Taking full advantage of the noble's generosity, Fofin bursts through the door of the well-loved local ale house with a joyous shout. He hails his fellow companions that have gathered there as well and cheerily demands a full cask of their fine Winterdrop mead.
"Damned if I ain't glad fer escapin' the toils of deep mountain caverns and the grim dispositions o' my damned dear da'!" he exclaims, sitting with his new found motley crew.
Runk, along with the rest of the tavern, notes the dwarfs entrance. When he eventually reaches the table and sits the halfling greets him abruptly, "I'm Runk" but then continues [b]"Know about blades? Found this on the mounted cutter, looked valuable."
Runk passes the small sized halberd to Fofin to get his opinion.
The warrior from Janderhoff peers it over, his hairy face showing clear signs of disgust at its use by the goblins. Tugging at his beard, the dwarf recalls his martial training and points out the weapon as a guisarme.
"S'far as I ken guess, o'course. We stout folk don't have use fer such weapons in the tunnels and halls beneath the mountains. But it does appear t'be in fine shape, considering it were in the grubby mits o'them little terrors," he relates. Giving it a closer inspection, "Now, pr'haps there's some sorta maker's mark on this thing..."
"Good night then cousin, I will see you in the mooring" With the excitement over Blake will retire to his room above the brewery and get some much needed rest until the meeting with the mayor in the morning.
Runk watches the dwarf as he considers the weapon clearly unimpressed.
"Ale dwarf not a smith dwarf." he thinks to himself.
Leaving the dwarf to his inspection he turns to Ethan and asks, "You a cleric? See any dead townfolk?". It might be expected that the second question would carry a note of concern but Runks tone indicates only an academic interest rather than any sense of empathy.
"No one was killed, fortunately. A few folk received nasty cuts, burns, or both. The goblins' attack seemed to lack any discernible purpose, and they employed not even the most basic of tactics. They only succeeded in killing a few dogs, and burning a few houses and carts."
Ethan seems to take no note of Runk's tone, and replies as if the question were asked in a spirit of genuine concern.
"So, we are to meet with the mayor in the morning. Why all this attention? Is it not the obvious choice to defend innocents from the predations of the malicious?"
"Cutters ain't tough but shoulda made some corpses. Didn't find a one." The halfling makes a bit of a face as he sucks at some food stuck between his teeth. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, leans in conspiratorially and continues "So whatcha think was really going on while we was all guttin' gobos?"
In response to Ethans questions he responds, "Sheep always looking for a dog ta hide behind."
As time passes you notice Runk flexing his hand a bit. He looks at his forearm and then considers Ethan. After a moment he holds his arm out in your direction. You notice an obvious and fairly deep gash traveling from near his wrist to almost his elbow. Dried blood coats most of the wound which looks like it was made with a twisted piece of scrap metal rather than a blade. The image of the goblins dog slicers comes to mind.
"You mind?" Runk says by way of request.
Ethan looks at the wound, then reaches up with his right hand to grasp the carved stag-head around his neck.
"Erastil, shed your blessed light, " he intones as a burst of radiance ripples outward.
He maintains his concentration, allowing the energy to fill the area.
"Wow wow, what's up with the fireworks display here? Never thought I would see this upon entering the Hagfish Tavern."
He goes over to the innkeeper, who he gives a pat on the back.
"You'll let anyone in here these days, won't you? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted to retire early."
He takes the soft blow old man Jargie Quinn places against his shoulder, and laughs as he orders his first ale. He makes some small talk with bartender, before letting him get back to the other customers.
"That holy light had better not make me less drunk, or I'm putting these on your tab." he says while winking at you lot.
His eyes go over the group, and you can see he's quite tired and exhausted from todays events aswell. His spear is covered in blood, and there are some holes in his armor that will need to be repaired. As he turns around again, he clumsily knocks over a metal ale cup standing just outside of arm's reach. He misses it, curses, only managing to knock it further away from him. The cup ends up under your table, and Kesten apologizes as he comes over and picks it up.
"I'm sorry gentlemen, sometimes I feel like someone smeared butter on my fingers. It's cost me quite a penny so far.." His smile can tell you there's more to it, but he obviously doesn't want to talk about it with strangers.
Ethans gods energy flows over the rogue causing the wound to close before his eyes. For a moment it almost seems Runk can smell the earthy scent of tilled fields and new earth but then it passes.
