The sheriff fails to recover his composure and instead looks where Kalig is pointing at the map.
"It's just a back-alley. I'm not aware of any signifiance - in fact, I'm not aware of any obvious entrance to an underground staircase either."
"So what's the plan with Thistletop? It seems like just the six of us couldn't do much to the place. Maybe we should gather some more information?"
"If Thistle is as crawling with the little fiends as what we've learned suggests, then there are only two options that I see presently for us there: scout and gather information, or infiltrate to try to take out the leadership - the latter especially seems a long shot. Not all of us are stealthy, and even fewer short and green." She pauses, looking at the map where Kalig had pointed. The warrioress seems amused at the flustered sheriff, but also didn't feel much pity for him. Kalig had the right of the situation, in her estimation. She looks up from the map, gaze meeting that of the druid. "Seems a good place to start. I'll head to the North and that first spot you marked just to be sure. If I don't find anything there, then the lighthouse seems likely. We can decide from there."
She nods to her companions and heads down the street towards the North.
Breaca leads the way to where the stairs would have led to. You find an unremarkable alleyway - with no sign of where a staircase would have come out. The ground here has not been disturbed in decades.
"You are probably right, Merwyn. We do need to know more. We might be able at least to get close enough to... to survey their situation. First let's see if we can find anything on the north side of town."
Kalig offers to go part of the way with Breaca, inviting the others as well. She would stop a few blocks away so Breaca could move quietly, but if she found trouble, they would not be far off.
Veryl calmly enjoyed his meal, while relished the unusually serene atmosphere of the dragon, he was wondering though how things were developing with the sheriff I'll have to check if they asked him for a reward, clearing those catacombs wasn't easy The fork he held pierced another piece of cut salmon meat Well since they aren't back yet, maybe its about time I started looking for some old friends Upon swallowing the last bite of his dish, Veryl made his way to bar.
"Bethana, in the last six months have you seen an elf with platinum blond hair in Sandpoint? She had a small scar over her right eye"
Bethana considers Veryl's question. "Can't rightly say I have. But if she didn't come in here, I most likely wouldn't have seen her. Sorry. Is she a friend?"
Bethana considers Veryl's question. "Can't rightly say I have. But if she didn't come in here, I most likely wouldn't have seen her. Sorry. Is she a friend?"
"Oh I'd say she is, one of the best kind of friends" The mercenary's voice rang of nostalgia "The kind you can talk with about all the stupid, foolish things you did when you were young and laugh about it at the end of it all" Veryl leaned on the bar tab, his eyes momentarily distracted by his own memories.
"Who would be the person that would know though? A person who's deeply invested in the comings and goings of people through Sandpoint? My first guess would be the sheriff but is there someone else?" Inquired Veryl, his composure now back to its calmer and more stoic stance.
Bethana seems slightly surprised at Veryl's outpouring. "We tend to keep ourselves to ourselves. Inn-keepers show an interest in their customers and the sheriff no doubt does the same - but having enough spare time to keep an eye on everyone? Who'd have so little to do? I reckon your best bet is to ask around. That's what I'd do."
Presuming Breaca reports back what she finds, Kalig furrows her brow. "I thought they had come in through there from somewhere. Or would have used the catacombs as passage." She shakes her head. "I am at a loss," she finishes simply, and waits for someone else to suggest the next move.
"It sounds like Thistletop's the place to go," Horatio mutters, brow furrowing in concern. "Sheriff, would you be willing to have a few of your men patrol the catacombs? Maybe board up and barricade what you can, just in case anything gets out?" He sighs as he looks at the map, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I don't much like the idea of marching into a den of the little bastards, but we may not have much choice."
"I thought the same, but unless we've missed an area down there, it doesn't seem it is so. We could go and search the lighthouse. Beyond that, I too am at a loss. Perhaps something further will turn up once the stairways are cleared? Otherwise, a trip to Thistletop is my only other suggestion."
Bethana seems slightly surprised at Veryl's outpouring. "We tend to keep ourselves to ourselves. Inn-keepers show an interest in their customers and the sheriff no doubt does the same - but having enough spare time to keep an eye on everyone? Who'd have so little to do? I reckon your best bet is to ask around. That's what I'd do."
"I guess I'll give the sheriff a visit then" Replied Veryl as he made his way to where he lined up his swords"Thank you for the meal" With those words he collected his swords and made his way to the door.
Veryl enjoyed the lack of activity on the streets, he nodded to whatever passerby recognized him as one of the heroes of Sandpoints but for the most part he kept to himself as he walked to the sheriff's dwelling I wonder how the others faired with their report to the sheriff In his head an image of Kalig holding the man by the collar while she shook him like a rag doll and proceeded to list all of his failings appeared and it made him smile broadly, a smile he tried very hard to hide once he was in front of the sheriff's building.
