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"I put my money on spoiled ass. I've eaten bad donkey before. It makes you do strange things. Horrible after effects for days as well. We should probably watch after the boy. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Just a kid after all. Doesn't know better."
Zwain looks at Baldric meaningfully.
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Satinder frown upon the both of them as they begin to speculate on who he is. "I am not some spoiled rich boy. I doubt I would ever even begin to have that sort of lifestyle, but I would not want to bore your attempts to become rich off of noble intentions with my life's story."
Gillian's face flushes red at the distraught man's words. "Keep better company? I'd never met this man," indicating Baldric, "or these other two," indicating Satinder and Vili, "until about thirty minutes ago when the festival went belly-up! To be honest, I was more concerned with trying to punt those kneebiters out of town and not die than checking the credentials of total strangers," she grumbles. However, his grief does not fail to move her and her tone softens. "I'm sorry for your loss and the loss of everyone else that died today. I can't speak for these men here, but all I can offer is that I tried as best as I could to do something to make a difference this day. Whether it was enough or not...I suppose that's for each man and woman to decide for themselves." Not wishing to further upset the grieving man or anyone else and risk getting tossed out of her own place of employment, she turns her attention back to the people sitting at the table with her.
"For pete's sake!" she exclaims at Baldric and Satinder's...disagreement. "You", pointing at Baldric, "shouldn't get too far ahead of yourself. Ameiko offered you free lodging here tonight if you want it and didn't that Foxglove fellow offer to buy lunch tomorrow -and- reward us in some manner? I know it's not coin, ale, or a free pass to the Pixie's Kitten, but that's more than you had before and better than nothing, isn't it?" Having said that, she then turns to look at Satinder. "However, Baldric here's got a good point too. Plenty of folks that learn the sword take pride in their abilities and stick with it even when they could likely find safer employment for similar wages; I know I don't always agree with how they decide on what jobs to take but there's still room for respect for stepping up to offer a wanted, but dangerous, service."
Seemingly satisfied with the (she feels) mild tongue-lashing that's just given, Gillian sips from her mug quietly for a moment. Almost as an afterthought, she looks up at Zwain. "Where on earth did you get hold of spoiled ass?" she asks, genuinely curious.
"Stray strix in the forest. He gutted it and buried it in the earth for a week before he dug it up and ate it raw. Nice enough to offer me some even though he was starving. He must have recognized my talent. Killed by a bugbear that same evening," Zwain states matter of factly.
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Vili looks between the members at the table, "Easy now! There are all sorts of people in this world, with all sorts of priorities. Trust me, I've seen more than my fair share in my travels. Some good, some not so much... First, how you earn or came by your money is nobody's business but your own, fair?".
Without so much as waiting for a reply, Vili continues in hushed but forced tones, "Let us at least see the sense in making it through one night together, with free food and lodging no less, so that we can meet with this Foxglove in the morning. After that, it is anyone's choice what happens, but can we at least hold it together for the benefit that may make to some?" Vili looks imploringly to all at the table before taking another swig of ale and contemplating his mug.
Sulking in silence, Baldric settles into several mugs of ale...
Gillian blinks at Zwain. "Sounds like it could make for an entertaining (or quite possibly tragic) epic," she finally says. "And you're right, all bickering is going to do at this point is give us indigestion - which isn't how I want to end the day, considering everything else," she nods at Vili before returning to quietly sipping from her own mug.
Slipping back into his seat, Satinder sips on his mug as he tries to remain in a positive mood with all the talk that has just occurred.
After allowing the silence to linger for a mug or two, Vili starts to fidget a little, until finally, "OK. I can't stand the silence. On the road we always had music, dance or stories. I was never very good at the first two, so let me see..."
Vili bows his head in thought for a moment before starting to relate an old Varisian fable about the small town being besieged by ogres. The ogres were constantly wrecking their farms, taking their livestock and kin. Vili begins the story so that only the table can hear, but as he warms up to it a little he gets a little louder and can easily be overheard by neighboring tables as well. The story continues about how a traveling caravan of gypsies comes across the scene of several ogres leaving the small town with booty in tow, including several of the town's daughters. A small group of dashing young gypsies manage to use strength and guile to overcome the ogres with the women and scaring off the others.
The story ends as the townsfolk gratefully welcome in the gypsies to their town and lives. While the gypsies only stay a while, both the caravan and town end larger than they were before... As he finishes his story Vili looks around and sheepishly clears his throat before reaching for his mug of ale once more.
