"Lewis...it's okay...I'm sorry that I brought up painful memories.”
"Oh! Whut's happenin' over there?"
*Scamper, scamper, scamper, scamper*
"D---! Looks like Caln's found himself a playmate." Jethro pulled a signal whistle from around his neck and blew into it. Don't want to start blasting just yet, but does this guy have any friends?
Everyone near the town square hears the loud blast from Jethro's whistle pierce the air. In answer, another blast can be heard a few seconds later, followed immediately by the loud whine of a bullet's ricochet. A large divot is blasted out of the sand near Caln and his assailant's feet where the bullet impacted. The sudden noise noise is enough to shake the old soldier out of his drunken rage, and the grapple ends - replaced by the old man collapsing on Caln with an out pouring of sobs and memories of a dwarf-friend. You can barely make out what he's saying through the drunken blubbering, but you catch two words - "barley wine".
If you look where the gunshot came from, you see Oswald at his perch, lowering his long rifle. It's all the way across the square, too far for anything but shouting, but Suny and Marco, if they look behind, can see his grim expression.
The gunshot may be a sound the locals are accustomed to, but not a signal whistle. You can see curious faces looking out of windows all around you, and a small crowd has formed a safe distance from the "fight". Ausk, I'm not sure where you are at this point in the group's timeline, given that Caln spent an hour already in the tavern canvassing and the others went to the inn, but if your still in the stables talking to Ironfist, you will have heard the whistle. Ironfist gets curious and leaves the main entrance of the stable to get a look at whets going on.
Hakiri is already at home for the evening, practicing her intimidating glare in a mirror as orcs do.
To the locals"Would one of you please help Lewis home?"
Caln walks over to Suny and Jethro"Well that could have gone better. Would you two mind going with me to talk to the doctor about the autopsy on the Orc? I don't want to take any chances if he's in a bad mood too.”
i'll take him home
One of the local farmers whom Arwen once helped against a wild boar attack speaks up. "Doctor Verne? Lewis lives in that tenement building! Doctor Verne keeps some of his...patients there..." He coughs. "If they need special treatment, if you take my meaning." he taps his noggin a few times, sending sniggers rippling quietly through the small crowd of gawkers.
So, I leave Caln alone for an hour or so, and I come back to find him in a drunken brawl at the tavern. And the sheriff decides that the best way to break it up is with a rifle.
Maybe i should have listened more closely to Mr. Ironfist. The wagon run both ways.
"You want me to come along... in case the doctor's in a bad mood?" Seeing the scowl on Caln's face, Jethro switched tactics. "Sure, Caln. I wanted to talk to Dr. Verne myself." I'll just hope this isn't a habit of his. You know,: smoking, whistling off-key, getting in tavern brawls....
At least the elf has enough reach to throw a punch. All I could do is hit someone in the testicles with an uppercut. "Er,...would you like me to start the conversation at the doctor's chirurgury?"
Suddenly the impact of the onlooker's words hit Jethro. "I'm sorry, I may not have heard you correctly. Is Lewis Faelorn one of Dr. Verne's regular patients? Do you know what happened to him? To Mr. Faelorn, I mean...."
"Jethro, mayhaps it would be better if you take the lead on the conversation with the good doctor. I will support you the best I can."
When Marco heres the gunshot, he rushes to the brawl, hoping to get in a few licks himself as a deputy. To his dismay, the fight has broken up already.
Mind if I tag along to the doc's? I need some questions answered about the Orc as well.
"Makes sense Marco...we need to get used to working together before we go visit the Orcs."
Jethro shrugged his indifference. "The more, the merrier.... or, at least, the more." He was careful not to let his relief show. Well, if Caln decides to pick a fight with the doc, at least there's someone a bit taller than me to break it up.
"Marco, you've met the doctor before? Anything I should know about?"
Suny watches curiously as one fellow is helped away from the scene. Listening in to every one's banter she skips forwards and smiles,
"So then. Oft'a tha' Doc's." (^_^) She says, though waiting for some one who knows the way to lead on.
