Kalig nods, looking between Miro and Breaca. "It seems we shall pay for the free hospitality in some way."
She gets up and approaches alongside the others.
"One always does..." Breaca replies with a wry smile as she gets up to follow the two others over to the larger table.
Aldern repeats his offer to accompany him on a boar hunt. "In fact, is there a good reason why we shouldn't go tomorrow?"
Horatio grins to see his flirting so well-recieved, swiftly smothering the expression back into a charming smile. "Well, from what I've seen, there isn't much to do here besides drink, so I'm sure you're one of the more popular people in town. Though I'm sure that's in no small part due to your beauty - your eyes say Tien, but unless I'm mistaken, you have Varisian blood, do you not? An unusal mix."
He takes a mug of something cold and wet someone presses into his hand - stout, judging by the smell - and keeps it at hand as he continues. "Truth be told, it's the theatre that draws me here. I'm a musician - a violinist, to be precise - and I'm hoping to secure an audience with Cyrdak Drokkus. I've heard wonderful things about the theatre here -" ugh, that's almost physically painful to say "- and even though it's far from my beloved Korvosa, I figured every great career has to start somewhere. Perhaps it could begin with a performance here - maybe tonight? I assure you, you wouldn't be disappointed."
Horatio seems as though he go on for a good while yet, but he is summoned to join the others - with a sigh that borders on the dramatic, her turns back to the innkeeper with a sad smile. "In any case, think on my offer. I await your answer." With that, he attempts to kiss the back of her hand, then with a wink and a bow, leaves her to join his companions, his mug of stout in one hand.
He pulls out a chair and sits in one smooth motion, leaning in as the offer is repeated. He drinks as he listens, mulling over the offer. Horses? Foul smelly, ill-tempered beasts? I'd sooner kiss a dwarf than ride a horse. He sighs inwardly, though, deciding that a refusal of the offer would quickly sour the good reputation he seems to be quickly forming. "You make a generous offer, Aldern. I, for one, accept it - and see no reason why we shouldn't arrange it for tomorrow. It sounds like a wonderful spot of fun."
Well, I can't say it wouldn't be good to have a horse beneath me again, and a hunt could be a chance to hone skills. Why not? Breaca muses to herself as Horatio gives his acceptance.
"I will take you up on your generous offer and join you on this hunt. Is there a particular quarry you seek? Or just boar in general?"
Kalig takes Aldern literally, as she joins the conversation, and answers his question.
"There is. Reason. We still don't know why those vermin attacked. What if they come again, and we are not here to stop them? No one else here seems to have the stones to fight them."
At her words, one tavern patron trying to hand Kalig another drink frowns, obviously offended by her words, and turns away. Kalig pays him no heed.
Noticing the unintentional exchange between Kalig and the tavern customer, Veryl couldn't help but crack a smile "You're pretty good at making fiends, Kalig" The sarcastic tone was very evident in Veryl's voice "Still your worries are understandable if a bit excessive, last I heard Sandpoint has been surviving for a while before we came along, and I am sure it can survive one more day without us" Commented Veryl before he turned to face Aldern once more.
"I'll accompany you on your hunt" Said the former guard, his voice a mixture of calmness and confidence.
Horatio motions to the customer turning away from Kalig, indicating that he'll take the drink if it's still on offer. "Veryl's right, you know. The town will be just fine. Goblins are cowardly things; they won't be back for a while yet, if at all."
"They'll come back if something that scares them more than us tells them to."
Kalig chuckles. Most would see me as 'fiend' rather than 'friend.'"
"Actually, I would go on this hunt. if you do not see me as too much a risk to your entertainment. Boar makes for good eating."
And I still think Aldern wants something. May as well stick close.
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully. More free drinks are pressed into your hands and Ameiko won’t hear of Horatio playing in a ‘common inn’. She promises to put in a good word with Cyrdak Drokkus for him however.
The following morning, after a hearty breakfast for those that can stomach food after all that free ale, Aldern accompanies you to the Goblin Squash stables. He then confirms withb the stable owner that he’ll, ”Buy each and evey one of my friends here a horse, or pony, of their choosing. But I must insists the best steed you have available is given to Veryl here – the most heroic hero of Sandpoint.”
