Feora gasps. Uhm..., what's going on guys? She immediately shrinks back a bit, looking at the group of men and backing away a bit.
"Nothing bad, I assure you," Horatio says to Feora, not taking his eyes off the armed men. "Only a simple misunderstanding. Isn't that right, sirs?"
"I was with them the whole time officers. They didn't smuggle anything, I swear!" Trig interjects putting on her best cute and innocent face (which is really so cute that even Olives wants to saw awww).
The speaker nods, "I'm Sheriff Benhovy and these are my deputies. This piece of refuse has been smuggling in our parts for a while and I have just been waiting to catch him back in town for a while. I'll let you go, because I think you are being honest with me, I'll let you go. Unfortunately, if he hasn't paid you, though...well...all of his goods are being confiscated. I apologize that you were duped by Silas." With that the Sheriff nods and walks over to the two deputies that chased down Silas.
The person who had been speaking with Trig beforehand just watched the entire scene play out, shaking her head. "Goodness, you poor lot."
Horatio can hear the leather in Olivius's gauntlets creak as his hand clasps his spear's shaft.
Sir! He calls after the sheriff, May I have a word with Mr. Silas?
Stopping to look at the man with a hand on his weapon's shaft, the sheriff puts his hand on his own weapon. "You certainly can. But only at a reasonable distance...and in my presence." He continues to look at the caravan guard dubiously.
Olivius stows his spear and shield. Better? I'm not gonna kill him, if that's your worry.
He then approaches until the lawman says to stop.
The sheriff nods.
While he does not remove his hand from his weapon, he allows the guard a bit closer.
In a low voice pregnant with the promise of violence Olivius says, You drag a starving, desperate guard and the man who annoyes him most on a bugus caravan?
You better hope the good sheriff has you in his care for a good, long time.
He holds Silas's gaze for a long moment, then slowly turns, suddenly pivots, and ruthlessly drives his mailed fist directly between the caravan driver's eyes.
Feora has been watching this whole discourse in dazed silence. However when she sees Olivius move to hit the Caravan driver she gasps and cries out.
"No!"
Feora drops her pack, grabbing her healers kit and running over to try and maybe do something, but already too late to do so.
Chuckling, "Thanks for that. I wanted to do it, but am not allowed. Good day, young guard."
Looking at the healer, the Sheriff smiles and shakes his head, "No ma'am. He should feel the sting for a while. He has done several of you wrong...clearly."
The woman who had been watching moves up to the group. "Terrible luck, I am sorry for you bad tidings."
Feora nods at the woman. "This is terrible..., with all this happening..., what are we going to do?"
To the sheriff, No problem. You wouldn't happen to have any openings, would you?
The sheriff looks over to Olivius, "Perhaps, my boy, but right now, I have to head off with this one."
The woman looks to Feora, "You poor, poor things. I suppose for the next few days, I can put you up. I am Talia Orem; I own the Wise Piper Inn. For your troubles, I believe I can afford a few rooms on the house and if you want meals, you can put in some work in the inn to pay me back for it. No sense in you suffering because someone else played you."
Horatio can't help faintly rolling his eyes as Olivius introduces Silas to his fist, but has to admit that he wanted to do the same. He puts his hand on the fighter's shoulder, attempting to gently drag him away.
Sliding into the conversation between Feora and Talia, he nods, dipping in a slight bow. "I am Horatio, a master performer, and this is my friend Olives, who, as you can see, is quite capable of fighting off troublemakers. I'm sure working off some meals would be no problem."
Of Course, sir. Olivius says, hopeful because at least he had a lead, and that was better than nothing.
To the tavern keeper he says, I won't take advantage of you, Miss Orem. If you put us up, I'll do whatever you deem necessary to cover the debt.
She chuckles, "Just having you around might be amusing enough. Come come." She leads the small group to her inn, the only one in the small town and it is clear why she is offering free room...she has nearly no guests at the moment. In fact, hustle and bustle is not the right way to call this place...quiet and quaint would suit it better.
On the way in, Olivius keeps his eyes open for things that he can do without being told.
But he knows little about sedentary village life, so nothing really stands out.
"Gee, thanks, Mrs. Orem! Do you know a gnomish historian who lives here? I came to Belhaim to talk with her." Trig mentally instructs Fligg to stick close, and not to steal anything. This is a small town and these people appear to not have anything to spare really. Fligg saunters along behind the others in his loincloth, winking at the local ladies whenever Trig's not looking.
"You must mean Bassy...she's the town historian...and well, the only gnome."
"Yes, that's her. Is she around here?" Trig asks excitedly, grinning.
"She is out of town for a day or two, but I will certainly send you her way when she returns. She went out to gather herbs for potions, I believe."
"Oh." Trig looks very disappointed for a second, literally slumping. Realizing she's being rude she shakes it off, "Okay, thanks! Is there anything fun to do around here while I wait for her?" Trig asks hopefully.
Feora follows along, and smiles. "Come on Trig, I'm sure we can figure something out."
Horatio's heart sinks as he sees the state of the inn. Wonderful. This looks dreadfully boring. Damnit, Horatio, what have you gotten yourself into? He claps his hand on Olivius' shoulder again, inhaling deeply through his nose. "Well, how about that drink? I hope this place will become more tolerable after a few of them," he mutters from the corner of his mouth.
