Scrabbler hadn't known what to say to Brinya, so he'd let everyone else do the talking. He was sad and embarrassed and had mostly hid behind Ivan while they'd returned Rodrick's knife.
At the House of Wonders he was much more present and animated. He immediately started looking over the shelves and displays like a hyperactive child in a confection shop.
Bupkis is getting bored, because no one else is taking any interest in the magic items. "We go sell other stuff now?", he asks.
Daseem spent much of his life in an introspective daze. He hadn't really been paying attention while they went to visit the House of Wonders. Agrit's fixed smile and awkward silence after the Goblin's pronouncements nudged him out of his reverie. 'They are at once streetwise and childlike. You do know she wants to be paid right? She's not going to do this for free,' he thought, 'Oh gods no one is speaking, this is so awkward. Oh no. Am I going to have to speak?!'
Ratheer tentatively Daseem broke the silence, "Err. We'll p-pay of c-course." He paused fractionally before asking, "Err, ahm. H-how m-much would that normally cost?" He tried to smile the way Tessa would when she wanted something, really he did. Problem was he came over all wrong, and he knew it and hated it.
"What magic items do you have to identify." the bearded Dwarven woman asks in reply.
Agrit takes the scroll Bubkis hands him and takes a very close look at it. "It's a scroll of summon swarm. Be careful where you use this." she tells and hands the scroll back. Looking at Daseem she adds "You're welcome."
"Thanks you!", Bupkis says to Agrit. He's a bit unsure what the scroll does, but doesn't want to announce his ignorance. Brings many bugs? Why?
He looks around at the goods on display, but realizes that he would probably have to pay to get those things, and that means money!
"We sells other things now?", he asks the others.
Menrozzar asks Agrit, "Would it also be possible for us to get an appraisal on some gemstones, as well as the identification of a strange substance?"
Agrits expression darkens. "Get that poison out of my shop."
"Poison? Bupkis not want that," the little goblin declares. He's worried he'll drink it by mistake when he's thirsty.
"Agreed. We need to burn this filth as soon as we can. Had I known it was poison, I would have done so long since." Menrozzar is slightly disgusted by the fact he now knows he's carrying poison - that was Orc tactics, not the kind he liked.
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Longshanks not like poison. Good knowing, Scrabbler thought to himself. He didn't know why poison was bad, but he wanted to be liked by the tallfolk, so he tried his best to adhere to their incomprehensible rules. Like soap. He sniffed himself and tried to figure out if he needed a washing.
The answer was yes, but goblins are particularly bad at knowing the difference between good smells and bad smells, so Scrabbler ended up under the mistaken impression that he was fine for another day.
It was starting to dawn on him that he needed to know more about longshank monies and tradings. He knew how much a meal cost, but he didn't know why. Now he was learning that shiny rocks were lime moneies, and those were worth different amounts too. That black one would buy a lot of food.
He hoped he would get some of the monies from the tradings, but he didn't want to sound greedy. That was another thing tallfolk didn't like. He kept his mouth shut and just listened.
Edgar, still not completely recovered from the earlier talk with Brinya, had been quiet until now,"Thank you so much for your help identifying these items for us," he says to Agrit,"have you any magical wares or potions for sale?" he asks hoping to get a wand or at least a potion of healing.
Agrit is found in the House of Wonders like most of the time. The dwarven woman is busy packing a chest with potions and some scrolls.
While standing in the midst of high shelves, crammed with strange stuff, half of which you have no idea what they are, or what they're for, with scrolls, potions, carved sticks, weapons, a shield and other stuff in between, Agrit answers "No. This is a museum. And you haven't paid the entrance fee." Even though very uncommon in her life choices for a dwarf she still is a dwarf and the proverbial dwarven grumpyness starts to show.
Bupkis gets the feeling that the group has overstayed their welcome. "Maybe we go now?", he says, edging towards the door.
Talking to Agrit made Daseem very uncomfortable, she was grumpy and when that substance had turned out to be poison the atmosphere had become positively icy. He stood at the back shifting from one foot to the other nervously. Of course Daseem didn't approve of posion, that was no way for a warrior to die. A warrior aspired to go out in a blaze of glory with their sword in their hand and their enemies at their feet. Like Bupkis he hoped they would be leaving soon.
"Thank you for your time, Agrit. We appreciate it."
Menrozzar motions for the others to take their leave. "Sara might buy some of these weapons and armor off of us - we should speak to her next."
"Whassa moo-see-um? Izzat like a barn but for cow horses?" Scrabbler asked.
Bupkis knows that no-see-ums are tiny biting flies. Could moo-see-ums be flies the size of cows? He eagerly shares his knowledge, "Bukis thinks they giant flies! Others need bows to fight giant moo-see-ums!"