As the group saunters along Suny asks,
"Here...Why tha' kerfuffle at tha' ruckus with tha' tavern? Dun't peoples let off steam like that all'a time? I mean, I wandered through...oh...dozens o' paces comin' up tha' river. I thought places like that were s'posed ta' be fer fightin'...?" She burbles brightly to her companions.
Jethro, I do not know the Doc, but I know that I have questions.
He smiles at Suny.
We'll have to get that drink another time, lass, and, yah, that's what I see the tavern as too!
Arwen once he has taken lewis home, will head back to the office. Where he will review the case file for the mutated orcs as well as the background information on the encampment he is going to in the morrow.
(^_^)
At the doctors:
"Good afternoon, Magister Verne." "My personal name is Jethro, surnamed Biscuitbarrel, of the clan Fin-tim-lim-bin-whim-bim. I am an arcanist and a golliard, and I am at your clan's service." Why is it that gnomic social rituals are so lengthy? Half the orc tribes don't even use personal names -- it's just "Me Breakwind tribe." Maybe the longer the racial lifespan, the more time one has to say "hello"? I'll have to ask Suny what the Elves do. Anyway....
"I am the newest recruit for Sheriff Oswald's team, and he suggested that I come talk to you about some autopsies you've done on some rather unusual orcs. (I've a badge here somewhere if you want to see it.) He has something cunning in mind to deal with this new orcish threat, but we'd like -- I'd like -- to know more about the details of what we might be facing. I don't know much about his plan exactly, but you've already figured out that it doesn't involve delivering them flowers and chocolates."
Jethro will listen as best he can, and also offer any comments or questions that seem appropriate. In particular, there are a few specific issues he'd like to address (relevant skills and rolls follow, or take 10 if appropriate):
* Is this a natural effect (like Suny's "disease" suggestion)? [Kn(nature), untrained, )
* Is this a spell effect, and if so, what school or spell? [Spellcraft, )
* Is this an arcane effect? [Kn(arcane), untrained, )
* Is this an alchemical effect? [Kn(arcane), untrained, )
* Is this a divine effect? (if so, druidic?) [Kn(religion), untrained )
Aid Sense Motive =
Knowledge Religion =
At the Doctor's Sunny skips up and offers her usual, "Hey-YA there!" Greeting. Along with an out thrust hand to shake and a bright smile. (^_^)
Standing by and listening interestedly as Jethro expounds upon what the group would like to know/see/do.
At the direction of Marco, the five of you (with Lewis in tow, mumbling incoherently) make your way across the open square of the town. It's close to 3 PM, by your best guess - there was once a clock above the inn, but there's a thick Orc spear embedded in the face that prevents the hands from moving around properly. Jethro and Suny attract their share of stares from the locals. On the way over you spy several other buildings of interest - one that appears to be a funeral home, with Pharasma's symbol prominently displayed on the door, two churches whose primary worship was Cayden Cailean and Desna respectively, two restaurants, the Shaky Tax Collector (abbreviated STC by the locals) and Pepper's Fine Dining. You also pass by a few more small meeting houses and a lot of simple dwellings.
When you reach the building that Marco indicates is where the Doctor operates, it takes the newcomers a bit by surprise. The second story and the ground floor appear to be two completely separate buildings that have been haphazardly rested on top of each other. You can detect a significant lean in the construction of the top floor - the roof extends several feet past the foundation on one side of the large building, but not the other. There are two run-down dwellings on either side, but they both look abandoned, and one even has a plank of wood boarded over the front door.
The ground floor of the Doctor's office, though, is pristine, appearing to be made of the same smooth alabaster of the central obelisk. It has stood up remarkably well to the eroding effects of desert life, looking as new as the day it was built. There is no sign out front indicating that this building serves any other function than a simple dwelling.
Upon entering the building, you find it is a sty. Trash and the belongings of the residents are scattered around everywhere, to the point where it's difficult to even walk properly. You do notice, however, that there is a cleared-out path around the outer edges of the room, which is spotless and clean. At the end of the makeshift path, on the far side of the room, are two signs next to one another - "Doctor", written in flowing calligraphy and pointing to the ladder to the left that goes down, and "Rezidents" misspelled and scrawled in big black letters, pointing to the twisting staircase on the far right corner that goes straight up. You also notice a strange door next to the Doctor's ladder that doesn't reach the floor and is wider than it is tall, with a pair of brass handles. Currently, there's no sounds coming from inside the building except for faint murmuring sounds of conversation coming from the second floor.
