now."
Pfah killin a few Goblin don't make ye a hero boy... Try wit a few giants. that'll earn ye some respect in the world I says!
"Thanks, Loges. I bet you're handy to have around after a long night in a tavern," Bruin said with a shaky smile.
"I'm pretty sure, I don't want to be a hero. That sounds alarmingly close to responsibility."
"I don't thee any gianth around here, so I'll take what I can get."
Night has descended on Sandpoint, and for now, the chaos has lessened. Fires still wink their orange flames here and there, but the townspeople have gone to bed. The merry Varisians and vendors have packed up their goods leaving the Swallowtail Festival early for safer pastures, many more will be leaving in the morning.
The heroes stand on the churchyard turned battlefield and being to feel the effects of their ordeal once the adrenalin of combat has fled. The wounds and strains, the upset stomachs and nerves, and the hunger from exertion in a life-and-death struggle.
Remembering they agreed to meet the jolly Mr Foxglove for dinner, the companions head to The White Deer, the crowded inn where they were turned away upon entering town the day before.
The Inn is eerily quiet, all guests gone from the common room as they enter. The host, a large Shoanti man with tattoos and braided hair, shows them to the private dining room, where Foxglove awaits.
Standing to either side of the nobles are a pair of man-servants, who wait on their master hand and foot.
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Prior to arriving, Loges tidy's up a bit.
School universal; Level bard 0, magus 0, sorcerer/wizard 0
CASTING
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S
EFFECT
Range 10 ft.
Target, Effect, or Area see text
Duration 1 hour
Saving Throw see text; Spell Resistance no
DESCRIPTION
Prestidigitations are minor tricks that novice spellcasters use for practice. Once cast, a prestidigitation spell enables you to perform simple magical effects for 1 hour. The effects are minor and have severe limitations. A prestidigitation can slowly lift 1 pound of material. It can color, clean, or soil items in a 1-foot cube each round. It can chill, warm, or flavor 1 pound of nonliving material. It cannot deal damage or affect the concentration of spellcasters. Prestidigitation can create small objects, but they look crude and artificial. The materials created by a prestidigitation spell are extremely fragile, and they cannot be used as tools, weapons, or spell components. Finally, prestidigitation lacks the power to duplicate any other spell effects. Any actual change to an object (beyond just moving, cleaning, or soiling it) persists only 1 hour.
Upon entering the White Deer, Loges glances around at the high classness of the place.
I am surprised by the difference in reception this time around.
Although, it was that out-doorsy dwarf that was turned away, I suspect that we would not have faired much better!
He nods to the dandy.
I, Loges Grey, of the Academia of Korvosa, thank you for the invitation.
He walks over to the table to take a seat.
Bruin decided to wear his armor and crossbow to the White Deer. Considering all that had happened that day, he didn't wish to be caught unawares again.
He nearly hadn't shown up, but luckily his stomach had settled. As a proper halfling he knew that one should never dismiss an offered meal.
Besides, he'd never been to the White Deer. And one should always endeavor to experience new things.
Bruin giggled quietly at Loges' social graces. It seemed that the down-to-earth wizard had a genteel side to him.
"Bruin Greenleaf, of the Korvosan Greenleafs," he said.
And he regretted it immediately.
Oh, well. What are the chances anyone knows my family this far west of Korvosa?
Viro spent a good while cleaning and dressing his wound before dressing in his best (which is not that great), combing his hair, and deciding he looks presentable.
He makes his way into the room and smiles pleasantly. The swelling has gone down enough to allow for normal speech. As he speaks, his voice takes on a notably posher accent.
Okay, noble it up. I can do the social graces.
"Viroleth Sastan of the Magnimar Sastans, at your service."
Beromar doesn't like the place but free dinner is free dinner after all. The stout Dwarf makes his way into the private dining room and bows properly.
Me name is Berromar Copperkettle of the Tieffried Clan! he says in introcution already a bit anxious.
Foxglove smiles warmly as you all make your introductions. "My friends, you are all well met, indeed! I am Aldern of House Foxglove, a local family of some repute. I am on business here in fair Sandpoint, but my home is in Magnimar down the coast. I must indeed thank you again for the courtesy of saving my life early today. That goblin attack was just so...irritating, and I lost a good dog as well."