"Sheriff Hemlock" Greeted the swordsman as he entered the man's base of operations, his grin still lingering on his facade.
Once they return to the sheriff's office and have this conversation, Kalig has had some time to think and replies, "I agree the stairways need to still be cleared--so sheriff, if you could send your men there as you agreed? It will tell the city where the original owners of the catacombs operated out of, these Runelord worshippers." Kalig stretched. "It is late afternoon. However we decide to tackle Thistletop, it may be better to wait until morning. So there is time search the lighthouse, as Breaca says. I think the priest wanted to hear more about our findings as well."
As Veryl enters, Kalig looks up, then around him. "Good of you to join us. Where is the halfling? Or have his dangerous pursuers caught up with him?"
"Last I saw he had no blades sticking in him, in fact he was about to stick his own blades in a delicious dish of salmon" Answered the late arriving swordsman as he walked casually to the table the others were huddled around.
"Have you all decided our next course of action? Or are we still in the midst of debates and strategies?" Asked Veryl, his eyes giving the map a fleeting look before turning towards the sheriff and his companions.
Kalig summarizes recent events and asks Veryl if he has any ideas.
There stood Veryl, arms crossed in front of his chest and his face bearing inscrutable mask that was equally reflected in eyes that seemed content enough to stare at the speaker but not with as much focus as one would expect. When Kalig was done with her explanation, the finely dressed man remained motionless, the only change were that now his eyes were staring at the map, after long moments of silence his stare turned serious and almost murderous, his brow furrowed and finally the statue he had become broke its curse of petrification as his arms snaked towards the table and was placed on the edge of the map as he leaned closer.
"So what your telling me is she's feinting, we can see the feint but we are going to try and parry it anyway" No frown could be seen on his face, his mouth freezing at a straight emotionless line "I don't know about you but I don't like being played" He looked to the edge of the map once more and moved a pen that wasn't positioned on a location there.
"Yes the goblins have to be handled, if we could make a show of it maybe the rest won't get any other brilliant ideas" Veryl looked to the middle of Sandpoint on the old yellowing piece of paper "But that doesn't mean we should let Nualia do as she damn well pleases" He tapped the middle of the town with his pointing finger, the small knocking sound from the table filled the gap of his silence.
"I don't know much about magics, the arcane and sorcery, but I know how to fight and if she's trying to distract us, I say we pay her back the same way" Veryl paused once more, his hand coming to his goatee "If there is a way to disrupt magics or rituals, I say its high time we talked to anyone who could know how...so any experts on the arcane in Sandpoint?" He ended his suggestion with a question and just as he was about to walk away from the table he stopped in his tracks, remembering the history lesson Savah had given him when he was at her shop.
"Oh and sheriff, I've heard this from one of the people of Sandpoint..." With those words Veryl begins retelling the two tales Savah had told him of, making sure to keep her out of this Can't have the woman get in trouble for helping me He thought as he concluded the two painful pieces of Sandpoint histories.
"If you know anything more about these two events now is the time talk, the sweet little girl who everyone thought was dead coming back with rituals and demons? And a mad killer building a twisted monument out of tongues and eyes? There is a connection in this somewhere and if we learn more of what happened back then it will help us in finishing the towns problems with Nualia...well to be honest that will probably help us in cornering her, its after I run her through that your problems with her will come to an end" The black haired man patted the sheath of his bastard sword as if he was patting the head of a favored pet.
The sheriff looks long and hard at Veryl. "What is your point? These are history as far as the people of Sandpoint are concerned. My predecessor died as part of the bloodshed you describe. Who would have figured a link at the time to demon worship? Back to your colleague's previous point, do you see this as my work or do you want a free hand?"
"Don't test my competence too far, less I investigate what may have brought you to Sandpoint."
He looks at no-one in particular and his voice is not overtly threatening but there is an underlying steel in his tone.
You can tell the sheriff is getting tetchy now. You are criticising him openly and he is a respected figure in Sandpoint - with important allies.
Ah yes look into my reasons for being here, no I'll save you time just bind me and drop in front of my former teacher's door step why don't you? Or better yet use me as live bait for your goblins that would save even more time! You ignorant, foolish, useless.... Veryl stopped giving attention to his dark thoughts here, he knew that how he felt about the sheriff now was of little importance, that there were more pressing matters for them to handle "I am not interested in testing you sheriff, I would gain nothing from it" Replied Veryl calmly, his expression and mannerisms unreadable beyond the almost aloof veil he placed at his front "If you have nothing to add on the two cases I've learned about, then tell me where I can find an expert on the arcane in Sandpoint and I'll trouble you no further" At least until I gain some influence in town, you better hope you shape up before then or I'll have you replaced by someone with more competence and not to mention more respect towards people who are essentially doing your job for you Added Veryl mentally before stepping away from the table.