The mood in the inn is sour, what should have been a heroes welcome had quickly gone south. Then Vili begins his tale, he weaves the story in such away the folks in the inn recognize themselves in its characters. They lament with the loses and celebrate with the victory, then are instilled with a brief glimpse of hope that the morning will bring better things. Though the free drinks do not come, and coins are not showered upon your table, the hateful glances cease, and the accusing farmer gives Vili an approving nod.
Usually it is a late night at the Rusty Dragon, but with the recent events most head home early. Eventually you each find your way to your place for the night eager to put this day of tragedy behind you.
Morning finds the five of you in the common room of the Rusty Dragon, Ameiko has not arrived, but Bethanna is manning the kitchens and a hot breakfast of bacon and flavored eggs soon is filling your hungry bellies. Other then you all the other guest are still in their rooms, or have left, except for a loudly snoring dwarf in the corner of the common room who you recall got extremely drunk the night before.
"Villy? Is that your name? We could use a man of your talent on stage. You should come discuss employment opportunities with the playwright. Some of his current stuff is getting a bit stale. He could stand to spice it up, and honestly, I'm getting bored of playing the female lead."
Feeling unusually out-of-sorts from the mess at the festival as well as the unexpectedly sour turn of events in the Rusty Dragon, Gillian is more than willing to listen to someone else talk for a change. Once Vili concludes his story, her mood is brightened and she looks at him approvingly. "That was a fantastic tale, friend. You've got a way with words for sure. You'll have to tell us another one, sometime!"
After the day's events, Gillian finds herself more weary than she'd initially thought and sleeps soundly through the night. When morning comes, she rises early and goes about her usual morning routine, making sure to make herself especially presentable for the group's upcoming lunch with Lord Foxglove.
Once that is done, she joins the others for breakfast and hungrily tucks in to the bacon and eggs. Between bites, she chatters away to whoever seems willing to be sociable. "Morning! Hope everyone slept well; we all need to look and feel our best for our little lunch date later today. First, and in some cases second, impressions are very important, you know."
Waking up feeling refreshed after the events of the previous day, Satinder gets himself out of his bed, and dressed to go downstairs. Joining in as well as everyone else, he begins to eat, attempting to fill the starving pit he worked up in battle. Listening to Gillian, he chimes in as well. "Even though I did not quite meet the man, I will say he is generous in his offer. That to me automatically means I need a good first impression, even if he is a noble. Although I am quite certain that Vili here could make an even better impression after what he did last night. I was relieved to see that I did not have a pitchfork in my door this morning thanks to his wonderful way with words."
"I went out to the stable last night but couldn't find where they kept the pitchforks," Baldric says wryly, looking up for the first time from his plate. Reflecting on the motley group gathered around the table he continues, "I'm willing to let Vili and Gillian handle most of the talking as long as everyone promises not to say anything about how much we don't deserve a reward..."
He looks to each of them for some sign of agreement and somewhat impatiently adds, "and if anyone remains convinced that they are no hero but merely a normal person undeserving of reputation or reward, then I suggest you take this opportunity to return to your normal life."
Vili smiles at the Chelaxian, "Thank you, but I'm afraid I'm no actor...simply a story teller. And a poor one at that, compared to many of our troupe."
In the morning, waking after a night of sound sleep after such an emotionally taxing day, Vili joins his acquaintances at the breakfast table. Fixing himself a hearty plateful, he digs in with relish. "Morning.", Vili mumbles between bites as Gillian joins the table.
As Baldric looks around the table Vili adds, "I do not see myself as a hero from one of the stories of old...however, a reward freely offered for services that were provided is appropriate in my book. I'll admit, sometimes folks didn't even know they were providing rewards to some of our troupe as we performed and labored for some towns..."
Vili stops for a moment and reflects, "In regards to speaking for others...that is not usually my way. I have no desire to put words in anyone's mouth good Baldric. I have traveled to many lands and seen many customs, so perhaps I can assist in not being overly...blunt in situations where more of soft touch might be better received. This man we meet today, we only meet by your intercession yesterday."
Gillian nods at Vili's words. "That's right. Everyone has the right to speak their minds...you just have to be prepared for the consequences if someone doesn't take kindly to what you're saying," she chuckles. She then turns to Baldric. "Look, I'm sorry that I snapped at you yesterday. You're used to receiving payment for services rendered and there's nothing wrong with that. It's more that...well, no one expected for goblins to show up at the festival and to need help in the first place. Most folks were in shock, some had lost loved ones...so offering anyone a reward was probably the last thing on their minds. Sometimes a 'soft touch' like Vili here mentioned works better than a direct approach." With a sigh, she continues. "That said, I could have handled myself better. But today's a new day. What do you say to starting over?" she smiles, hand held out for a handshake.