Olivius chuckles at Horatio's comment. For once he didn't mind having the Magnamarian with him.
He heads inside with that apprehensive feeling that comes with hurtling head first into the unknown.
Trig follows Feora and Fligg follows Trig. They've gotten dreadfully quiet in the face of days of boredom waiting for Bassy to return.
The day goes, and occasionally Talia will come out of the kitchen and ask for some help.
Middle of the afternoon rolls by and after the lunch rush has ended and Trig had helped clean the dishes, the group was being given a well-earned meal.
The entire common room is empty save for the five members of the group (Fligg included), Talia, and a white-blond haired woman, who is well-dressed and situated near the door with a heavy book, when the windows of the inn seem to shudder as if there was heavy thunder.
"That was odd..."
Feora blinks, looking about.
"So what are we going to do everyone? Almost feels like we are stuck. And that man was paid to take me someplace, but the priest never said where." Feora looks dejected as she pulls some things out of her pack to check and make sure that everything is there.
Horatio starts up from where he sits, feet up on a table, idly plucking his violin strings, nearly falling off the back of his chair in surprise. "What in the nine hells was that?" he asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks around. Seeing Feora looking dejected, he offers her a warm smile as he settles back into his seat. "Well, maybe you're exactly where you need to be," he suggests with a small shrug. "This place may not be exciting, but I'm going to try to make the most of it. You should do the same." He keeps an eye on the windows as he falls back into his pluckings and scratchings. Nothing more than thunder... No cause for alarm.
Olivius peeks up from the last bite of his lunch in responce to the noise. Seeing noone else move, he shrugs and tucks back into his food.
After a few minutes, a young man runs in, out of breath..."The Witch Tower...it's fallen!" With those words, he steps back out to look as if he can barely believe it himself.
Talia drops the rag she had been using to polish wine glasses and quickly moves outside to see what is going on.
Fligg clearly hears the noise, and conveys to Trig that it was more like a landslide than thunder through their mental link. "Hey, that was a landslide or something," she says. Before she can act on the information a boy runs in and declares the Witch Tower to have fallen. "Well, that, sounds exciting!" she says, popping out of her chair and running outside to see what's going on as well. Fligg follows her with a parting waggle of his eyebrows for any ladies in the room.
Feora gasps, looking over. "Witch tower? There are witches out here? That doesn't sound good at all! Someone could get hurt in a tower falling like that."
She grabs up her pack, using her staff to help support her weight, as she looks a little tired, but clearly not ready to stop going yet.
Olivius makes sure to grab his shield and spear before he leaves. He was still in his armor from this morning, so he jingled as he collected his gear and made for the door.
Horatio springs out of his seat, violin in hand. He pauses just long enough to seize his rapier and down the rest of his drink before following the others.
As the group heads outside, followed closely by the white-haired woman, and they can see that a tower that was just on the outskirts of town (nothing overly remarkable, just a tower...though it didn't really 'fit' the layout of the town, it wasn't odd looking, so nothing noteworthy...until now) has indeed fallen. Smoke fills the air above the tower, ever so slightly and people all over town are out in the streets staring in shock.
"Daaaaaaayuum!" Trig says, before sprinting off towards the tower. Fligg laughs and does an endless series of cartwheels following after her.
Feora groans, then takes off after Trig. "I sure hope no one got hurt." She wondered for a moment if they should be going to a strange tower on the edge of town, but banished the thought from her mind once noticing Trig and Fligg making very fast time in that direction.
The white-haired woman moves past them. "Well, while you dawdle here, I will go and find out if anyone is hurt..." she says with a bit of ire in her voice as she moves off.
Olivius ignores the snide woman as he strides toward the tower. He was used to wearing his armor all day, but it did tend to make him a little slower than most normal people assumed he would be.
When he arrives he takes a good look at the situation before continuing.
"Fligg can go in and look around. He's expendable," Trig says mischievously as they approach the tower. "Besides that, he's really sneaky and can let me know in real time what he's seeing inside."
Fligg narrows his eyes and punches Trig in the shoulder, but he doesn't really have a counter for her truth. "Aye, I can't really be permanently harmed on this plane. It should probably me that takes the initial peek."
Fightring back an eyeroll (and failing), Horatio follows Olivius, clutching his violin in his left hand. A whistle escapes his lips as he looks over the collapsed tower. "Well. This can't be good."
As the group arrives on the site of the collapsed building, Fligg having dashed off on his own before they quite get to it, they can see two familiar people poking around the rubble, as if they have no idea what to do. They are two of the Sheriff's deputies, but they are the two that did not chase down Silas, just stood about like bumps on logs.
An enormous heap of cracked stone and splintered wood from the tower lies in a low mound here, tumbled partially down the hill to the southeast. The mound of rubble forms a natural ramp that leads up to the now-exposed second floor of the tower above.
The other notable thing is the large crowd that has formed as the group arrives. Everyone staring and murmuring. The words "Hunclay" and "Kobolds" can be heard over and over again.
The main door to the tower does seem to be in place, despite all the damage, though opening might be a problem.
Fligg heads up the ramp to take a look. He will remain hidden if possible.
Feora gasps at seeing the collapsed tower. She reflexively grabs the holy symbol made of iron that is hanging around her neck, and mutters a quick prayer.
"Solis domina fac te."