"Thanks" he intones as he draws back his now healed arm.
Runk looks up in time to catch sight of a spearman approaching. He raises an eyebrow as he notes the cup fall to the ground, seemingly on its own but says nothing about it. Casually resting his hand on a dagger hilt he focuses his attention trying to discern of there's someone cloaked in invisibility nearby. His attention on the task he tersely replies "Runk" to the newcomer despite the fact that no introductions had been asked for or given.
After a moment or two he gives up, the general noise and activity of the busy tavern making the effort futile. He returns his attention to the others at the table.
Ethan finishes his prayer, then stands, gives a smile of greeting and gestures to an open chair. "Would you care to join us, good sir?"
"Sure why not, it's always better to drink in good company than alone. I expect the bartender will be quite busy this evening, and I don't feel like drinking alone. What are you celebrating? Or were you in the goblin attack aswell? Nasty little buggers got me a few times, came in under my spear before I could end their stinking lives. No good pieces of dung!"
He looks at those around the table, seeing if there are any familiar face.
"Any of you from outside of town, or are you all locals? I have some family living here, but I'm more of a traveller. Don't like being tied down in the same village for too long."
He beckons the bartender, and signals a "round for this table" with a flick of his wrist.
"I am Ethan Sower. My travels as a missionary brought me to Sandpoint. I met Fofin, here, on the road shortly before arriving. Master Runk fought with us against the goblin incursion, today, however we have formally met just moments ago."
He sticks out his hands in a kinda oafish way, unsure who to shake first.
"Nice to meet you. My name is Kesten, traveller, warrior, story teller, extraordinair, and perhaps some sort of a missionary aswell. As you have acquired certain powers through prayer and meditation, my goddess has seen fit to bestow upon me some of her gifts aswel, albeit at a price."
He tries to stand, swirl around so that everyone can get a good look at him, but in doing so pushes over the stair behind him, spilling some of his drink on himself, and just barely manages to stay upright.
[b]"I'm sorry. Kesten Garesz, of the Garesz family. Born and raised up north, but enjoying the weather a lot more here in the south. How have you fared against the little filths of the earth? Hope you haven't lost any people around you..."
After talking some more, he will make ready to leave for the night.
"If any of you require healing now, or require aid tomorrow, be sure to let me know. I've got the third room on the left (***). I'd like to make sure this goblin or whatever threat is taken care of, before I leave Sandpoint. Now let's drink one more, to victory and to a good night's sleep!"
Runk regards the whirlwind of a man trying to decide of he's insane or just loves the sound of his own voice. Finishing his dinner he pushes the plate away but accepts the refill of his drink. Leaning back in his seat with the large tankard in hand he leaves the talking to those with bigger lungs and more will to use them.
He remains at the table until most of the crowd has left and he feels there's no chance the gnome will appear. Rising nimbly from his chair he gives the dwarf a nod, reclaims the pole-arm and exits the room much as he entered. When he reaches his room he carefully checks to see that it hasn't been entered. Once inside he locks the door, ties a small bell to the handle and then settles down to sleep.
The warrior's lack of an answer is about as clear as the look of disparagement he reserves for the piece of work laid before him. Giving Runk a short but adequate farewell as the halfling moves to leave, he turns his attention to the newcomer.
Raising a drink to his cheer, the dwarf gladly accommodates him, "Aye and aye! I've done managed to get hit by one'a the vermin. T'be honest, I was plannin' to drink it off!" he states, motioning to the place where a dogslicer had found a chink in his chainmail.
As Kesten was set on leaving the inn, he sits back down.
"Master dwarf, these are wise words indeed. Let's drink until the morrow, and forget the darkness of the night for a few hours."
Kesten sits back down, orders a couple more ales, and starts swapping stories with Fofin thoughout the night.
Ethan listens to the two tell their tales until the sun sinks below the horizon.
He then rises to his feet, and gives a nod to the group. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am accustomed to farmer's hours, and sleep is calling to me."
He lays a silver piece on the table for the price of his drinks, and moves off to find the proprietress.
"If you please, mistress, I am ready to take my rest." He fishes a small handful of gold coins from his pouch. "I asked the nobleman to give his money to the people of the town when he offered to cover the cost of my lodgings. This is what I can afford to pay. Will it be sufficient for a room, or at least a clean spot of floor near the fireplace?"