In addition to Aldern, he has brought along three manservants for the hunt.
Merwyn feels a bit more concerned on the morning of the boar hunt. "Um, Mr. Aldern sir, is the boar hunt dangerous for the horses? I wouldn't want any of them to get hurt."
Merwyn feels a bit more concerned on the morning of the boar hunt. "Um, Mr. Aldern sir, is the boar hunt dangerous for the horses? I wouldn't want any of them to get hurt."
Aldern looks surprised at the question, but quickly recovers. "No, no. The horses are just the quickest way to get there. We'll hunt on foot. See the whites of their eyes so to speak."
Miro's lip curls Now THAT I would appreciate. He inquires about possibly getting a riding dog, one with a good nose if he can.
Horatio stands in the stables, still blinking away the free drinks of the previous night - breakfast had helped, but not nearly enough. His hair falls in front of his ears in an attempt to hide the small cut on his jaw - shaving while hungover has never ended well before, but an unkempt jawline was far worse than the alternative. He's made sure to wear his armour - or what passes for it: a studded leather vest and vambraces over his puffy (and rumpled) shirt.
He can't resist a smirk at Aldern's comments. He nudges Veryl in the ribs as he walks past him - "And here I was thinking I'd be the one with adoring fans," he winks, before looking over the horses. Ah well. Might as well choose one and get it over with. Nobody's saying I have to keep it, right? But he seems insistent on it being a gift... ah, blast.
Shrugging his pack again for comfort, he begins pacing the stables, whistling a Varisian folk tune under his breath. His fingers itch again, and he's about to give up and take the horse closest to the door when a chestnut mare bumps her nose against his shoulder. He spins to face her, the tune dying on his lips. When the horse snorts in response, he raises an eyebrow and picks up the tune again, taking a step closer. The horse nudges him again, bumping her large head against the side of his own, and he nods decisively.
"I'll take this one," he says with a note of finality, watching as the stablehand begins gathering the appropriate tack. "Does she have a name?" If I must ride an ill-tempered beast, let it at least be one that can appreciate a good tune, he thinks. I must keep some standards, after all.
The stables are identified by the sign above this door that perpetuates one of the greatest fears of the lowly goblin — being trampled underfoot by a horse.
The owner introduces himself as Daviren Hosk and, from what he says, his hatred of goblins is significant. In a somewhat grisly display, over the entrance to the stable’s covered barn is his collection of goblin ears: preserved and nailed to three different rafters, each bearing the goblin’s name burned into the leathery flesh — mostly because Daviren knows that writing down a goblin’s name is one of the worst things you can do to desecrate his memory.
He shakes his head at Miro. "Sorry lad," the tall man says, "but dogs is outside me expertise. Horses yes. Ponies yes. Dogs no." He seems genuinely disappointed he can't help you out.
"Does she have a name?" If I must ride an ill-tempered beast, let it at least be one that can appreciate a good tune, he thinks. I must keep some standards, after all.
Merwyn heads into the stable and greets the owner. "May I see your collection of saddles? I think my old one doesn't fit."
Miro shrugs it off. "Didn't think you would, but it never hurts to ask. My cousin swears by them." He glances up at the ears as he strolls in, but says nothing. He goes down to where the ponies are kept, passing them by. He smiles and pets a few on the nose, stopping at a black dales pony. It stays quiet as he approaches, slowly making its way over. Miro tilts his head curiously. Oh you keep to yourself don't you. Let's get you some fresh air. Miro comes out leading a dark pony with wide hooves and a large tail.
There is a gleam in Daviren's eye at the mention of saddles. "Likes the way ya mind works missy. A mount is only as good as the rider and a rider is only as good as the saddle under 'is ar-, I mean 'is backside." He coughs but recovers his composure quickly.
"What ya lookin' fer? I've got military ones - great for stayin' in the saddle like and I've got riding saddles - prettier by far but less 'elpful to the novice like and I've got one or two special ones. But these would be mighty expensive and that lord type says free horses and tackle but I don't s'pose he'd run to a few thousand gold - even if you did save 'is life. No offense like."
