Sunny will wait for a moment at the cavernous pavilion's entrance as her large, blue eyes adjust to the dimmer lights. Still gently holding Clara's hand, she will begin to creep inside looking at both the surrounding space, the other people who are also as curious as she along with the stuff scattered, cast and heaped all abouts.
Those of you who got 15 or higher:
You notice a small fire burning on the far side of the pavilion, underneath a broken down wagon. The wagon is brightly painted, and hides the small fire's glow from casual view. It consists of a few planks pulled from the show wagon, and several pieces of parchment, paper, and a few leather sheets.
Daven, and anyone who also got 25 or higher:
You notice that behind an overturned bench, pressed up against the side of the pavilion, is a scrap of paper. It is made of exceptional quality materials. It is written in a code, and will take an extended Linguistics check to decipher.
"Eeep!" Sunny scampers over to quickly try and put out the burning.
Sunny comes to a stop, quickly pulls away as much 'clutter' as she can from around the small burning stuff then, looking around at the 'floor', simple squats down and begins shoveling dirt onto the burning stuff.
"Need.....*scuff*...more...*scuff*... dirt...*scuff*..."
Sunny turns and look up at the Elf lass who approaches out of the pavilion's gloom.
"Ah!"
"An', 'tis plain that a fire whut in't in'a proper place in't a good fire ta' be hasin'!" She finishes, even as she keeps trying to throw dirt onto the flames along with Daven's help.
|
"What have you got there?"
I have no clue, it's written in some strange language, I have never encountered
Daven hands the paper to Meg as he continues with extinguishing the fire.
"An', 'tis plain that a fire whut in't in'a proper place in't a good fire ta' be hasin'!"
Pardon miss but that language you speak. It is elven yes? I have never heard it spoken quite like you, Tell me where do you hail from?
Sunny smiles in reply to Daven even as they both do their best to put out the (Hopefully still small or even out) fire.
"Oh, I be from tha' islands. Way off ta' ways. I is still learnin' me speakin' of tha' peoples." She explains brightly, then bounces up and checks that everything is fine with young Clara.
After a few moments, you manage to smother the fire. It appears that most of the documents are beyond repair, but you manage to save a few burnt scraps. Most of what you've salvaged look like ledger documents, and a bill of sale for the pavilion tent itself. The item which catches your eye, however, is the remnants of a handwritten letter. It isn't written in common. Sunny and Daven don't speak the language.
Sunny frowns at her friend Randle,
"Whut t'is it ye mean by them words?" She asks.
"Tha' feller doin' all'a light show done told us whut t'was he's gon'a be doin'. We jus' has ta' get us some stuff ta' be takin' ta' place he be goin' so's, if'n we get there first, they believein' us when we tell 'em whut t'is he's gon'a do." She points out logically.
Norme sighed. He could not understand Sunny if his life depended on it. Fortunately, she was putting out the fire while he combed the area with Jezebeth. "We aren't finding anything over here."
He returned to the others when he noticed them looking at some letters, and took a peek at them along with Jezebeth, who scowled. She would've been able to read this magically if it wasn't for the scrawny one!
Having patted most of the dirt she'd gotten onto her hands and self from shoveling out the fire, Sunny gently takes Clara by the hand and comes to stand along with every one else as they regard the salvaged paper.
"Can any one be un'erstandin' whut tha' paper be sayin'?" She asks hopefully looking around at her... friends.....
Unfortunately, no one present can read the document. You all do recognize the language as a primitive one, though not one anyone here is intimately familiar with.
After putting your heads together, Meg eventually realizes the language is a shorthand version of Orcish.
Sunny bounces and claps her hands in agreement, small puffs of dust forming from her efforts at putting out the fire.
"Aye! Lets be findin' some folks whut speakin' Ocerish!" She extorts. Then looks to Clara.
"An' then maybe seein' abouts gettin' home safe, hey?" (^_^)
Daven, you know several people in the area who can speak Orcish. It is one of the more commonly spoken languages by merchants and soldiers, due to the proximity of the orcish nation of Gornashka. Also, there is a half-orc who frequents your tavern, who is a member of the town militia. When he isn't drilling in the militia, Krughst Stiffjaw can be found sweeping out the town square. He is paid a nominal salary by the city to work with it's citywide beatification program.