Either resting or drinking through the night, there is little more excitement through the evening. As the sun rises on a new day, a courier finds each of you to deliver two messages. One from the Mayor requests your presence as soon as possible at city hall to discuss last nights events. The other from Aldern noting he'll be available in the afternoon.
Kesten's head throbs as the sun rises behind the messenger.
"Begone, messenger of Asmodeus, with your too loud voice and your eagerness to inflict more ache upon this poor noggin' o' mine."
He turns towards the dwarf as he opens the letters, and mutters as he reads them.
"The mayor huh? I am curious to see what he has to say. Gods, who is this Aldern again? ... ... My head hurts, I need some water. Master dwarf, shall I get some for you aswell?"
Runk chuckles to himself when he finds Kesten and the dwarf still at the table an in a predictable state. Taking the same seat as last night he nods to the two of them and orders a large helping of sausage, eggs and various other breakfast staples enjoying the squimish look it brings to the human. When the messenger arrives Runk gives him an appraising and suspicious look before accepting the notes.
After a few minutes he finishes his meal and says, "Got an errand first.". With that he leaves the inn carrying the goblins polearm.
Runk heads to whichever blacksmith or weapons merchant might be on the way or close to the mayors house. Once there he gets the weapon appraised and sells it if the price seems right.
Appraise :
Diplomacy (bartering) :
That done he heads to the mayors house and takes up a position where he can watch the entrance for a bit while reasonably out of sight. Once he sees Fofin, Ziz or Ethan he'll join them and enter.
The aches of a night spent resting beneath a table and without the comfort of a straw-filled bed ravaged the dwarf as well. Rubbing his bleary eyes and cringing at the blast of light issuing from a nearby unshuttered window, Fofin nodded at the accommodations the man offered.
"Oi, was he the fella that done the Nine Stones dance on the table in a kilt or was it the name o' his donkey?" he asks, ordering a large greasy breakfast for himself as well.
He waves away Runk when the halfling goes on his way. He then takes the time after filling his belly to push off the befuddlement that several casks of mead and more than a few bottles of Old Law had brought the previous evening.
Despite the lateness of his prior night, there is work at the brewery to be done and Blake is up early when the messenger arrives. He reads the scrolls and then tucks them away, he checks in with his uncle before leaving to answer the mayors summons and heads around to collect Zizouket and Gorham before going to meet his cousin. Unable to rouse Gorham, he assumes he has already headed over to the town hall. Continuing on he finds Zizouket at his breakfast table. "Good morning to you, Ziz. Have you seen Gorham today, and did you get a summons to see the mayor as well? I spoke with her last night and had planned to meet her, but then I got this official summons with a note from that man Foxglove. I figure if I got them, perhaps you fellas did as well."
Ethan wakes with the sunrise, washes, and neatly makes up his bed. Heading downstairs, he finds the cooks and scullions have only just arrived, and are preparing the kitchen to cook the breakfast.
He moves, through the common room, taking note of the snoring form of Fofin beneath the table he and the rest of their companions were sitting at the previous night.
Entering the kitchen, Ethan greets the kitchen staff warmly. "Good morning, friends. It is a beautiful day dawning in Sandpoint, may it bring you all happiness and prosperity."
Without further comment, he sets to assisting the scullions with the menial tasks, fetching wood for the fire, and buckets of water for the kettles and cauldrons. He assists in the washing and drying of the mugs and platters from the previous night, and carries the leavings out the compost pile.
Once the cooking begins, Ethan politely excuses himself, not wanting to interfere with a task requiring skill. He moves into the common room and finds a seat by the common room hearth.
He pulls his worn copy of the Parables of Erastil from his pouch, and begins to read, meditating on the stories within.
After a while, he looks up, suddenly aware of the noise of the common room filled with patrons. He closes the book with a final, silent prayer, and moves over to Fofin, who has woken from the night's revelry, and is enjoying a hearty breakfast.
"Good Morning, Fofin." he says in a soft voice, just barely audible above the din of the room. "I trust you slept well?"
Swallowing down a mouthful of greasy goodness that all dwarves love, he smiles at Ethan. "Damn fine night to make up for any pains o' the mornin'! Sure enough, I slept like the mountains themselves," he assures the cleric, brandishing the end of a sausage link before taking a chomp out of it.