"My advice? See how much you can get," Horatio winks to Merwyn. To Daviren, he adds, "For my part, I'll take a saddle that's more sturdy, easy and comfortable. I don't expect I'll be spending much time in it." Not if I can help it, anyway. Good heavens, what do you even call a horse? he thinks in bewilderment, looking over the mare that now, apparently, belonged to him.
Daviren sees Miro's choice. "You've picked a good 'un there. ‘e’s calm that ‘un, with a kind temperament. And ‘e’s a smart un too, and brave to boot.”
You can tell this is a genuine report of the pony’s abilities and not some sales speak. The pony appears full of energy and power but is simultaneously calm.
"My advice? See how much you can get," Horatio winks to Merwyn. To Daviren, he adds, "For my part, I'll take a saddle that's more sturdy, easy and comfortable. I don't expect I'll be spending much time in it." Not if I can help it, anyway. Good heavens, what do you even call a horse? he thinks in bewilderment, looking over the mare that now, apparently, belonged to him.
Daviren indicates a military saddle to one of his helpers and the horse is equipped with the appropriate tack, adjusted to suit Horatio's height.
Miro takes a mental note of the man and his honesty. Always good to have reliable businessmen. Miro smiles as he runs his hand down the dales neck. "In the stories you always hear of the half wild and spirited horses. I always liked the ones that knew when to buck."
The stable-owner chuckles at Miro's words. "Not quite so sure when's a good time to buck but I know where you're coming' from."
A small smile of genuine pleasure cracks Breaca's features as she moves among the horses, inspecting teeth, running a hand over withers, lifting each foot to inspect the hooves. To anyone paying attention it soon becomes evident that she knew her way around a horse and seemed to have a preference for her mount to be light, quick, and spirited.
After quite some time, she returns to a blue roan mare, inspecting her again and finally walking in front of her and placing her forehead against the horse's. The two spend long moments staring at each other, Breaca bringing her breath to match that of the horse. Let's see how you do, shall we?
She moves to the side and leaps,settling with ease onto the horse's bareback and takes her through a few maneuvers in the stable's corral.
Returning, she grins at the others. Her name is Wynd. Leaning down to pat the horses neck, she whispers to it. "After an old friend of mine."
"I think I am looking for a sturdy military saddle, probably relatively small, but it should be light too. The only thing is, errrr, my mount has, umm, an interesting skeletal structure and doesn't like to stand with his back parallel to the ground. Also he likes to jump when running, and doesn't like having straps right next to the saddle."
"So maybe I need a saddle designed for a mount that likes to lean back a bit, jumps when running, and has straps that wrap more around the mount's body like a harness, rather than constricting around his torso like a band. Do you have one of those?"
Arriving at the stable with Aldern, had Veryl at first subtly shocked by the smell of the place, the only dealings with horses he had in the past was riding next to the driver of the expensive carriage of his previous employer. The wooden structure seemed to hold more horses than its exterior let on, and as they stepped inside the smell only got stronger, but Veryl was distracted from it by the sight of the horses and the compliments of Aldern.
"You're too kind" Replied Veryl, with words that indicated modesty, but with a tone and a smile that was anything but modest A heroic steed for the most heroic of the heroes of Sandpoint He repeated to himself as he asked the stable owner to take him to the best horse in his stable.
In truth Veryl cared for a horse's quality just as much as he knew about them, which was little, but he saw that turning Aldern's offer down could be interpreted as ungrateful and unappreciative, which could very well compromise his chances of finding employment here, especially among the well paying residents of this town, despite all that Veryl couldn't lie about the fact that he was a bit stunned by the gracefulness of the animal before.
The mare had a glorious coat of dark brown with a single white patch on its right foot, the animal had something of a commanding presence about it to go with its natural gracefulness, it didn't buckle at their arrival and simply snorted softly when they approached. The mare's eyes didn't leave them as the stable owner began explaining how she was one of his greatest horses, he talked of how she came from a noble breed that brought the best of speed and endurance. Veryl brought his hand closer to the horse and patted its mane Treasure eh? Funny name for a horse Thought the warrior before he felt a friendly nudge to his ribs.