The meal is served - a fine dinner of roast venison stew, potatoes, bread and greens. Simple fare but well prepared, and the wine is poured liberally as well by Foxglove's servants, making you momentarily forget the events of a few hours ago.
Foxglove is quite the proper host, make appropriate comments as he asks you about your adventures and backgrounds. He seems to hang on every word and laughs heartily often.
"I wish I had your lifestyle of looking for advenure, and roaming the open road," he says wistfully. "I can't imagine anyone more heroic than your merry band. About the only adventure I get is on the occaisoinaly boar hunt..." he stops mid-sentence as an idea strikes him. "Say, you all...you would't want to go on a hunt with me, say tomorrow late morning? I have been planning a hunt in the Tickwood, and I am sure Nigel could arrange a few more ponies and spears. It's a captial idea! What say you?"
"I'd be delighted! Get some sun, stab some pigs - wholesome activity, really."
"Traveling's great!" Bruin agreed a bit drunkenly. It had been a while since he had such high quality wine.
"You can go anywhere you want. Do anything you want. Desna be praised, these feet were made for walking," he said and then put up his bare feet on the table for a moment.
He laughed, put his feet down, and then took another sip of wine.
He hiccups and then said quietly, "I swam in a river naked with an elf once. She had purple hair. Like grapes!"
Then he giggled for a bit.
When Aldern invited them boar hunting, he raised his wine glass. "Sounds like fun!"
Bruin stares up at Loges.
"I wish I could grow a beard. You've got a great beard."
A real hunt... should be huntin giants. but Boars is good too. Like the taste of it! Beromar remarks camly. The Dwarf had only held a monologue of 5 minutes about the atrocity that is the giant race and enjoyed the rather lavish meal while others were chitchatting.
"What do you have against giants anyways?" says Viroleth. "I'm happy to work with goblins. They're small and stupid rather than fourteen feet tall and... uh. Are giants stupid? I have no idea."
Giants... me clan has been warrrin wit giants for aeons. Me father was killed by a giant and my mum eaten by one when I was a beardless Dwarfling. Giants got a goblins brain but a giants head is the size of a goblin. Go figure! Beromar grumbles as his mine sours and he pushes away his dish. The Dwarf rises thanks his host with a bow and is off.
Tomorewer fer ye boar hunt! I'll bes around and bring me axe!
Ah well, it's settled then!" shouts Foxglove clapping his hands together. "Capital! Splendid! We shall prepare the mounts and spears and await you at Tanner's Bridge around 10 in the morning. Do you know Tanner's Bridge? On the east side of town, down the hill, near the smelly old tannery. Fastest way to the Tickwood, and the Tickwood is rife with boars they say."
He continues on regaling you with unlikely stories of his hunting exploits as the dinner wears on. Finally, when the evening is done, he stands and bids you adieu.
"Onto the morrow, noble men! We shall brave the Tickwood! Boars beware!" he lifts a final toast and then trots upstairs to his quarters.
You make your way slowly, back to the Rusty Dragon, the town mostly asleep or licking its wounds this late into the night. No sounds of revelry or festivities occur on what otherwise would've been a night of cavorting and fun.
As you enter the Dragon, a thunderous ovation breaks out from the large crowed. "Hail the Heroes of Sandpoint! Huzzah!" and similar cries break out amongst the assembled masses.
Ameiko Kaijitsu, the lovely bard owner of the place, kisses each of you in turn. "You boys have earned a free week in the Dragon with that performance today! Welcome conquering heroes! Eat and drink your fill, it;s on the house!"
And she ascends the stage, playing a lively set of songs on her lute that have the place laughing, clapping, and drinking long into the morning hours.
Wearily, you creep to your beds and await the sunrise, knowing you have an appointment early with Hemlock, the sheriff of Sandpoint.
End, 21 Rova 4707
"TOLD you we were heroes! We humans have much lower standards. On the plus side, people buy you drinks!" Viro cheers Beromar before draining half of the ale in a few swallows. He then gobbles a few steamed dumpling-things Ameiko prepared before wrapping his arm around the closest passer by.