Horatio pinches the bridge of his nose, letting a soothing canon play in his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. When he feels calm, he opens them again, fixing them upon Veryl. "In case you've forgotten, Tstuo said that Nualia was using Thistletop as her base of operations. I should know - I was the one who got that information out of him." Even though the rest of you debated my methods, and it's a barley-blasted wonder it even worked after that stunt you pulled. He looks over the map, shaking his head. "None of this means anything. We have exactly one lead, and we need to take it. If the rest of you want to check out the Old Light, go ahead, but me? I'm wounded, I'm out of magic, Rosaline won't sing anymore, and I'm half-sure my fiddling fingers are blistering - not to mention I could use a thrice-damned drink. You're welcome to go on without my dead weight, but my own personal suggestion? We approach Thistletop tomorrow morning. For now, we rest up, and try to relax." As he speaks this last, his eyes pass over each of his teammates in turn, lingering on no-one in particular.
With that, he turns to Hemlock, holding his hand out in a gesture of peace. "Thank you for your help, Sheriff, and I appreciate your patience in dealing with us. I further wish to apologze for the tactlessness my colleague has displayed in opening old wounds for you. Should you wish to look into my reasons for being here, I'm sure you'll find them perfectly legitimate - all I wanted was an audition." Smothering the note of bitterness that rises in his voice, he turns on his heel and heads back to the Rusty Dragon, not looking back.
The sheriff looks to Veryl. "Father Zantus is your man in matters arcane. There's no-one else I'd listen to on the subject. You talk of cases in a strange way. Things happen, we do our best to keep order and by the gods' grace we carry on.
To Horatio..."I can only thank you all for your help. This is no city with a large garrison of battle-hardened soldiers. The occasional theft or marital dispute is all we tend to have to deal with. Once in a while a couple of goblins cause mischief - but that's it. I meant no harm by my outburst. It's just that people only tend to come here because they're passing through or running from something. I apologise if I caused any offence."
"If you were concerned about your wounds, you should have said something when I asked earlier, Horatio." Kalig hands him one of her remaining goodberries.
She inhales deeply. "I think we are all agreed at this point on Thistletop. The matter remains of how to approach it. Let us sleep on it, and discuss it at sunrise with clearer heads. For now, I think I will take a look at the Old Light, out of curiosity, if nothing else. Veryl, I think, has volunteered to talk to Zantus."
Veryl of course did not actually do so, but that is how Kalig has chosen to put it.
Kalig pushes herself up from the table and leaves.
"Hah! Good one Kalig; lets send our swordsman to look for a solution to our arcane problems" Veryl gave a soft clap as Kalig exited the room, then followed after her.
"Well lets hear another jest, its been a long day in those catacombs and honestly I could use a good laugh" Said the fugitive from Magnimar as he walked next to his half-orc companion, his tone sounding a lot more jovial when compared to how its been when he was talking with the sheriff.
Breaca followed Kalig and Veryl from the meeting with the sheriff on their way presumably to the Old Light. She remained silent during the walk, as seemed to have become her tendency of late. The old familiar itch between her shoulder blades that she often got when anticipating a fight was back, spreading and keeping her from much of a jovial mood. As she walked, she looked up to the sky, smelling the air and narrowing her eyes at...nothing obvious to be seen. At length she spoke briefly. "After we've seen the Old Light we should go and speak with the priest. Or at least Kalig and hopefully Merwyn should. I"ll go as well, but I doubt I'd be any more use there than Veryl."
"Well if we get attacked while we are there we'd at least be close full strength as far as numbers go" Veryl turned his face in the direction of the usually quiet ranger "In all honesty I would have preferred to discuss other things with the sheriff, but he's in one of his delightful moods, you wouldn't happen to know why, would you Breaca?" Asked Veryl, his usual sarcasm revealing itself from its hiding place.
Breaca reckons tomorrow will be a typical autumn day - bright, a little breezy and with the chance of a shower or two.
You make your way to what was clearly once a lighthouse. Now, it just looks like an ancient ruin.
You could only guess at the original height of this tower, but you suspect it would have been measured in the hundreds of feet. Now only crumbling remains are left, some hundred to two hundred feet high - built into the face of a 120-foot-tall cliff.
