The day of the meeting comes around and Jessamy finds Shalelu awaiting her at their usual training spot in the woods outside Sandpoint. The elven woman grins at Jessamy's presence but quickly becomes all business.
"Since you're not my apprentice anymore I shouldn't be spending anymore time training you", she says. "But you earned this one a while ago. You just weren't ready until now", the elven bounty hunter explains.
"The key to bringing down any prey is understanding their weakness", Shalelu explains while tracing a finger across Jessamy's collar. "Some hide it better than others but everyone has a weakness..."
***
Over the course of the next few hours, Shalelu goes over several drills involving what to look for and knowing when to strike. When it's done, Jessamy is tired and sore but that's normal for a training session with the bounty hunter and she finishes feeling like she's reached some important new understanding about combat. The pair finish the session with a shared drink from Shalelu's skin of wine.
"I really do wish you the best Jessamy", she says with smile and a nod.
Ventus makes small talk where appropriate and tries to get to know the academics a little but very rapidly ends up drunk in a corner, letting the conversations wash over him. Eventually, he decides to get himself to bed before he manages to make a fool of himself and Mr. Quink. Mustering what grace he can manage at this juncture he affects a relatively sober walk out to the yard where Beaks reclines next to a hedge. Beaks, long since familiar with the smell of alcohol on her master, gives a disapproving little chirp and gently nudges him with her beak.
As the days turns to weeks Eli is able to sneak more and more time into studying the strange necromantic fungus. Initial testing confirms that it is alive and at some level... aware? It seems to grow under Eli's care and soon what started as a tiny sample, no more than a couple inches across is nearly a foot.
Eli's able to determine a couple things from his time with the patch of fungus. A) Even if it's aware, it doesn't seem to be intelligent. No attempts to communicate with it are successful in any capacity. B) Its regenerative properties are persistent and it's quite resilient, enduring even the harshest heat without any damage.
Eli's confident that with proper time and research he can apply the fungus's properties in one of two ways.
One morning, after a particularly grueling training exercise in the yard, Pirknok and Ventus get a message from the Red Dog Smithy's master blacksmith - Das Korvut. It seems the smithy's ill tempered master has business requiring the duo's attention. There's a note about bringing 'that blasted pigeon' along as well - probably Beaks.
Eli is very pleased to see the library set up, and on the day of the opening he hires a carriage to take he and Marysin out to the Manor. He presents one of his own tomes on Alchemy to the library and speaks with any of the scholars he meets.
During his spare time he studies the fungus, and then after the library opens visits with Brodert, getting into deep conversations with him about Thassilonian history.
Pirknok appears for the opening festivities dressed in clean Shoanti clothing with his polished armor over the top. At Brodert's offer, his eyes widen and he looks around at all the books as if seeing them for the first time. Afterward, he mingles for a period and then approaches Brodert when the scholar isn't busy with anyone else. He lowers his voice. "Ah... ah dunno if... wull... ah wanna know more. Ah wanna lern books. Ah wanna... ah wanna know all uhbout people, an'... thuh spirits..."
The dwarf chuckles softly at the reference to Ventus' companion, but his face suddenly straightens as he catches Beaks looking at him.
Bringing one hand up to his mouth, he coughs convincingly. "C'mon, we shud go find out wut he needs."
Without waiting to find out whether he's been discovered, he heads toward the blacksmith's shop.
Jessamy's eyes widen as she realizes how she can use Shalelu's last lesson. "Thanks!" she exclaims, embracing the elven woman and giving her a quick kiss. "This will be so useful!"
At the library, Jessamy finally finds some books that interest her, tales from all over the world of great heroes through history.
Ventus does not bother to take Beaks' reins as he and Pirknok make their way to the smithy. The hippogriff follows the pair closely, aware that she would get a scolding if she ventured to far from Ventus.
"Oversized pigeon? Really?" He mutters to himself as they walk. Beaks is obviously oblivious to it all.
Pirknok and Ventus arrive at the Red Dog Smithy to find Das Korvut already hard at work. The big blacksmith exits to meet with the pair after using a rag to wipe down the generous sweat and collected grime from a morning at the forge. He greets the visitors with his trademark sneer.
"Thanks for coming", he says in a rare moment of civility. "I may not have thought much of you lot before but you've done quite a bit of good for Sandpoint, more than any man should ever be asked to do. I'd like to help you out in the only way I know how", he says with a nod back at his smithy.
"I recently came into a few ingots of enchanted metal - elven steel. I wanna make you two some proper armor", he explains.
As Das waits for a response his eyes settle on Pirknok's sword.
"Is that real skyiron?" he says with disbelief. "Boy, gimme that blade. Do you know the first thing about maintainin' a skyiron weapon?"
Pirknok's eyes widen as the smith speaks. Elven steel... is he joking? I've only ever heard rumors of it!
He clutches his sword reflexively at the other's tone, but nods after a moment and hands the blade over. "Ah... bin cleanin' it real good. There more ah shud be doin'?"
Das shakes his head, "Cleaning's not enough. You gotta keep it oiled just like any other blade. Unlike common steel, you need real heavy oils for skyiron or it gets pitted and brittle."
Das departs into his smithy and returns a moment later with a small jug.
"This is whale oil. That'll do ya for a time", he says offering the container to Pirknok.
"So you boys interested? Come inside and I'll get ya measured."
The Shoanti nods his head in thanks. As he follows Das into the smithy, he asks, "You... yer serious, arncha? Ya really do got sum elvin steel..."
He looks around as if not quite able to believe it. "Ah ain't got much gold... ah dunno if ah kin pay wut it's wurth. Ah kin werk fer ya in mah off time...?"
Ventus nods and joins the Das in the forge.