"I LOVE SANDPOINT! Now who wants whiskey?!"
Pfah. Indulge to much today in ye glory and ye be forgotten tomorer. Those that wants to be remembered beyon their time must seek to builds a Laegacy. And no Dwarf or Human I know of has built one of killin a stinkin Goblin... Beromar grumbles as he pushes his way to his rooom bemoaning the festivities as he wants to get his much needed rest.
Bruin drunkenly "dances" the night away.
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Loges laughs, chuckles, falls, spills, laughs and chuckles some more as the night lingers.
Yes, Mr. Floxglove. Tomrrow's exploits will be recorded for antiquity!
As they enter the Rusty Dragon--amid cheers and clapping--Loges politely grins, as he then heroically spills his dinner into a vase.
With a face to make an 1/2 Orc mother proud, Loges slowly makes his way to his room!
Morning, 22 Rova 4707
The aches and pains from the goblin combat are secondary to the spliting headaches of hangover as you are wakened early from your comfortable beds by the halfling hostess, Bethany.
"The Sheriff is on his way," she scolds, forcing you to get up and get presentable-ish. "He sent word ahead. Now get up you rapscallions! Breakfast is on the table and getting cold. Up and face the new day, by Abadar!"
She rousts you enough to bring all of you to the common room just before the Sheriff strides in. Indeed, breakfast is laid out with eggs and sausages and toast and best of all, hot coffee.
The Sheriff sits and helps himself to a small empire of sausages before he speaks.
"I half-expected you lot to slink out of town in the night like the rest of the festival goers. Couldn't blame ya, with the goblin attacks and all. Perhaps yer made of sterner stuff than I reckoned."
"I sent word to our local Ranger, Shalelu Andosana this morning. She's a bit of a goblin expert, usually out protecting the environs around Sandpoint from trouble. If anyone knows what's stirring up them goblins it's her."
"Funny thing that. There's been goblins in these parts for years, since the town was founded even, but they've never gotten up and attacked the village before. Maybe way-lay a caravan on the road, or burn a farm, but never an full-force attack on our town. Something had them stirred up, sure enough. What's more, we found these on several different goblins."
He drops a few small items onto the table. Looking closely, you see a dead and dried frog, a bird egg, a string of teeth, a strange symbol painted in blood-red pigment, and a moss-covered pinecone.
"Several of each of these kind of items were recovered from goblin killed in the attack. We think they are some kind of tribal totem, but don't know much else about them."
"We do have two goblins, captured alive, in holding cells down at the City Watch. Can't get either of them to say two words to us, but maybe they know something? Maybe you "Heroes" want to go see what you can do?" He sort of sneers the word, but you can tell he respects your prowess and your bravery coming to the town's aid yesterday.
"'fore that, though. I'd ask yeh to join me on over to the Cathedral. Seems the sextant found one of the crypts broken into this morning. Wasnt' disturbed yesterday, yeh ken, just found today. Maybe one of the goblins broke in, or maybe one's still inside. Not sure, but I'm headed to the Boneyard now to check it out. Want to join me?"
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Loges stumbles out of bed. He locks his door as he hears all the commotion in the hall. Reaching into his pack, Loges retrieves his spellbook to study for the next hour.
When he sits down at the table, Loges politely nods to all seated.
He listens politely to the Sheriff's tirade.
Perhaps, I may have an understanding of the situation?
Beromar stands stern faced before the Sheriff. He finds himself liking this human, perhaps the Shoanti weren't all dumb mindless brutes decended from giants as he had learned during boyhood. While investigating this riddle might get in the way with their boar hunting Beromar quite frankly couldn't care less.
Bruin awoke at the crack of dawn feeling a bit groggy and hung over.
And yet he also felt envigorated. He'd very rarely used his powers to help so many people. Yes, he did healing. But this was different.
He did his morning prayers and felt his goddess' pleasure keenly as a vibrating hum that ran through his being. A solitary tear ran down his cheek, and he sniffled for a moment.
He'd barely had time to compose himself before Bethany ran in telling him about the Sheriff.
He gathered his gear and made his way downstairs.