Never one for waste, Fofin finishes off his breakfast down to the last bite. With the sobering (literally) task finished, he adjusts his armor and looks grimly over toward Ethan.
"Seems we're gonna be the errand boys for Sandpoint! Much as I figured, considerin' the mayor now wants t'see us. I don't really see the problem considerin' there's bound t'be more balloon-headed, bug-eyed little monsters out there ready fer a whippin'!" he exclaims, taking his first drink for the day.
As Fofin and Ethan are eating, something is stirring under the bench the dwarf is sitting, but nobody notices it. As Kesten tries to open his eyes, he feels he is not well. The night was short, and the drinking was heavy, and he's going to feel it today.
That will teach me, go drinking with a dwarf.
As Fofin shouts his last sentence, the bench starts moving upwards. The shocked dwarf is balancing his drink, as Kesten slowly rises from the rubble and is lifting Fofin and his bench up in the air.
"Fofin! I told you to..."
Kesten stops mid-sentence as he noticed the other patrons looking at him funnily. He also notices a slender brown-haired man sitting opposite the table, eyes measuring him up. He gently sets down the bench, the dwarf drinking his pint like nothing is happening.
"I'm sorry, I kinda... Euh.." He looks a bit baffled, and continues only after giving his attire a little patdown to clear the worst of the smudges. "My name is Kesten, pleased to meet you. "
He holds out his hand, a bit uncertain, as if he doubts this is appropriate after his little spectacle.
A character can lift as much as double his maximum load off the ground, but he or she can only stagger around with it. While overloaded in this way, the character loses any Dexterity bonus to AC and can move only 5 feet per round (as a full-round action).
STR 14 >> Max 117–175 lbs. >> Average 146 lbs >> Double 292 lbs (132 kg).
Ethan smiles, stands, and takes the man's hand.
"It is good to see you again, Master Kesten. Would you care to join us for breakfast?"
As he resumes his seat, Ethan reaches for the Mayor's Invitation.
"Are there any instructions as to how we should dress? Are we being summoned for dinner, or for militia duty?"
Fofin grunts after being set down and sequentially draining down the remnants of his morning pint thereafter. "Don't give no damn what silk shirts an' ribboned caps he might be expectin' us t'wear. I'm goin' in m'mail and if he don't like that than I hope he prefers the sight o' my hairy arse!" he informed the tavern quite loudly, giving a belch for emphasis.
"Don't mind if I do!" Kesten says, obviously relaxed by the man's reaction.
As he sits down and takes out his knife and fork, the bag rips and the contents are scattered all over the floor. Kesten curses in a polite way, and starts picking them up.
"God, I hope he isn't expecting us in any fancy outfit, I don't think I have time to go get me one.. And I mean buy, coz I don't really own one. Apart from the one I had on yesterday morning, and well that didn't survive long. If it's okay with you Fofin, I reckon I'll stand behind you. Your chain will provide an excellent distraction from the smudges and dirt on my outfit."
He sits back down, and starts munchin'. You swear the man has an insatiable appetite, and not exactly a fine palette.
"I reckon the mayor will want to debrief us about yesterday. I'm more interested about Aldern. Maybe there's a reward or something? The old man will put you in his will? Would be nice, no?"
Kesten kicks his chair a bit back, and modifies his belt to the next hol to accomodate for his 'big lunch'.
"How much time do we have left?"
Zizouket rushes to get the door before his mother, suspecting it may be Blake. "Blake! I'm glad to see you got the same messages! I didn't want to hang out with your cuz' by myself... nothin' against her... just she's so businessy, is all. I wonder if the others got the same invite... to your cousin's, I mean. I'm sure they got the one from Aldern."
He calls out over his shoulder as he heads out with Blake: "Mom! I'm going to that mayor's meeting! I'll see you later!"
"We should be leaving for the Mayor's house about now, if we are to be punctual."
Ethan seeks out the proprietress. "Mistress, we are meeting with the Mayor this morning. Would it be an imposition to ask if we could leave our weapons and travelling gear here for the duration of the audience?"
Runk sits awaiting the rest of the groups arrival at the mayors office. As the sun continues to rise he grows a bit bored and starts to consider the potions he found the previous day. Annoyed that the gnome didn't appear last night to identify them for him the halflings curiosity gets the better of him and he decides to take matters into his own hands. Taking them out of his bag he unstoppers them one at a time and takes a first tentative and then more hearty whiff of each. Gaining no insight he lets out a huff of resignation and dips a finger into the first and then puts it in his mouth. Somewhat emboldened by not becoming a newt he repeats the process with the second.