"So what makes this Elven steel so special?" He asked. Apart from maintaining his gear, Ventus did not know much about smithing and metals. Ventus braced himself, awaiting the snark or snap the man's reputation said was inevitable.
Das looks at Ventus as if he's a child that's used foul language.
"Boy, are you daft? It's elven steel - lighter than a feather and twice as strong. Get in here and shut your trap so I can get your measurements."
After several minutes of measuring and half-mumbled self-notations, Das goes to work drawing up some sketches.
He shows them to Ventus and Pirknok, satisfied with the results.
”What do ya think’s more your style?”
Pirknok's eyes widen in appreciation and he points to the sketch on the left. "Thet wun's real nice-lookin..."
"You telling me that you can make me a breastplate that will store Beaks inside of it?" Ventus asked, incredulous of this claim.
"You're on."
"If I've got this magic steel thing down, yeah", Das answers.
"Listen, I'll leave the heroin' to you. You leave armor smithin' to me."
***
Pirknok's schedule fills rapidly, until he's practically swallowed by activities. His mornings are occupied with drilling the guards and practicing on his own, after which he washes thoroughly in the ocean and hurries to get lunch. A few days a week there's an afternoon walk out to the grand library for lessons, and on the other days, Pirknok spends his time either visiting with Rodrick, Sarah, and Jonathan, or contemplating something learned in his tutoring sessions.
Sometimes he disappears into the area around Sandpoint for hours, simply wandering as he ponders the spirits and the happenings of the past few months.
Eli returns to his shop, spending time working on his craft and building up his business. He also starts spending more leisure time with Marysin, taking her out to the theatre or for walks along the cliffs. Their relationship deepens as Eli's guilt starts to diminish, as Marysin grows healthier.
Jessamy enjoys her time in Sandpoint, relaxing at the tavern and making occasional trips to the new library to find new tales of adventure. We should've made it a Pathfinder lodge. I bet I could have made Venture Captain.
Soon, though, she begins to feel she's not doing enough. A hero, after all, isn't a hero if she's not being heroic. Remembering the Pixie's Kitten's concerns about Sczarni, she approaches the brothel. Eyes wide at the sights there, she approaches the owner to see if there's anything she can do to help.
Just two weeks ago you, within your campfire, you saw a series of images confusing in purpose but crystal clear.
-A man-made structure where great fallen trees are ground to pieces-
-A ruined tower filled with rusted clockwork-
-A patch of flesh scorched by the sun and bearing elaborate tattoos-
The images make little sense but there's one element you do recognize - the tattoos. It's the same patterns used by the Shoanti Quah that raised you so long ago. So your travels took you to the southwestern corner of Varisian through Shoanti lands and into the city of Sandpoint. You've been through Sandpoint before, it's a city like any other, but something is unmistakably wrong...
It's been almost two months now since the heroes of Sandpoint vanquished the evil haunting Foxglove manor and brought an end to the killer that was stalking Sandpoint's streets. Word arrives from Magnimar's magistrate that a 'Brotherhood of the Beast' - a cult of Rovagug worshipers - was rounded up and put to the sword. And so, for a time, things are good. Sandpoint is safe from threats external and within and its people happy.
Returning from the grand cathedral to see Ysme performing her new full-time job officiating weddings, the party passes through one of Sandpoint's many busy squares. It's a warm summer day and the people are out in force traveling and shopping from assorted street vendors.
The square is already busy but becomes a jostling mess once the party enters. A few Sandpointers shout greetings at the heroes, each one louder than the next. A few approach to shake their hands or pat them on the back.
Suddenly all hell breaks loose as a ring of towering flames spring up in the middle of crowd. Most of those caught in the flames are instantly incinerated – their bodies turned to ash in the blink of an eye. Others simply fall to the ground in a smoldering heap. The once busy square is suddenly dominated by screams of terror and pain as the panicking Sandpointers break to walls of deadly flames.
Two men in the crowd, dress in nondescript robes, shed their clothing to reveal elaborate mechanical wings. Others, pull silvery blades and advance on the party through the fleeing crowd.
"Raid!" Ventus shouted, drawing his weapons. Violence, in broad daylight. The day was already shaping up to be messy. Two weird ones from what he could see. He whistles to Beaks as he moves.
A man becomes visible through the crowd. He removes his robe as the other assassins have done revealing a strange mask with a hooked top. He laughs and gestures at the party surrounded in flames.
"You've interfered in things beyond your understanding long enough. Prepare to die heroes!"
Pirknok sighs. "Moar crazies, ah gess..." he mutters. Then, more loudly, he asks, "An' who're you? Sumwun who unnerstans better, ah spose?"
Ha, I even used the new word Brodert taught me...
Gritting her teeth, Jessamy dives through the flaming wall toward the nearest attacker. Her eyes tearing up from the heat, she pulls her swords, slashing at the man.
"Ha! Heroes don't die!" she screams back, her voice hoarse from the heat and smoke.
Passing through the flames, the heroic Jessamy is burned.
Her blade jostles the wing-bearing man but bounces harmlessly off of his previously unseen mail shirt.
One of the assassins charges after the Varisian girl while the other enters the fire to swipe at Ventus. He appears to be unfazed by the flames.
The men with the mechanical wings take to the air and pull steaming vials from under their coats. After a brisk shake they hurl them down into the ring of flames.
"Ow!" cries Jessamy as the weight of her suddenly accumulated injuries hit her.
Badly burnt and bleeding, she swipes desultorily at the man as he flies off, thinking now that despite her bravado, she might be closer to death than ever before.
Pirknok glances to the side momentarily, a slightly puzzled look on his face as he notices something (or someone) in the crowd. As he hears Jessamy's cry of pain, he roars wordlessly and turns to charge her attacker, the distraction forgotten. "Il nak fivarkun kor makor!" he shouts loudly.