You poke around but find nothing of interest. As you go to leave, some locals come up - primarily to thank you for your efforts with the goblins and at the Glassworks.
"Do you think there's a link to the Old Light?" one asks, clearly surmising that you haven't come sight-seeing. "Perhaps old Brodert was right after all!" His friends nod in agreement, albeit half-heartedly.
"Nature has taught its ways to me, not magic. Horatio and Merwyn are the ones gifted in arcane knowledge," Kalig replies to Breaca before turning to Veryl, in her usual, matter-of-fact tone. "For that matter, the priest is an expert, and we could learn from him. I figured you at least capable of listening, Veryl. Forgive me if I was wrong."
Kalig spends a good deal of time in quiet contemplation as they explore the Old Light--to her it is everything of interest, if irrelevant to the current mission. It is a symbol of the balance she wants to try to help maintain, between wilderness and civilization. And it is a reminder that all such things fall, and new things grow and build around them once more. They look awhile and she is ready to leave when the others are.
Kalig raises an eyebrow at the locals' incursion and is annoyed by their hooking everything they do to heroics. Do they not understand she and the others did what anyone with a modicum of sense and guts would do? More to the point, do they not understand they might just like to go for a walk? "Big rocks pretty," she says to them, putting on her "dumb half-orc show." Veryl or Breaca could ask about Brodert if they wished.
"I'm not sure that we should be looking for an arcane expert, but rather one gifted in the divine. Father Zanthus should suffice for both, regardless."
Merwyn shrugs. "All of this ritual seems to be a bit like hocus-pocus to me, or just a layman's disguise for what's really going on."
"Hah! Well done, that went past my guard completely" Smirked Veryl as he continued on their way to the old light house "I should give you a few fencing lessons, you'd make a fine swordsman" The joke was free of malice, the only change in the warrior's voice was that it sounded more uplifted than usual.
The ruin that the people of Sandpoint called 'the Old Lighthouse' disappointed Veryl on many levels, he could see that thing could have been a lighthouse in the past, but looking at this rubble it was a wonder they didn't mistake it for anything else I wonder what happened to this place Veryl touched one of the still standing walls and gave it a closer look Almost reminds me of the old ruins in Magnimar...except not as breath taking Before he could study this ruined site any further, Veryl took notice of the new arrivals.
Before he could reply to them, his eyebrows raised as he heard Kalig speak in a way he had never thought he'd ever hear her speak, if he hadn't known her and hadn't just taken a verbal jab from her he would have fell for whatever act she was putting up to those people This is unexpected to say th least He commented mentally before turning towards the townspeople.
"Could you tell us where we can find this Brodert?" He asked in a controlled tone of speech.
... I would have preferred to discuss other things with the sheriff, but he's in one of his delightful moods, you wouldn't happen to know why, would you Breaca?"[/b] Asked Veryl, his usual sarcasm revealing itself from its hiding place.
Breaca shrugs, her face studiously neutral. "His town was just raided and it's entirely possible may soon come under more serious attack. I doubt anyone in those circumstances would be of sunny disposition, yes?"
When they arrive at the Old Light, she surveys the ruins with curiosity, picking her way through the rubble. "It must have been something when it was still in one piece."
Her attention is soon distracted as she blinks at Kalig's performance for the townsfolk, then hides the grin that came soon after by turning her back to the small crowd and returning to studying the ruins. When it became clear that they would learn little more and with her own curiosity slated, she returns to the street and waits until the others are finished.
The man points back towards town. "The first building on the right is his."
Nodding to the townspeople curtly, Veryl turns to Breaca and Kalig "Why don't we go and a have a chat with this Brodert? If he has any information on the matter we might as well hear it"
Let's go.
You make your way to what is clearly an ancient building. Knockin on the door, you hear a lot of muttering inside, growing steadily louder until the door is opened,
In front of you is a white-haired, wrinkled man. "Brodert Quink at your service," he offers. "No need to tell me your names. I may be old but I'm not deaf or blind. I suspect you've come about the Old Light. Come in, come in."
The inside is full of books and dust. Every flat surface has a layer of both on them - including the floor. He waves as if to expect you to take a seat.
Part of Kalig is disappointed she gets no reaction from the two men, but as leaving her alone is largely what she wanted, she accepts the result.
She nods to Veryl and follows him and Breaca to Brodert's house.
She enters, and following his invitation, sits down and waits expectantly.
Upon entering a very distinctive and familiar smell entered Veryl's nostrils; it was the smell of old books. Last he had been in a room that could give off such a scent was when he escorted his former employer to his library A week before the fire... He thought with some melancholy as he unconsciously began reading the titles of the books looking for any books on engineering he might have read himself.