Arwen nods to the rest of you and begins laboring to get Lewis up the stairs and into his own bed before setting off back to the office. Arwen, when you reach the second floor, you notice Runa Volundr, another member of the local law enforcement, nodding and taking notes from what appears to be an irate housewife. You don't catch all the conversation, but from what you can tell, the housewife is a harpy who is angry about her husband staying out all night at that damn new tavern that opened up on the far end of town.
The rest of you make your way to the trapdoor that covers up the ladder leading down. When you open the trapdoor you're immediately greeted by a loud, hoarse scream of pain, followed by an second irritated voice scolding the screamer to quiet down. The second voice giggles when it finished speaking.
The ladder leads down about ten feet, and when you reach the bottom you see a matching door to the one you saw on the ground floor in the wall next to the ladder. When Jethro steps foot on the ground below, an Ioun Torch falls from a slot in the ceiling and konks you on the head, after which it begins to orbit and emit a soft light equal to a torch. You can see a small basin on a pedestal covered with a thick cloth that reads "VISITORS PLEASE RETURN YOUR LIGHTS WHEN YOU ARE DONE HERE. THANK YOU."
You're standing in a corridor, and there are paintings lining the wall depicting an artist's rendition of Magnimar and the countryside of Varisia. There are some wooden chairs on either side of the wide corridor and there's a wooden door standing ajar about 30 feet away. Through it, you see lights of alternating colors, blue, green, red, black, flashing from one color to another every five seconds or so. The door has a sign on it that reads "The Doctor is" with a slot below for "IN" or "OUT." Only IN is visible.
You hear a faint cackling coming from behind the door.
Caln thinks that this is completely unlike any doctor's office...anywhere...ever.Of course, maybe this is normal for Gnomes.
"Uh Jethro, is this typical for a Gnome Doctor's office?" After a brief pause Caln adds ”At least it looks like the doctor is in...
Preparing in case of trouble, Caln checks to make sure his Morningstar is in place and runs through the list of spells available to him.
Suny steps cautiously along the path around the clutter and lithely scales the ladder down. She leans around those in front and watches intently as people call for the attention of the good Doctor.
When Marco sees the depiction of his homelaqnd of Magnimar and the countryside, he is filled with pride, but then he realizes that back home, and just about everywhere around, he is a wanted man. He shines his badge with the cuff of his sleeve, and he opens the door to the Doctor's.
In Varisian.
Good day Doctor, we are deputies of Freedom Town, come to ask you a few questions.
He steps aside, letting the others enter, and stands with arms crossed awaiting answers from Jethro's deluge of questions.
"Uh Jethro, is this typical for a Gnome Doctor's office?"
"Pretty much," lied Jethro smoothly. Reflecting on Sister Fimblewinter's injunctions about proper behavior, he added "Well, normal for the kind of doctor that would practice in Freedom Town, at any rate. This settlement encourages -- requires -- a certain `rugged individualism,' you know?" Without waiting for a response, Jethro strode past the clutter. "Obviously doing well, if he can afford ioun torches. But I admit I'd be thinking about selling a torch and hiring a cleaning service."
Now, if this were a cheap silver-piece novel, it would turn out that Dr. Verne is a mad alchemist and these orcs are creations, in which case he will blatantly lie to us about anything and everything resulting from his autopsy. If this were a slightly better-written novel, it will turn out that he's a pyrite mole
I'm going to hope that instead we're not in a novel at all, and that he's just a crazy old coot and the psychotic orcs have done this all on their own. But let's be careful here, shall we?
Caln gives a pray of thanks to Pharasma for providing a potentially insane Gnome adventurer to talk to a potentially insane Gnome Doctor.
Suny just stands and watches/looks about....any thoughts she may have she keeps to her happy self, them probably flitting about her mind ass seems to be her personalities want.
"Soooo....this be a healer's type o' place, then...?" Suny muses out loud, even as she moves a little further into the room and looks about. Leaning over and peering at the 'Doctor' stuff.......