Baldric's countenance softens somewhat as he considers the woman's offer... "A new start sounds good, especially if it means things going differently than they did yesterday" he replies with a hint of a smile. He shakes her hand and seems in better spirits as breakfast continues.
The dawn of a new day and a warm breakfast puts a better perspective on the relation of five heroes who came to the aid of Sandpoint. The prospect of a nice lunch at the White Deer and a possible cash reward is also nice. Your morning meal is over, but time has easily slipped away after a late start and awkward conversation. The time to meet Lord Foxglove is an hour away, and Bethanna chases you out so she can get the place cleaned up for the night. As you walk about Sandpoint, businesses are open and people are about...but the tragedy of the night prior is defiantly not forgotten, You can see it on the faces, and hear it in the idle conversation.
As the group meanders about the much more subdued town, Gillian suddenly swears and slaps a hand to her forehead. "Damn! All the ruckus and the aftermath of the ruckus made me forget! I'd better go pop in and check on my father and my two sisters before we head off to our meeting. I'd planned to stop by after the festival ended yesterday, but we all know how that turned out!" Holding up a hand, she adds, "I know, you're probably wondering, 'Why didn't you go check on them yesterday, Gillian? What if they're dead?' - well, I know they're not dead or someone would've hunted me down with the news by now." Her voice takes on a bit of a wheedling tone. "Won't take me but just a few minutes, but I don't expect you to tag along with me, either. Should I meet up with the rest of you at the White Deer or want me to just find you out milling around somewhere?"
Satinder looks at Gillian as she speaks. "I believe that you would have been told as well should ill have had happened to them. I have no problem going with you, just in case. Should you want though of course. It makes no difference to me." he responds in kind.
"I am more than willing to follow along. This is my first trip to Sandpoint, and wouldn't mind wandering a little bit...since we have a little time before our meeting.", Villi comments as he looks this way and that while waving to those few people he remembers from the previous night.
"Well," Baldric says with a smile, "I have no idea where anything in this town is, so I'll follow the rest of you."
Gillian and those who follow her duck through he Rusty Dragon kitchen earning a scolding look from Bethann and head north up Cog street. In just a short block the group crosses Prickleback Lane where several of the local carpenters have homes in row of cramped, but well constructed, houses that sits not far from the Carpenters guild house.
Gillian enters calling out for her father, but only finds Melinda's could icy stare. Her fathers wife is heating a pot on the hearth, and is prepping vegetables for an evening stew. "Your father is not here child. His overseer, Battlehorn, came round early summoning all the craftsmen. Seems they have more repairs then hands to fix them after last nights raid, no thanks to you."
Vili flushes as he hears the woman berate Gillian. Quickly stepping closer to Baldric he addresses the woman, "Be thankful the repairs are as limited as they are. Gillian did her duty to her town yesterday by fighting along side those who protected the innocent at the festival. You should be proud of her efforts."
Whispering to Gillian, "I apologize for butting in to family business, but that was uncalled for..., while trying to lay a restraining hand on Baldric's shoulder to help keep the young man calm.
Baldric's cheeks flush and his clenched knuckles whiten... He struggles to contain his desire to put that woman in her place, knowing that getting involved with these sort of familial issues never works out well... He reaches his breaking point and opens his mouth just as the perceptive, and much more tactful, Varisian interjects.
He closes his mouth as Vili speaks, and relaxes... somewhat. The red in his cheeks never really fades until after they've left the house, though he manages to remain silent.
"Hmm, guess she wasn't a fan of the performance. There's no accounting for bad taste, I always say."
Gillian returns Melinda's icy look with one of her own. Mindful that one or both of her sisters might be elsewhere within the house and within earshot, she does manage (with some effort) to keep her tone relatively civil, if strained. "I'm sorry that I missed him, but I'm glad that you, he, Selena, and Eirrica weren't hurt in yesterday's ruckus. We," she indicates her companions, "won't be inconveniencing you by lingering here, but I did want to check in on everyone before taking care of some business elsewhere in town." She pauses, before adding "But if we're that short on hands to make repairs, then I can certainly go see if I can make myself useful to father in some way even if it's just carrying things about. Since I failed to singlehandedly stop the goblins yesterday, you know." Not that she really intended to do this or expected that her help would be needed, but Gillian knew the thought of her spending any extended amount of time with her father would be enough to rankle her stepmother. "And on that note, I think it's time for us to go before we risk overstaying our welcome! Thank you Melinda, it's been pleasant as always," she chirps before seeing herself and her friends out.