"And here I was thinking I'd be the one with adoring fans,"
"This is simply one of the outcomes of a successful performance Horatio" Whispered Veryl to the bard "Something I am sure you'll accomplish soon enough, if you take your chances and aim higher" Surprisingly, Veryl's voice was neither sarcastic or overflowing with ego, but was an odd mixture of calmness and seriousness, then Veryl turned to the owner of the stable.
"I see you have quite the hatred for goblins, I do not blame you" Said Veryl to the stable owner, remembering the goblin ears he saw.
Kalig follows the others to the stable, and, tilting her head, watches the horses. The truth was, she liked animals, but always traveled on foot, and knew little of riding. Standing back, watching the others make their decision, she then approaches a plain bay mare, older but still well-muscled with a strong back, who appears to have a patient demeanor.
Casting speak with animals, she asks the horse directly, "Would you mind if I rode you?"
The mare gently stamps one hoof and flickers an ear. Let's go.
Kalig smiles at the horse's willingness, and asks Hosk for assistance in getting her geared up.
She moves to the side and leaps,settling with ease onto the horse's bareback and takes her through a few maneuvers in the stable's corral.
A stablehand looks admiringly at Breaca's horsemanship. "Will you be wanting any tack? A bridle perhaps if not a saddle?"
"I think I am looking for a sturdy military saddle, probably relatively small, but it should be light too. The only thing is, errrr, my mount has, umm, an interesting skeletal structure and doesn't like to stand with his back parallel to the ground. Also he likes to jump when running, and doesn't like having straps right next to the saddle."
"So maybe I need a saddle designed for a mount that likes to lean back a bit, jumps when running, and has straps that wrap more around the mount's body like a harness, rather than constricting around his torso like a band. Do you have one of those?"
Daviren fixes Merwyn with a friendly stare. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were havin' a laugh with me. I don't rightly have that sort of thing to hand - but I'll see what I can do by the time you gets back from Tickwood."
He talks measurements for a few moments before scratching his chin thoughtfully and nodding enthusiastically.
"I see you have quite the hatred for goblins, I do not blame you," said Veryl to the stable owner, remembering the goblin ears he saw.
"I hate them with a passion. You did the town a lot of good seeing off so many all by yourselves. All the folks around these parts owe you a lot. You really are heroes."
Kalig smiles at the horse's willingness, and asks Hosk for assistance in getting her geared up.
Daviren gladly helps you out and asks if you'd prefer to ride bare-back, on a standard saddle or a military saddle. Meanwhile he organises the horses tack.
Merwyn smiles and runs to the stable, picking out a docile brown cob, fastening her old saddle. She runs outside and behind to the back of stable, stays there for a minute, and returns. "Wonderful, I think I'm ready to go. I'll see you soon about that saddle!"
Kalig smiles at the horse's willingness, and asks Hosk for assistance in getting her geared up.Daviren gladly helps you out and asks if you'd prefer to ride bare-back, on a standard saddle or a military saddle. Meanwhile he organises the horses tack.
"I want whatever makes me least likely to fall off. And for her to feel confident that I won't." Kalig pats the horse's neck.
A stablehand looks admiringly at Breaca's horsemanship. "Will you be wanting any tack? A bridle perhaps if not a saddle?"She moves to the side and leaps,settling with ease onto the horse's bareback and takes her through a few maneuvers in the stable's corral.
Breaca smiles at the stablehand. "While I often prefer bareback, there are times when a saddle is the more sensible option. I would like both saddle and bridle if it isn't too much trouble. A regular saddle will be fine. I find the military styles too restrictive."
"I want whatever makes me least likely to fall off. And for her to feel confident that I won't." Kalig pats the horse's neck.Daviren organises for a military saddle to be fitted.
Once you’re all outfitted Aldern leads the group west over Tanner’s Bridge and along the southern banks of the Turandarok River. He makes sure he’s alongside Veryl and has asks question after question about the life of an adventurer and hero.