"I assume so, yes," answered Jethro. "I've never met Dr. Verne personally, so I don't know his background. He could be a chirurgeon, or even a physician. I don't think he's a cleric, as there's not enough religious paraphernalia on the walls, but he could easily be an arcanist of some sort." Jethro sniffed the air, loudly. "It doesn't smell like an alchemist's laboratory down here, but he could simply have rigged something up to improve the ventilation."
"Whatever it turns out to be, though, I'm impressed. In a settlement of this size, I had expected a barber who dabbled in bloodletting, or an undertaker with a case of idle curiosity. Not a full-fledged medical professional."
Caln follows behind Marco, Jethro and Suny into the office.
Suny nods as she listens to Jethro and continues to peer and look about,
"My folk do most of they's soothin' in'a temple. Though, thems folks whut have a bent an' skill with tha' herbs might have a hut some place nearby..." She absently makes conversation.
Hakiri, you kind of skipped past your own encounter with the Sheriff when you delivered the report he asked for, and if you're at home, your plan (I assume) is to wait until when Ausk has said the team will leave town (early evening). Otherwise, let me know and we'll retcon you somewhere else, I have no problem with that. Or you can just leave home again and find whomever you're looking for on your own time.
Ausk and Arwen, I'm leaving for Bonnaroo tonight and I'll be gone for the week, but I'm going to be continuing posting on my smartphone during the day, assuming I have cell service in Manchester, Tennessee. What happens at the sheriff's office (where Arwen is conducting his research) and the stables (where you are wrapping up your horses acquisition, as well as doing anything else your character thinks appropriate) will be written up tomorrow.
Ausk knows that Ironfist has a history of honorable dealings with the township, being a dwarf that largely distances himself from too much social interaction with other humanoids, preferring the company of equines and bottles of liquor.
After the excitement outside dies down and Ausk gently guides him back to business, Ironfist begins chewing on the part of his beard just below his lower lip. You've seen him make that gesture before, and you know it's a habit he only indulges in when he's nervous. He stares wordlessly down at the slip of paper you had handed to him, then he takes you into the stables.
In contrast to the rest of the town, the stables are well-shaded and cool. The horses in the stable look healthy and happy under Ironfist's care. He has 10 horses in the stable, out of a capacity for over thirty in the large building. When he walls you past one horse after another, they all look rather unremarkable but one - a tall, wild stallion standing several hands higher than the next highest horse. On the front of his stall reads a sign that says "Ill News." Ironfist doesn't include him in the seven horses he sets aside for you.
Hums quietly to herself as she waits the Doctor's interview and tries to work out the meaning of some of the items she can see...
Hums quietly to herself as she waits the Doctor's interview and tries to work out the meaning of some of the items she can see...
"Is that an Elven song that you sing Suny? Personally, I have no talents for music but enjoy hearing those that do...
|
Ausk tries to deal with the realization that Ironfist seems nervous with a bit of playful jest. "Ill News, huh? Is this what's got you trembling and chewing on your beard?" Ausk hopes he won't have to be more direct than that, but doesn't leave him an out. He hopes the old dwarf will just roll the truth out without an interrogation in his own stables.
Ausk takes a moment to survey the horse and then approaches it slowly. Animals were easy to understand-- he was practically half-animal himself.
Maybe Ausk is overestimating his abilities.
At your attempt at humor, Ironfist trembles almost imperceptibly and swallows. He then attempts to get a grip, but for a dwarf he has serious problems with maintaining a good poker face. "What? Ah, ahaha, no, that's just his name. He was sold to me by an Ustalavan who passed through recently. He's not fully broken yet, so I was able to get him at a good deal. Seemed happy to get rid of him, and I can see why now, the ornery son of a dragon. They say ill news travels fast...and there are none faster than this horse. But he's not suitable for sheriff work, Deputy, he's not ready yet..." He looks up at you with a hopeful, almost pleading expression, as if afraid that you might insist. Obviously, people around here are accustomed to obeying Oswald's requests.
At your attempt to approach, Ill News rears up on his hind legs and slashes the air with his powerful hooves, slamming heavily against the stable door and nearly knocking you back.