Breaca hopped easily off the wagon with the others. She took a moment to watch the people milling about, getting a general sense of things before setting off into the crowd. The scent of fruit and meat pies were making her mouth water and her stomach rumble.
Half-eaten pie in hand, she was wandering past when she sees Merwyn's stall. "It was a good story. Hopefully you will get the chance to finish it." She offers a pie to both Merwyn and Kalig and listens with obvious interest as Horatio begins.
"Don't mind if I do, thank you!" She stuffs her face with the pie.
"I hope so too, maybe some other time I will get the chance."
Horatio opens his eyes, and seems pleasantly surprised to see so many of his cart-mates watching him. He nods briefly to each in turn, weaving the dips into his swaying, before taking a few steps forward and knocking Merwyn's hat a few inches toward the back of her head with a carefully-timed movement of the bow. His grin suggests no malice, just a bit of fun.
He finishes the jig, and drops swiftly into a deep bow, drawing a small smattering of applause from the few nearby townsfolk. "Show me a real stage, and I'll show you something worth applauding," he mutters under his breath, but his smile never falters. "Well, I could play some more," he says, louder now, "but I don't hear anybody who really wants it! Does anyone want more?" He's grinning now, a seasoned performer milking his crowd. He notes the obvious interest of Breaca, and points his bow at her. "What about you, m'lady?" he asks, one eyebrow raised. "Perhaps you have a request?"
Merwyn claps her tiny hands together to make the little pitter-patter sound of gnomish applause at the conclusion of the jig.
"Isn't this such a wonderful festival?" she says to no one in particular.
An assault of song, sounds and words caught the fugitive from Magnimar by surprise, as he exited the cart. As he got a better view of what was outside, Veryl's sharp eyes were filled with the sight of crowds, entertainers and merchants, among many, many more. The black haired man hasn't anticipated that this many people would be here, but this was a pleasant surprise; the more people about him the more he could blend in and avoid capture. Veryl wasn't a vengeful person by nature, but the thought of seeing his former teacher's face twist anger made something within him flutter with happiness.
Veryl turned in time to see the beginning of the blond gnome's performance, it was an entertaining show, the use of dolls wasn't something he had seen before when he accompanied his old employer to a stage or performance. The cliffhanger she had left the crowd's with brought a smile to his face She's clever Seeing a number of his one time traveling companion's approach her, he waited until she seemed unoccupied and placed a gold coin into her small palms.
"You'll get another if I like the ending" Said Veryl as he turned and walked away, his eyes caught Horatio setting up for his own show, and had stayed off within listening distance as he looked about his surroundings. Seeing a man that appeared mostly unoccupied by the festivities, the 6 foot tall man approached him with neutral, unhurried steps.
"Excuse me but have you seen an elf coming through here a few months ago? She has platinum blond hair, her skin is tanned and she has a small scar over her right eye" Inquired Veryl, his voice smooth and his tone unconcerned. While it would be nice to have someone from his past to talk to, finding Mel wasn't exactly a priority to the black haired man.
Merwyn clasps her palms together in appreciation. "Are you sure that you want to leave so soon? Surely there's time for a little music."
She calls to the violinist. "Do you happen to know any Gnomish musical ballads?"
Kalig nods with thanks but waves away the pie Breaca offers her, as she is still munching on her own sweet, but seeing the gnome take the one offered her so gleefully, Kalig points at Merwyn and says, "Perhaps she'd like more."
She nods in time to Horatio's jig. She opened her ears, and let other sounds come in, welcoming the sound the birds in the background and the wind's whistle along with his music, listening for where the rhythms came together and enjoying the symphony she imagined in her mind.
When the others begin to separate later, she seeks out to see if there is a shrine set up for the equinox--it is also harvest time after all, and perhaps a place set up for offerings.
"Gnomish ballads... well, it's not a style I'm familiar with - there aren't too many gnomes where I come from. But I did meet one in a tavern once, a fellow performer, and she taught me this." He starts playing again, a smoother, sweeter melody, one that speaks of secret groves and magic that lies hidden. He doesn't play it for long, cutting it off after a minute. "I'm afraid she never had time to teach me the rest," he shrugs apologetically. "And if nobody else wants that pie, I'll give you a song for it," he adds with a chuckle.