It’s a two mile ride to the Tickwood Ford, just north of the upthrust limestone escarpment known as the Devil’s Platter. Despite its ominous name, Tickwood is actually a relatively safe woodland, one well known to be the home of wild boars, deer, and perhaps one or two firepelt cougars—no goblin tribes dwell within its boundaries.
The ride to Tickwood takes about a half hour, but in that time you realise that Aldern is a charming conversationalist, well-read and with a seemingly endless cache of stories about the high life in Magnimar. His attention with Veryl seems to border on a seem like a desperate attempt to ’learn how to be a hero.’
You all dismount and find a few boar relatively quickly. They present no real threat – and you manage to kill a couple within an hour.
”I suggest we present these to Ameiko for a banquet this evening?” He throws Horatio a knowing wink. He then, as ever, returns his attention to Veryl. ”A feast fit for a true hero, eh?”
You make your way back to town easily where you hear that the sheriff will be seeking you out over dinner to discuss your help with the goblins.
As you wait for the boar to be cooked, a very attractive woman approaches Horatio at the table. In a stage whisper she says, ”My father has been too distracted with my sister’s private life to keep up with our store’s pest problem. You see, our store has rats. Why, just yesterday, I’m sure I saw one the size of a goblin hiding behind a barrel at the far end of the basement. My father doesn’t believe me, but I know what I saw. And then I thought about this handy new hero in town, well, and thought maybe said hero could come back with me to kill a few rats in the store’s basement. You’d be back in time for the meal.”
By the end of her conversation, the whisper is more husky and she’s showing rather a lot of cleavage, bent over to speak into his ear.
Merwyn smiles and runs to the stable, picking out a docile brown cob, fastening her old saddle. She runs outside and behind to the back of stable, stays there for a minute, and returns. "Wonderful, I think I'm ready to go. I'll see you soon about that saddle!"
When you return to town, the saddle is waiting for you. It has been lovingly crafted and is both practical and pleasing to the eye.
Returning to the stable, Merwyn picks up the saddle and looks at it in amazement. "I'm sure he'll love this! Let's go and try it on!" She leads Daiveren to the back of the stable, where a blanket-covered creature is sitting oh-so-quietly.
She disappears under the blanket and puts on the saddle. Merwyn climbs onto the saddle and with a dramatic flourish, she throws off the blanket. "Perfect fit!" When he looks, he can see a baby roc staring back at him.
"CAWCAWWW" Merwyn pets her companion on the head and smiles. "Awww look, Cob likes you!"
Kalig enjoys the day outdoors, though has little interest in Veryl and Aldern's talk of "heroism." To her that is the stuff of stories you tell little ones to encourage them to be brave.
She engages intently in the hunt itself, however, taking even a certain savage pleasure in spearing boar--even if then being obsessive about cleaning any blood, dirt, or leaves off of herself after the day's efforts complete themselves. She would engage anyone also seeming to enjoy the hunt in conversation, about whether they had done it before or what they preferred.
Although Longrunning, which was the name her mare told her she would like to be called, was a good horse for her to ride, she is still unused to the process and by the end of the day is stiff--and cranky--and sits in the inn drinking enough to ignore her soreness. Upon the arrival of the woman speaking to Horatio, she mutters, more loudly than she realizes, "'Killing rats' is not a term for it I've yet heard used."
A new experience awaited Veryl with this hunt Aldern has invited them on, he has never been hunting with a noble; his old employer had never been the type to venture out of Magnimar much. The forest's atmosphere was quite the change; the familiar sights and sounds of the city was no longer about Veryl, replaced by many shadow casting trees, patches of bushes laying here and there, the chirping of birds, the wind running past foliage and barks and of course the sounds of hooves hitting dirt instead of paved streets.