As they leave Gillian's home, Satinder looks towards her with a look of slight empathy. "I would say that it is pleasant to know your family is safe, however I seem to be under the impression that it is not exactly the same kind of pleasant most would agree with. I may seem a step out of place in saying this, but if you need to release some frustration, I am here to listen if you would like. I understand what it is like, having a parent who is not exactly your parent..."
As Satinder speaks of releasing frustrations, Gillian's lips twitch in a bit of a smile as she raises an eyebrow. "I believe that's the first time I've heard the word 'listen' used in the same sentence with talk about venting frustrations," she says mischievously. "But I appreciate it just the same. I'm sorry you all had to see that; Melinda and I never have got on very well - I'm too much a reminder of my father's moment of weakness. We've tolerated each other though, for his sake and the sake of my two half-sisters." She waves her hand dismissively, almost as if shooing a fly. "At any rate, that's enough about Gillian's personal troubles for now. I believe we've got a lunch date to keep unless anyone else needs to make a stop somewhere?"
At Gillian's comment about being unaccustomed to talk of listening to relieve frustrations, Baldric raises an eyebrow and dryly responds, "if you prefer more physical means of venting frustrations I may be able to help," with a smirk.
"Lunch, excellent. I pray he serves game hens. Haven't had a good game hen in a long time. I wonder where he gets his salt. I may have an offer for him. Just have to convince him to buy a dozen barrels at a time. Shouldn't take much, I wouldn't think."
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Satinder chuckles a moment at Zwain's words. "That is fine, I completely understand Gillian. However, I am curious... You are perhaps the most interesting business man I have ever encountered Mr. Zwain. What exactly is it that you do?"
"I broker deals for wholesale amounts of mined and refined salt. Everyone needs salt. It's a lucrative business, I tell you. Are you looking to get in to the market? I may need a partner."
"Let me guess, Zwain," the large man jokes, "you need someone to secure the salt you're already trying to sell?"
"Details, friend Baldric. Insignificant details," Zwain waves a hand dismissively.
Zwain's discussion on salt seems to help alleviate the tension of family dynamics the group just left. However the light mood is abated some as you move through the streets of Sandpoint enduring the stares and whispers of locals and visitors alike. It seems they rumors have spread quickly and the general consensus seems to be your actions at the plaza only incited the goblins and made it more difficult for the town watch to get control of the situation. One shop owner even puts a closed sign in the window, until you pass far enough by.
While the town's perception of what happened is obviously askew, Lord Foxglove is beaming with delight as you enter the White Deer. A large round table is already set with a large plater piled high with roasted beef, braised potatoes, and seasoned vegetables and tankards of ale are poured and ready at each seat. He nearly knocks his chair over standing to welcome you. "Baldric, my hero! Quick come, sit, enjoy. Introduce me to your companions...so valiant you all are." The inn is unusually empty of patrons at this hour and aside from shoanti owner, Garridan, the usual staff is unseen.
As Baldric walks through the streets to the unwelcoming glares many thoughts pass through his mind... well, I'm certainly not lifting a finger to save any of these ungrateful hicks ever again... I guess this is what happens when you try so hard to convince people that your no heroes, they believe you... No wonder people have burned down their temple so many times, everyone in this town is a complete @$$hole...
His mood improves greatly at the friendly reception at lunch. Sitting down with a smile, he replies, "so good to see you again, Lord Foxglove. This is Zwain, an aspiring salt merchant and recreational wizard; that's Satinder; and this is Vili and Gillian, both of whom are far better conversationalists than I."
Zwain stops and stares at the table, "What, no game hens? Beef ... how predictable.". He moves to sit, grumbling and even pouting a bit.
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As the group makes their way to their lunch date, Gillian sighs as they continue to draw ugly looks and whispers. I'll never hear the end of this...especially not from Melinda. Suppose I could always try my luck in Magnimar if it gets bad enough...
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"It's a pleasure to meet you," Gillian says, offering a smile to the nobleman. "Thank you again for the lunch, it looks and smells delicious," she adds as they sit, looking rather pointedly at Zwain as well as nudging his foot underneath the table.