He notes the obvious interest of Breaca, and points his bow at her. "What about you, m'lady?" he asks, one eyebrow raised. "Perhaps you have a request?"
Breaca blinks, taken a bit by surprise at being singled out of the crowd. She scans her memories, trying to think of a suitable song, but is saved for the moment by the enthusiastic gnome's request for a ballad. THankful for the reprieve she listens to the strange but lovely tune, using the opportunity to come up with a request of her own.
"And if nobody else wants that pie, I'll give you a song for it," he adds with a chuckle.
"It's a deal. Do you know Wind that shakes the Willow?" She hands him the pie, regardless of his response.
"I know the first verse," he says with a wink. "But it's a bit too deep to drag the mood down with, wouldn't you say? Who would want to hear a song of love lost on a day of such joyous celebration?" He takes the pie, continuing after a couple of bites. "Perhaps if I can find a tavern who needs a performer tonight, I'll sing it. Just for you." He glances up, checking the position of the sun, trying to estimate how far away noon is.
At noon, Father Zantus and his acolytes wheel a large covered wagon into the square, and after recounting the short parable of how Desna first fell to earth and was nursed back to health by a blind child whom she transformed into an immortal butterfly as a reward for her aid, they pull aside the wagon's cover, releasing the thousand children of Desna – a furious storm of swallowtail butterflies that swarm into the air in a spiralling riot of color to a great cheer from the crowd.
Throughout the rest of the day, children futilely chase butterflies, never quite quick enough to catch them.
Lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint's taverns. Each brings its best dishes to some tables that have been placed in front of the stage. Clearly the inns hope to win new customers as much as they want to feed a hungry crowd. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch is, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry- spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadows the other offerings, such as the Hagfish's lobster chowder or the White Deer's peppercorn venison.
As Zantus releases the swallowtails, Kalig's stoic frown dissolves into an open-mouthed smile of childlike wonder. She looks up, watching the cloud of color disperse itself over the town, and the children give chase. In her mind she is taken back to her earliest youth, chasing butterflies and watching insects for hours as they performed their strange, miniscule labors.
After a few moments, her thoughts go from past to present, and she closes her eyes as she mouths a prayer:
Go, Desna's children, across this earth, and drink of the world's nectar--and make flowers fertile, so that seed time will come again.
She opens her eyes to see a swallowtail has lighted at the edge of her sleeve, slowly fanning its wings. She admires its beauty a moment, staying stock still so as not to disturb it.
About 30 feet away, a toe-headed child spots the butterfly resting on the robed woman's arm, and he charges forward, only to come up short as he spots Kalig's grey, fearsome face under the robe. The swallowtail flutters away as the child stands and gapes. Kalig straightens and looks at the boy, smiles a toothy grin, and whispers, "Boo."
He "eeps" and runs off. Moments later he is chasing butterflies again, the monstrous encounter forgotten.
Promising scents of food draw Kalig away once again, although the popular lunch offered by Kaijitsu---wasn't that also the surname of the gentleman who had fallen ill---sounds not to her taste. Why ruin good salmon by seasoning it so much? She opts for the White Deer instead, as venison and pepper sounded a more appealing combination.
At the release of the storm of color filled tiny wings, the man got distracted before he could give Veryl any real answer, the bastard sword wielder considered making a more 'forceful' inquiry but saw little reason to go that far; if Mel was in this town he was bound to meet her sooner or later. Sighing as he dodged a couple of children who were clearly not focused on anything but their tiny prey, the well dressed man then began walking among the crowds trying to get a feel of this place that he could possibly come to call home, the smiles and care free nature of these kids was at such a contrast with his own childhood that he just couldn't help but remember these trying times in his life.
Definitely some kids in this town who aren't as happy as others, but with food being given away for free who wouldn't be happy? Veryl stopped at a few stalls, tried to peak at any alleyways he could find use for in the future and then he returned to Horatio's place of performance, he reasoned that if there was little to do, he should at least entertain himself, and being around interesting people was certainly one way to achieve that.
As he got closer to the source of string produced melodies, he felt someone follow him, he stared at the would be stalker with the back of his eye and found a kid trying to keep up with his longer strides. Veryl turned around swiftly slightly frighting the child.
"Yes?" Asked the former guard, his voice completely neutral. He could see that the boy was eying his sheathed sword, but decided to hear what the child would choose to say.