Veryl quite enjoyed his talk with Aldern, it had been a while since he engaged a noble in a conversation and he didn't believe that he would miss it, but Aldern did unknowingly cheat by mentioning Magnimar, which he missed to a certain extent. Aldern's questions of heroism and adventure were what almost caught Veryl off guard, he did his best to answer what questions he could, but also avoided certain parts of his history; like his involvement with gangs, how Inigo tricked him and of course the specifics of his escape from the mansion. What helped was that Veryl informed the noble that he was more less just beginning his life as an adventurer, but then Aldern came at him with another unexpected subject 'how to be a hero' This the man in cloak couldn't really answer and simply left the noble with these words "All I know is that I am confident in myself and my abilities, beyond that I can only gauge the distance of the jump I will take and then...leap"
The trip to the woods was truly refreshing, but Veryl was mostly glad to be back in the Rusty Dragon, the inn had a cozy feeling about it, even though it wasn't as fancy as the mansion he once called home. The roaring flames of the fireplace engulfed the room with its soothing warmth, adding more the cheerful and joyous atmosphere that hadn't died down since yesterday. Veryl began thinking of what he should do tomorrow; ideas of keeping a low profile, finding steady work and buying new gloves were all things he mentally debated with himself. His concentration didn't last when the girl approached them, specifically Horatio. Veryl found it fairly obvious what she was trying to do, it may have been a few years since he's been with a gang but he knew what these mannerisms and unsubtle body gestures meant and when he heard Kalig comment on that he was glad that he wasn't the only one that did.
"Haven't heard that one myself, and trust me when I tell ya, I've heard lots of lines back in Magnimar" Said Veryl, his manner of speech undergoing a noticed transformation, as he brought his right hand to his goatee, which had a small grin lying above it.
Kalig turns her attention to Veryl. No, I imagine not. Magnimar, what is it like?"
A long almost wistful sounding sigh releases itself from Veryl's mouth, his head moves upwards till his eyes are almost vertically aligned with the ceiling above, slowly his head returns to its previous position which leads Veryl's Hazel eyes to catch the light of the fire "Magnimar eh? Its big, a lot bigger than this town, buildings as far as the eye can see...the only thing dwarfing them are the old ruins left by..." Veryl pauses momentarily as he tries to remember the name of the civilizations that supposedly built the ancient structures he constantly laid eyes upon "Thasil...I can't really remember the whole name but, those ruins were gigantic, one of them even divides the city in two, and the view you get of the sea is just..." Veryl pauses once more, the only sound left behind after his slightly emotion filled voice went silent was the raping of his fingers on the table.
"You should go there if you haven't, just avoid The Underbridge District, of course if you don't mind being the victim of pick pockets and gangs, it is a place worth visiting" Said Veryl, the familiar serenity in his voice returning and the wistful echos leaving just as he ended with a sarcastic jape.
At Veryl's response, Horatio blinks. For a brief moment, his eyes narrow slightly as he tries to detect any note of sarcasm or jest in the other man's voice. Finding none, he simply gives a small nod in thanks.
It takes Horatio some time to get used to the saddle - he manages to swing himself up with little difficulty, but when the horse starts moving, it's a different matter. He's feeling uncomfortably saddlesore by the time he dismounts for the hunt, but he ignores the aches in his legs and groin until the hunt is over, and he finds himself faced with the dread prospect of getting back into the damned saddle. Aldern's wink at the mention of Ameiko lightens his spirits, however, and he's able to swing himself back onto his horse - with a little more difficulty than last time.
Despite his initial distaste of the creature, he finds himself enjoying the ride. The breeze is pleasant, the sound of hooves makes an interesting beat, and once he figures out how to let himself move with the saddle, it actually isn't too painful. The horse, for her part, seems to pick up on his inexperience, and keeps her pace even.
On arriving back in Sandpoint, Horatio leaves the mare stabled at the Goblin Squash Stables, though not without a hint of sadness. He wouldn't admit it, but he'd grown attached to her over the day. As he sings softly to her, stroking her nose, he realizes he hasn't even named her yet. Noticing the wide white marking under his hand, he smiles. Sure, it wasn't imaginative, but Blaze was a good name for a horse.
Back at the Rusty Dragon, he's the first to the bar, quickly procuring himself a drink and flirting briefly with Ameiko again before rejoining his companions, sitting down with a mug of chilled mead. The sweetness is welcome after the day's riding, and he takes part in idle chit-chat, though his eyes seem to follow a youg woman as she walks past.