Finally he thought he found one that looked at least familiar and upon reaching out to it and just pulling it out part of the way a small cloud of dust slapped him in the face, provoking a light cough from his throat "An impressive collection Mr. Quink...and yes we have come about the Old Light, its hard to think that it was ever a lighthouse when you look on what is left of it today" The image of the lighthouse's corpse was still fresh in the swordsman's mind.
Miro slips in the doorway, stopping to admire the books. If I only had the time. His hand almost reaches out to look at one, but he pulls it back and keeps himself focused. One day.
Miro nods to Veryl's statement, affirming their intentions here.
A smaile plays on the old man's lips that grows wider and wider until he can't contain himself any more. "And there's the rub Veryl. It was never a lighthouse."
"I have spent two decades of my youth studying with dwarven engineers at Janderhoff and three decades as a cataloguer at the Great Library of Magnimar. Yet I am continually baffled and enraged that my learning and obvious intelligence haven’t afforded me more prestige."
"I have been studying ancient Thassilonian ruins for the past several years and I have to admit that I've recently become obsessed with the Old Light. No one believes my theories of course that the tower was once a war machine capable of spewing fire to a range of more than a mile."
"There were no doubt once many of these watch towers and they no doubt fell into the seas during the cataclysm. Only this one remained above the waves, and even it crumbled to less than a quarter of what I estimate as its original height."
"Now Varisian travelers preserved in their oral traditions stories of how ruined towers once cast fire down upon the surrounding lands, but over the generations, these tales evolved. The ruin’s location at the edge of the sea seemed to indicate that it was once a lighthouse, and in time, beams of fire became beams of light. Today, the Varisians view the last Hellstorm Flume as nothing more than an ancient ruined lighthouse, a landmark they call the Old Light."
"You see no record of the tower’s destructive purpose remains in the modern mind, yet clues to its violent legacy will endure - I just haven't found them yet."
The man gasps for breath as this speech was delivered at breakneck speed - as if he'd been dying to have someone listen to his theories for years.
"Honestly, I do not believe it is that far fetched" Replied Veryl to the clearly excited man "If the few books on warfare that I have read has taught me anything its that people will do anything to gain advantage in war, and a tower that spews flame? That sounds like a very powerful card to play in a battle"" Explained the former guard as he walked through the room.
"But in its current state how could it be of use to anyone?" Veryl turned to face their host once more "Unless there is something beneath that pile of rubble?"
"Can you read Thassilonian?" Kalig suddenly interjects.
Merwyn slips quietly into the room and perches herself on a set of old books. She begins to look through the ones closest to her, while keeping an ear out on the conversation.
Brodert listens to Veryl's question. "Do I think it poses a threat now? No - it is more symbolic of what lengths the Thassilonians would go to. Heaven forbid they should ever resurface in Varisia. Oh, and I doubt there's anything of use beneath the ruins."
"Oh and yes, of course I can read Thassilonian."
Kalig notices Merwyn slip in and waves her over. "Do you have that book we found in the round room?"
Merwyn slips off the precarious stack of books she was sitting on and brings it over to the scholar. "Yeah, it's right here. I don't think it's in Thassalonian...at least not any variety that I have read before, but a second opinion is always useful."
Brodert takes the book, handling it with utmost care. He caresses the cover and spine before leafing through the pages.
"The young lady is quite right, quite right. The book is a magically preserved and ancient prayer book dedicated to the worship of Lamashtu, the Mother of Monsters. It's written in Abyssal."
"You might say it's a bestiary of the world’s most horrific and cruel monsters and the intricate woodcut illustrations show how they typically kill. The book must be worth at least 100 gp. Where did you get this if I might ask?"
"Would you believe me if I said we found it in the catacombs beneath Sandpoint?" Veryl scanned the collection of tomes and books that Brodert had, his eyes were looking for ones that were particularly concerned with engineering and minerals.
"Fun times were had in those catacombs" He added sarcastically as he focused on the title one of the books in one of the shelves of Brodert's library.
"Out of curiosity is there any mention of rituals in there?" Asked Veryl, as he turned to face their host.
Brodert shook his head. "Catacombs you say? It figures - the sort of thing you might expect from such followers."
"And no, it's very much a bestiary as I said. Father Zantus is probably the best person to ask about rituals."
"I see, we appreciate your help Mr. Quink and if you don't mind I would love to come by later on and possibly brow some of your books on engineering?" Said Veryl as he crossed his arm in front of his chest and walked to the door "If no one else has any further inquiries I say its time we met Zantus"