It was then that the boy noticed a butterfly fly between them and elected to chase after it then stand around in awkward silence. Veryl sighed once more before he rejoined his former traveling companions and the crowd that was still surrounding Horatio.
As the swallowtails launched themselves into the air, the blanket-covered creature following Merwyn begins to tug on her robes. "Are you sure that you're all better?" More tugging. "No, you can't come out from under there. Here, have some food."
*tug tug*
Merwyn crawls under the blanket and stays there for half a minute, before crawling back out to watch the show.
Horatio ceases his performance when Father Zantus begins to speak, out of both respect and an unwillingness to have to compete with anything. The parable is one he knows well - the Varisians back in Bridgefront had been quite fond of telling it, as it was one of the few things that had given them hope in such a miserable place. An old thought began to surface in his mind, and he pushed it down - there was a time and place for brooding, and this was neither.
When the butterflies are released, he stares after them, eyes wide, mouth slightly open - the whirlwind of colour is unlike anything he's seen. He quickly regains his composure, however, and begins playing another piece, reminiscent of the fluttering of their wings. One of the butterflies alights on the scroll of his violin, drawing a smile from him.
Finishing this piece, he pauses to sit for a few moments, beckoning a small girl over from the crowd. "Here," he says quietly, picking a few silver pieces out of his violin case. "You can have these, if you go fetch me some lunch and a drink from that lovely woman over there, alright?" He points to Ameiko, and the girl nods. "Oh, and if you'd be so kind as to give her this..."
He rummages in his pack for a moment before producing ink, a pen, and a blank journal. He tears a page from the back and writes a quick note with an offer to perform at the tavern later that evening, and the hope that she was as generous and kind as she was beautiful. Not my best line, but better than nothing... He folds the note, hands it to the girl along with 3 sp, and watches as she runs off.
Still seated, he grins as he notices the well-dressed man from the caravan approaching. "Well, well. Come to evaluate me further, have you?" he asks with a pleasant smile.
"Well, well. Come to evaluate me further, have you?"
The calm mask remained unchanging when Veryl turned to face the performer "No, I am simply here to enjoy the performance. Your playing and especially your instrument remind me of my home and my old job, and while I had little love for the position I held, there were some perks to it" Replied Veryl, his tone of speech was still unchanging from the way he was taught to speak in all the etiquette lessons he took.
While at first the black haired fugitive was more focused on his conversation with the bard, that attention turned to Merwyn when she dove into a blanket that was unnaturally held above the ground There is something you don't see everyday Thought Veryl before noticing two kids running his way; one of them cleanly passed in front of him with no incident, but the second slammed into his cloak, causing it to come over the boy's head and blind him momentarily, but these moments were enough to make him lose sight of the butterfly he was chasing.
"Your stupid rug made me lose the butterfly" Shouted the short haired boy at the tall man's back.
This boy clearly has more guts than sense Veryl chose to ignore the complaints of the green eyed lad but was surprised when he felt a small amount of force pulling at his cloak. Only turning his head, Verly's hazel eyes caught sight of the boy who stubbornly pulled at the item of clothing that he earlier slammed into and was demanding an apology.
Veryl felt a pang of annoyance within himself, he wanted nothing more than to punt the little brat a few feet away, but knew that such an action was best never considered seriously. The boy's shouts were already attracting a few eyes and ears, and that limited Veryl's options severly; intimidating the boy even without words was now out of the question, the last thing he needed was any kind of trouble in a town that could very well become his new home, and of course tugging back at his cloak and watching the boy tumble and fall for losing the heavily skewed test of strength was also risky This cloak isn't exactly cheap the black haired man knew that there was little 'he' could do, but the other people around him...that was another case entirely.
His first option was Horatio, but that idea was quickly rejected, because he felt that the last thing the bard would want to do was handle a loud brat He's more likely to punt him than I would Veryl mentally smiled before turning to look at his second option.
"Story-teller" the man with the goatee raised his voice to grab the attention of the blond gnome, but did his best to keep any annoyance he felt out of it. If he got her attention he would point at the brown haired boy who refused to release the piece of clothing he was holding hostage.
Merwyn emerges from under the blanket and hears the goateed man, seeing him point to the child. "Is something the matter?" she says, addressing both the imposing man and the little boy standing next to him.