Perception check to ID the potions :
You find some merchants to hock your loot to. They are all generally friendly and from what you can tell are more than happy to give you a fair price, but even with their friendly demeanor you can't seem to negotiate any to give you a higher price. In all, you sell the goblin junk and nicer weapon for a total of 388 gp.
"Either that, or we could leave it with my folks.. But that is out of the way, so..."
Kesten gives the woman the equivalent of the puppy eyes.
"Shall we be on our way then gentlemen?"
Kesten whistles a tune as the men walk down the road.
When he sees the first group to reach the area approaching the mayors office Runk hops off the crate he'd been sitting on and crosses the street to join them.
"`bout time" he says to no one in particular.
"I suppose so, Gorham was not home so I guess he must have already responded to the summons. We should hurry and meet up with her you know how she hates to be kept waiting." Blake heads off with Zizouket to the Town Hall to meet up with Kendra.
"Ah, the little halfling that didn't like the drinks! Was your errand succesful?"
Kesten continues whistling as we walks towards/past him.
"Hello again, Master Runk! You seem quite eager to meet the Mayor."
"Enough" he says. His tone indicates he's referring to if his mission was successful rather than that Kesten should stop talking.
Following quietly (for once) after the rest of the group, it appears as if Fofin is engaged with a chip of blueish stone. He holds the piece up, looking at it this way and that. Every now and again, he mutters something to himself. Otherwise, the dwarf agrees distractedly with his companions as he plods along behind them.
You speak to me stone, but I cannot hear you. It appears you are all that's left from my people to me. What will become of us? What shall we be chipped into?
As Blake and Zizouket approach the others in front of the Town Hall, Zizouket skips a step. "Ah ha! I told you they'd'a been called on! Good to see y'all again!" He offers his hand to each, then looks at the newcomer and offers his hand to him. "Ah! You must've come to the town's defense on another front! I'm Zizouket, and this is Blake." He looks around. "Hmmm... no one else? Huh..."
"Nice to meet you, Zizouket. And you aswel, Blake. Is it possible I've seen you around these parts, some years ago? Your faces look familiar.."
Kesten appears friendly and jovial, and apart from a few stubborn stains on his clothing, quite the gentleman.
"It would appear it's just us. Maybe the invitation was only sent to the most heroic of the defenders?" he says, jokingly.
"The meeting time has come. Shall we wait for Gorham and his unusual companion, or go ahead inside?"
"You've been to Sandpoint before? I'm sorry, I don't remember you, but it's possible we've met. Blake and I have both lived here our whole lives."
"I think we can go inside. If Gorham is coming, he knows the way."
"I have a mother, little sister and a grandmother living here. It's the third street behind the baker. The one that has the good and cheap bread, not the one that's expensive. I've come around these parts a few times, looking them up. Family is family, right?"
Kesten will follow Zizouket inside.
Who is this Gorham guy? Sounds orcish. Oeh, maybe he's one of these great-axe flinging jaw-dropping saliva-dripping...
**Kesten is lost in his thoughts**
"Yes, family is family and Gorham was as brave as any of us. He is like family and it is unusual that he is not around, maybe his already inside." Blake follows the others in and heads towards his cousins office.
Fofin snorts in a derisive manner over the thought of one with orc blood being brave. More like bloodthirsty or too dumb to know the situation, he thinks to himself. With the mention of the half-orc, the dwarf's muse has certainly all but vanished. Frustrated, he tosses the chip of tone he had been examining to the wayside before looking up to the group with a furrowed brow.
"Well? Let's get goin' in! I done had enough rootin' about in the tavern last night. Enough cavortin'!" he suggests bluntly, motioning for one of the more locally knowledgeable fellows to take the head of the group.
Heading in you are brought to the mayors office and asked to wait a moment as the sheriff and the mayor are talking. The assistant sticks his head into the room and lets them know you are here. He quickly comes to get you and bring you into the room.
Mayor Deverin motions for you to come in, sheriff Hemlock stands to the side of her desk as you enter. The mayor address you "Ah, the glorious heroes! Please come in, we were actually just discussing you as well as the events of last night." She waits to see what you have to say before continuing.