When she approaches him, he is only momentarily surprised - I haven't even performed here yet... oh, but of course; I'm a hero, aren't I? As he listens to her words, he sips his drink slowly, picking up rather easily on her tone and posture to determine her true meaning. When she finishes, he casts an eye briefly over her chest, before standing and draining his mug.
"Very well, my lady. It would be my pleasure to show you a thing or two about rat-slaying. We can't have you living in fear of those nasty pests, can we?" He winks to her, the turns to his companions with a small bow. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, the duty of a hero calls. Don't bother coming after me; I'm sure I can handle this matter on my own. I shall rejoin you soon - but not too soon." With that, he gestures for the woman to lead the way. "After you, miss, er...?"
"CAWCAWWW" Merwyn pets her companion on the head and smiles. "Awww look, Cob likes you!"
The stable-owner chuckles. "Don't matter how many years I live, every day somethin' new comes along to surprise me. Glad it fits missy. It's the least I could do for heroes like yous."
After you, miss, er...?"
She unlocks the door, taking care to lock it behind her. She immediately heads to the basement and reveals her true intentions by removing her bodice and sliding herself into an embrace.
”We both know that the rats were an excuse to get us alone.”
No sooner has Horatio left than a tearful young woman rushes in and makes straight for the heroes.
Through sobs, you hear the following. ”Alergast, my husband, and I have two children - little Aeren and baby Verah…Oh, and a dog too…We were at the Swallowtail Festival, where Aeren saw a goblin light a cat on fire and then caper around the burning remains…he hasn’t been the same since... Every night, his howls of terror send Petal…our dog… into a barking fit, and when we ask him what’s wrong, he claims a goblin is in his closet…My husband checked the closet but found nothing, and ever since my son’s complaints about the “closet goblin” have grown more and more tiresome…Yesterday, my husband threatened to make Aeren sleep in the woodshed if he couldn’t learn to “be a man” and sleep through an entire night without crying and telling stories.”
As she tells you this story, she is clutching a baby to her chest with one hand and clinging to the back of a young boy’s shirt with the other. Her sobbing seems more controlled now.
”Earlier tonight, Alergast didn’t go to soothe Aeren when he had his night terrors. But then, a few moments later, we heard poor Petal cry out in pain and Aeren’s screams turn shrill. This time Aeren wasn’t just having nightmares.” She pauses, takes a breath, and then shows you Aeren’s arms. They’re covered with fresh goblin bites.
”When Alergast burst into the room, he found a goblin crouched on my son’s chest. Petal was dead, a knife deep in his ear, and the goblin was frantically trying to chew off Aeren’s arm. Alergast attacked the goblin and chased it back into the closet. My husband flew into a rage and started tearing apart the closet in an attempt to get at the goblin. I panicked and fled here for help”
"Oh, I didn't doubt that for a minute," the bard chuckles, unfazed by this turn of events. "Are you certain we won't be disturbed here? You know how quickly word can spread in a small town..." Though even as he speaks, he's unbuckling his rapier and tugging off his shirt, eager to take advantage of the situation.
For the entire duration of the woman's explanation Veryl was silent, his bore no discernible emotions and his arms crossed. No one could miss the attention their table was getting, a sobbing woman with two children would have that affect, and at the mention of goblins the cheerful mood that had persisted for a day and a night became more somber. Soon enough the only sounds one could here were a few murmurs, the desperate woman's words and the crackling fire which was unaffected by the shift of mood within the tavern.
Veryl felt his patience being tested, here he was enjoying himself with a chat about his home when one of these green monsters decides to show itself Even the toughest gangs knew when they were beat Thought Veryl as he felt a sigh escape his lips. The image of the goblins ear hanging on the stable wall came to his mind Time to send a message Unseating himself, Veryl gave his back to the one asking them for help and collected his bastard sword from the wall it was propped on.
"Have you informed the guards?" Asked Veryl as he buckled his sheathed weapon to his belt.