The boy begins with a torrent of accusations that all centered around how Veryl was the sole reason he lost track of the butterfly he was chasing, if people heard his side of the tale without hearing the other, they'd assume that Veryl was some thug who got his enjoyment out of ruining the joy of small children. The black haired man remained silent and kept a blank look on his face, his chance to talk without being interrupted would soon come.
After what seemed like an hour to Veryl but what was really just less the minute the boy ran out of breath and was forced to choose between breathing and speaking, and Veryl was almost surprised the little chatterbox chose the former "First let me thank you for coming here despite having no claim in this argument what so ever" Began the former guard his thank you sounding very genuine, before leaning down and bringing himself closer to the gnome's ear "It would be a great help, if you could somehow convince the boy to let go of my cloak and be on his way" He whispered, Veryl only desired to be free of the situation without the need to draw further attention but honestly he wouldn't mind seeing Merwyn place the boy under the control of some arcane technique, of course he would never admit that.
Merwyn nods and walks away
to cast silent image. (DC 19 if they touch it to disbelieve)
A "butterfly" swoops past the boy's face and circles around him until he begins to chase it, before it starts to fly away just out of his reach, towards one of the real butterflies.
Merwyn returns to the man. "Well that was fortunate. That butterfly saved you a lot of trouble, didn't it?"
Horatio watches with amusement as the scene with the butterfly unfolds. "Indeed, that was most convenient." His raised eyebrows suggest he picked up on the trick, but he doesn't comment on it.
After seeing Merwyn nod, Veryl was relieved, but as he stood upright once more and saw the blond gnome walk away, confusion gained a foothold within him Did I misjudge her personality? Wondered the black haired man as he turned to look at the boy and was resolved to try some less than savory methods even if they will draw further attention, but then he notices a butterfly capturing the boys attention and dragging him away by the invisible line that is desire.
Merwyn returns to the man. "Well that was fortunate. That butterfly saved you a lot of trouble, didn't it?"
When Merwyn returned and spoke those words to him Veryl understood what had just occurred and offered the arcane wielder a small smile "Thank you again" He began as he shook his cloak, in an attempt to straighten it out "While I enjoy the sight of brats pulling at my expensive cloak, I am glad that you were able to 'convince' him to leave" He continued, his sarcastic comment was made in a more jovial tone, then he held her right hand as his instructor in noble behavior taught him to; keeping the back of Merwyn's hand upward and gently wrapping his fingers around her palm, as he prepared himself for a more formal greeting.
"I don't believe we were properly introduced, my name is Veryl Melthid" Started the former guard, reasoning that a more respectful, if too formal greeting would be more appreciated than a more typical one that would most likely betray his thuggish beginnings "It seems that my cloak and I owe you a debt" He continued, his tranquil voice was mixed with a more courteous tone of speech that he hoped would show his gratitude.
Merwyn notices the hand gesture and smirks. "Being overly polite can tell more about a person than not being polite at all, Mr. Melthid." She laughs. "I've learned that the hard way. Merwyn. Merwyn Dreamweaver."
"Hard learned lessons usually come with an interesting tale, I'll look forward to hearing it" Replied Veryl as he unclasps Merwyn's hand from his own as gently as he grasped hold of it a moment ago.
The six foot tall man shuffled his shoulders slightly, then turned his attention to the crowd that surrounded Horatio who appeared to be resting or simply enjoying the sights, Veryl's hazel eyes also located the dark haired woman they had been with on the cart Looks like I am not the only one who kept close to more familiar faces finally he faced Merwyn once more.
"So have you come seeking an audience? Like our friend here" He pointed to Horatio with his thumb "Or are there other reasons behind your arrival to this town?" Continued Veryl.
"I came to meet the religious authority of this town, but it doesn't seem like today is terribly ideal for that." Reminded of Horatio, Merwyn turns away from Veryl momentarily and towards Horatio. "I think this belongs to you." She returns the gold coin that Horatio gave her earlier and comes back to Veryl. "I think I've told enough of my life story. How about some of yours?"