You all hurry to the town square, in the expectation that you will find Krughst cleaning up after the Festival. As luck would have it, the diligent half-orc militiaman is hard at work defending the town...from clutter.
He's busily sweeping up trash, and stops as you approach. He waves.
"G'd Affernoon! Wuz all the commotion about?" He greets you, his large mouth holding a lit cigar.
At the new fellow's seeming oblivious and jovial hello Sunny blinks, then looks around at the unchanged and normal town around them.
By this time Daven has stepped forwards and offered the paper that needs to be read so Sunny waits for the words to be made sense of, gently holding Clara's hand as she does so.
|
|
Meg curtsies to the man: "We have this document. Lives may be at stake, so this is important. I will scribe a translation if you would be so kind as to give it. Take your time and I will carefully write the words down. Then you can compare it to the original and point out any changes."
Meg gets out a quill and pen with some parchment. She begins to write in precise letters with large loops as she was taught in the elven court.
If the man is any bit reluctant, Meg offers him a gold coin.
Krughst looks a little baffled at the pressure that has been laid upon him, but he hurries as best he can. After overturning his trash cart to use as a table, he quickly scratches out a Common-tongue translation of the document. He apologizes for the incomplete sentence structure, as it is written in shorthand, even by Orcish standards, and lots of it is lot due to the fire damage.
He shrugs, not understanding the significance of what he wrote. He politely declines Meg's off of coin, saying he was just glad to help.
"Hail, and wait for an old paladin!"
Joram is jogging up to join the rest of you, waving from down the street.
Sunny also bows to Krughst, involving almost folding double at the waist and 'flopping' forwards seemingly boneless-ly before bouncing upright again,
"Aye! Thank'e muchly fer ye writin' of tha' words we needs ta' be speakin'."
She adds her own thanks brightly to Daven's and Megs compliments/thanks. She looks to her freinds to explain what the scraibbles say. (^_^)
"Hello there, dear friends."
He calls, as he walks up to you.
"I can't help but wonder, what did you lot find?"
He winces reflexively.
"One of those cursed carnival folk stabbed me when I started asking questions. I healed myself as best as I could, but it still hurts. I don't know why...but I fear the blade may have been poisoned. My heads all foggy, and my muscles ache..."
He shakes his head, trying to clear it.
"But enough about me, what did you find? Is that a letter from those bastards?"
"Oh! Is ye hurtin'?" Sunny exclaims, even as she bounces over and tries to look at the poor fellows wounds,
"Who has we got that can be soothin'?" She asks of her companions even as she looks to see how deep and nasty a wound it is.
Between Randle and Meg's healing, the paladin looks considerably healthier.
"Thank you, dear friends. I feel much better now."
He examines the translation.
"Well, I don't know what to make of some of this, but it looks like that second line is Capitol of the Country, and the fourth is referencing the Inner Sea Portside Dock, the large fishing dock on the southeast corner of the Inland Sea."
He ponders for a moment.
"The information about the Inner Sea Portside Dock is interesting, I'm more considered about the reference to the Capital. Combined with what we saw here today, I would say we are in for some serious trouble. Potential Regicide, even."
He looks at each of you in turn.
"I sent a few riders ahead to warn the next town. I need you all to meet up with them, and try to get to the Capital ahead of these criminals. We cannot let them reach the Capital, and risk them burning it to the ground!"
Suny nods and picks up on people's excitement at the coming prospects of adventure. She turns to young Clara,
"Lets get ye back with kin, hey?" She says brightly. (^_^)
"As much as I would love that, I think somebody needs to warn the base to our southern and eastern borders. I will stay behind to orchestrate the runners, and provide a stable central plan of operations from here."
He rifles through his bag, and pulls out a sealed letter. He hands it to Meg.
"This is the proof I sent you. You'll know my vanguard when you see them. They...stand out. Look for trouble, and they'll be in the thick of it!"
He smiles.
"Thank you all, so very much. Althamar is in your hands."