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As the group passes through town, Vili's face goes from open and friendly to confused to dour and moody. I've seen bad reactions to performances and deeds done by some of our troupe...but this is response is just nonsensical! As the merchant closes his shop to the group, Vili mutters, "Well, I won't be giving YOU any of my customs...
Vili nods as Baldric introduces the group to the nobleman. Smiling, Vili adds as he takes his seat, "It is nice to meet you milord. Truly, this is a breath of fresh air after the welcome we've received in town today. The meal looks delicious."
Satinder grows uncomfortable as they walk through the town. "I know that we really did not have an actual defense plan, but I would not have thought that the townsfolk would be this unpleased. I would not put it past me that last night did not help at all in the slightest bit..."
After arriving to the White Deer, his mood picks up slightly. Seeing the food, he begins to wonder if the man appreciated their efforts that much or if he was using the food to act as a bribe for services of protection. He never really was too sure when it came to nobility. "Thank you Lord Foxglove, this meal certainly does look ravishing. As Vili has said, I am sure that it will help us get past the looks in town we recieved."
"Please, friends call me Aldern. It is a great pleasure to meet the friends of one so Heroic as Baldric here. I suspect they were up late singing and toasting his worthiness at the Rusty Dragon last night. Alas, I could not attend since I was making arrangements for our feast. I do hope you enjoy, it is the least I can do for those who risked life and limb to save me. Tell me how do the others fair? The woman and the barbarian who suffered blows from those nefarious goblins." Now that you are all seated and eating you are aware of two empty chairs.
We certainly *were* the talk of the town last night, but not in the way you think... Gillian silently adds. However, she's determined to not let yesterday's misunderstandings dampen what will probably be the only pleasant part of her day. "The woman...I believe Baldric said her name is Rhiannon? She took a bad blow but thanks to Vili here, should recover with time and rest. As for the other man..." she sighs. "He wasn't as lucky," she says regretfully.
So much for cheerful conversation...can't we just redo yesterday entirely? she thinks, glumly.
Gillians report of the shoanti's demise seems to dampen the mood at the table and everyone eats in silence for long while. Alden breaks the uncomfortableness with a toast, "Let us remember the great price that has been paid for freedom too many times. Let us remember the one who paid it. He lived, he felt, he was as vibrant, as energetic, as immortal as you and I. He was brave. He fell for peace and for freedom so that we might live today. Many may argue about the futility of death and of war, but one should never forget that he died, not in vain, but in honor." He lifts his tankard in a salute and then takes a long swallow.
Baldric joins in raising the glass, and in a long swallow of his own... "Well said!"
Following suit, Satinder raises his glass as well, taking a long swallow.
Vili hoists his glass, "Well said indeed, Aldren, well said. The northman life was lost looking out for those that could not protect themselves. I am sure his rewards in the hereafter shall reflect such a deed."
After finishing his plate, Vili pushes it back and sips at his glass. "Thank you for such an excellent meal Aldren. The roast was delicious. My compliments to the chef."
Gillian also raises her glass, nodding in appreciation of Aldern's words. "Hear hear!" she says, taking a drink. Though she enjoys the rest of the meal, by the time glasses are empty and plates pushed back, she finds herself growing tired of the silence.
"So! With all of the commotion yesterday, none of us really spoke much beyond basic introductions. Now that our bellies are full, why don't we get to know each other a little better? This includes you too L-Aldern, if you've the time," she smiles at the nobleman. "Baldric, since you seem to be the man of the hour, why don't we start with you? You've mentioned doing some work as a mercenary; what drew you to that life?' she queries.
"Well," Baldric begins, leaning back from the table, "As a youth I earned a spot at the prestigious Academy of Thassilonian Martial Arts and Sciences... A few months ago I graduated. My classmates all accepted offers to serve as officers or personal bodyguards for noblemen, wizards, or wealthy merchants, but I've been enjoying the freedom of self-employment. Don't get me wrong, there have been some tempting offers, and I know my father will be relieved when I eventually settle in to a long-term stable position, but for the time being short-term arrangements and serendipitous opportunities for... 'spontaneous employment' have been keeping enough coin in my pocket to travel and enjoy myself."
He stops as if done speaking but then can't restraining himself from adding, "the occasional ungrateful bunch not withstanding..."
"HERE HERE!" Zwain thunders, raising his mug and draining it.