A small smile drew itself on Veryl's face, causing the single scar that ran from his jawline to the center of his cheek to shift slightly. His eyes appeared distracted for but a moment before they refocused on the inquiring gnome before him "You've heard most of it on the way here; I was an apprentice for a weapon smith, who taught me many things about weapons and he also indirectly taught me a hard lesson about loyalty, after that I grasped at an opportunity and found myself among the ranks of personal guards of a minor noble house" the hazel eyed fugitive once more left certain parts of his history unsaid "A few years later, my employer lost his home and I lost my job, but I was looking for an excuse to leave so I wasn't as sad as one would expect" Veryl's smile widened Sad? I could barely hold back my laugh when I got the chance to escape He mentally commented to himself as he pulled at the hems of his gloves.
"Sandpoint appeared to be as good a town as any, so here I am" Spoke the former guard, as he watched a few more children run by him and the blond gnome "Such a carefree atmosphere...I doubt its always this way" Stated Veryl as his eyes took in festive mood the people around him were in.
Horatio takes the coin back with a bow, but slips it back into Merwyn's hat-band while she isn't looking. He glances back over his shoulder, seeing that the small girl he paid has reached the front of the Rusty Dragon's lunch line and is handing the note to Ameiko, pointing over at him. He catches Ameiko's eye and stands, bowing in her direction. Enough rest. The show must go on...
He takes a swig of mead when the girl brings it back to him, and hands her another silver piece in thanks. She runs off giggling, and the bard looks at Breaca with a smile. "Now. Wind that Shakes the Willow, wasn't it?"
As Kalig wanders through the town, watching the butterflies disperse and munching on skewered venison, she espies Miro, looking up and down the streets as he tries to track down his friend.
"You look like you are chasing something bigger than a butterfly," she observes. "Strinder, wasn't it?"
Miro glances at the half-orc, then continues looking through the crowd "Please, call me Miro. Kalig, right? And yes, I'm afraid I have no idea where my business friend is. He normally stays in a room in that inn, but it's vacant right now. Normally he tells me before he leaves town, and on top of that he hasn't sent me any letters at all for weeks" Miro's face gets cross as he looks around at all the people towering above him "Not like I could see over this crowd without climbing on a rooftop anyways"
"Maybe so, Veryl, but good things always come to an end, so might as well take the time to enjoy them." Merwyn starts an awkward-looking partner dance with the creature hiding under the blanket and then goes into a traditional gnomish dance, which involves whirling around until the dancer falls over.
He takes a swig of mead when the girl brings it back to him, and hands her another silver piece in thanks. She runs off giggling, and the bard looks at Breaca with a smile. "Now. Wind that Shakes the Willow, wasn't it?"
Breaca gives a small smile and a slight inclination of her head. "Yes, please. That has long been one of my favorites." She turns as the serving girl scampers by, catching her by the sleeve. [b]Bring Ale next time you pass by." She smiles at the girl and tosses her a coin then settles into her seat to listen to Horatio's rendition.
** spoiler omitted **
The space that Sandpoint occupies is currently hosting three times the level of people it was built for.
However, at a quieter point early in the afternoon - when people have spread a little wider into the town - Miro's patience is rewarded as a drably dressed man moves within earshot and sits beside the hafling.
"Sorry it's taken so long to get to you. Finding you in this crowd was a challenge. If you were an elf, it might have been a little easier." There was clearly no malice in the height-related comment - merely his way of explaining the fact of the matter.
"I'm not sure what I have for you. There are so many rumours buzzing around at the moment, and all this fuss about the church on top. What I can tell you is that the goblins have been acting wierdly recently. And with goblins, that's not always easy to tell!" He simles at his own joke.
"No, they've become bolder, maybe even braver. Either they're up to something, or someone is up to something and using them. I've been digging for some while but that's all I have for you at present. It may be connected to what you're interested in - maybe not. As soon as I have more, I'll be in touch."
And with that, he simply stood up and left.
As dusk approaches, you have broadly ended up at the same place at the same time as locals have told you that the final part of the ceremony was due to start at this time in front of the church.
Finally, as the sun begins to set, a sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun's setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep jumps awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage.
He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman's scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises - high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human.
The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices. It is certainly melodic but with an eerie undertone that sends shivers down your spines.
Goblins chew and goblins bite,
Goblins cut and goblins fight,
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!
Goblins race and goblins jump,
Goblins slash and goblins bump,
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!
Chase the baby, catch the pup,
Bonk the head to shut it up!
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We the goblins—you the food!
For those of you that can access sound files (I'll not risk embedding in the text this time around - https://www.dropbox.com/s/1z2o30l9fd6o2jn/goblinsong.mp3
Horatio nods to Breaca, closing his eyes, running over the song in his mind for a few moments. He taps one hand against his leg for rhythm, then begins singing in a strong, clear voice - not as perfect as his playing, but strangely haunting.
"My love is gone, carried away
by the wind that shakes the willow,
and all the land is beaten hard
by the wind that shakes the willow.
But I will hold her close to me
in heart and dearest memory,
and with her strength to steel my soul,
her love to warm my heart-strings,
I will stand where we once sang,
though cold wind shakes the willow.
I will stand where we once sang,
though cold wind shakes the willow."
His voice begins to shake towards the end, but he strengthens his resolve, and finishes the verse, letting his voice trail off. He closes his eyes for a few moments, head hanging to his chest, then sits to finish his lunch in silence. He doesn't even bow.
---------------------------------------------------------------
As the afternoon wears on, his mood seems to improve a bit. He alternates between playing for coin, spending that coin on various trinkets from the stalls, and subsequently giving them away to attractive ladies that catch his eye, usually accompanied by a smile and a wink. He ends up none the richer by the time the final celebrations roll around, but he seems in good spirits as he stands by the stage, noting his travelling companions all standing in the same general area.
The screams catch his attention at once - a lady screaming is something he's always hated to hear (though to be fair, it was usually in response to a father or spouse Horatio had been unaware of bursting into the room). This was different. This was fear.
His eyes scan the area for any signs of danger, but all he sees is the dog, bleeding out - a sickening sight. The song gets his attention, though, and he groans. "Well, the tune's catchy enough, but there's no real technique to speak of," he mutters, then mentally curses himself for paying attention to music at a time like this.
"Gather 'round, friends," he calls to the others from the caravan. "Sounds like we've got company!"
Miro catches his sleeve before he leaves "At least try to answer my messages next time, even if you're just telling me how the kids are. I was worried about you" He smiles and lets him go, contemplating what he has heard.
Tipped off as he was, Miro watches all the events unfold and quickly gets some height by jumping on a stall.
Kalig offers to walk with Miro as he looks for his friend, as indeed the crowd makes it difficult. She figures it is wiser to help the man with the excellent skills at palming items than showing no sympathy. When he finds his friend, she drifts away quietly.
Later during the evening gathering she frowns as the nearly unseen invaders turn the day's joyous festivities into ruin. She spots the poor dog, not slain for food but for sport, and grumbles low as she releases her flail into her hand and scans the crowd for the invaders.
You clearly see that the shape that raced by and killed the dog now hides at the edge of the wagon—a single goblin, licking the blood from its dogslicer as it looks excitedly at the crowd, seeking out a new target.
"By that wagon, get him!"
The corpse of the dog and the pool of blood it formed on the ground was beheld by his eyes for but a moment before the crowds began shifting and moving, causing him to lose sight of the entire area, but the screams and singing he had heard with no problem, and so he had an idea of what to expect, this didn't mean he liked it. Veryl turned his body slightly, his right foot was kept in the front while the other was shifted to the back. A gloved hand clasped around the hilt of the bastard sword while the other held the ornate sheath in place.
Guards should be here soon, but wouldn't they have fought them at the gate of the town? Maybe they smuggled themselves on one of the carts Veryl looked about himself and saw some of his former cart mates, but still there were no signs of any guards. A blank look came over Veryl's face as he realized that with no guards coming, any battle capable people here were the first line of defense for this town, which was just him and his traveling companions, but against a few goblins? He liked their odds.
Mess up the town I am starting over in? I don't think so, this is my turf now Veryl unsheathed his bastard sword, its metallic hide caught the orange fire of the setting sun and reflected it brilliantly despite its age.
As your eyes were drawn to the evil goblin, you realise he's to alone and three of the critters are now in your vicinity.
Merwyn was always clueless when it came to battle. As the crowd began to dissolve into chaos, Merwyn found safety near the floating blanket and waited breathlessly.
"There's at least three of them!" Kalig looks ready to charge the nearest one.
"I see them." The sound of blade being drawn rasps out and Breaca smiles grimly as she draws her dirk.
Miro stays on his heightened position, yelling out loudly "Three more are here, there, there, and there!" Making sure anybody that wants to help knows where the problem is as well as telling fleeing people where to avoid. He takes his shortbow off and fires at the nearest target.