Menrozzar sighs. "A museum," Menrozzar takes care to emphasize the proper pronunciation, "is a place where various pieces of art or artifacts are stored. People can pay an entry fee to go look at the art or artifacts."
Menrozzar leads the group over to Clamor, looking for Sara Morninghawk. Once he finds her, he says, "Good morning, Sara. We have some things we'd like you to take a look at."
"You want some repairs?" Sara asks, looking up from her work at the anvil.
Bupkis isn't sure whether Sara Morninghawk would buy weapons; he thinks she makes them to sell to other people. "We has armors and weapons to sell. Sara knows who buys these things?", he asks the smith.
"Tallfolks pays moneys to look at arty stuffs?" Scrabbler asked, flabbergasted.
"Me's gonna start drawing lots..."
"Show me." Sara tells. She puts down the hammer and takes a look at the items brought to her. "I'd take it all. It's standard gear that I can sell." She goes through the items, mumbling numbers and offers the group a fair prize.
Ivan makes his way to the clamor, giving a nod to Sara before starting to hammer away on repairing his fathers armor. Even if the materials used weren't as near as good a quality as the original, or the craftsman that was forging it. But Ivan was an excellent smith to most and would see it through.
Daseem nodded at Sarah while the others were negotiating a selling price. He'd noticed a pile of oxide flakes near the big anvil. Sarah had clearly been forging something and Daseem couldn't bear to see the mess. A tidy workshop was a godly workshop. He made a bee line for the broom and within a couple of minutes had swept the floor clean. He put the broom carefully back in its place and noted the fine work Ivan was attempting. It looked to Daseem like the Dwarfs armour was in its final stages of manufacture. He nodded approving before wandering back over to the discussion.
Everyone seemed really focused on commerce, but Daseem was keen to get back to investigating the mystery of what the blazes was going on
A little haltingly he asked Sarah, who he knew fairly well, "Sarah d-did you hear tell of anything strange last n-night?"
Sara looks suspicious what Daseem is doing. But as he keeps away from here tools and the work she decides to ignore it.
"Nah. Nothing." she replies.
While all stand together and items and coins change their owner, Kurst comes in. "Hi all. Nice that I find you all together here. Rodriks funeral is this evening at six o'clock. See you there." then he turns and walks away to tell others.
Bupkis isn't sure what will happen at Rodrick's funeral, but he feels it's very important to remember his friend. "What we have to do for funeral? Bupkis not know customs," he asks the others. He's embarrassed to ask, but afraid he'll make a mistake if he doesn't.
After learning about Trunau funeral customs, Bupkis thinks that for this special occasion, he should have a bath. First however, he has coin to spend, and heads off to That'n' Such to buy a better backpack! He also buys some more ammunition, just in case.
Once that task is accomplished, he grits his teeth and resolves to attend to the matter of bathing, and actually washing his clothes.
After they were finished at Clamor, Menrozzar went to check on Othdan and see how he was doing after his ordeal, then set about searching for Daktani. The guards at the gate hadn't seen him, nor did the ones who'd been on duty the previous night. The militia man moved about the town, searching for anyone who'd seen Daktani. The morning's search proved fruitless, and after lunch at the Longhouse, he resumed his search, but it became readily apparent that by mid-afternoon, Daktani either wasn't in the town, or was doing a good enough job keeping out of sight that no one had seen him.
What Menrozzar couldn't figure out was what Daktani had been doing at the Plague House. He was a petty crook, sure, but kidnapping Othdan? That would get him more than just a couple of nights locked up - that was a serious sentence. And why that chest of things - the disguises, the lockpicks? Had Daktani been moving about in disguise? Was that why he'd grabbed Othdan? Because he'd been seen hiding his disguise? Would Daktani have killed the boy, if they hadn't rescued him? It was a chilling thought, one that pointed to further bad things for Trunau.
Then there was the matter of the assassins - poisoned blades, coming for each of those who were investigating. What had they come close to discovering? Had Daktani sent the assassins after them? If not Daktani, then who? Was Daktani also responsible for the wolves that had attacked them the previous day?
With a sigh, Menrozzar turned to head for the Longhouse and prepare himself for the funeral. He had more questions than answers, and he didn't like it, but he couldn't figure out anything that would point them in the right direction. All he knew was that there were plots about - and those plots could spell doom for Trunau.
Everyone goes different about their preparations for the funeral. Some take their annual bath, others keep investigating the mysteries that have befallen Trunau. Others prepare for the fights to come by buying better equipment.
But finally all gather at the Flame of the Fallen for Rodrik’s funeral just before sunset. In addition to Kurst and his father Jagrin, Brinya and Omast are present, as well as Katrezra.
To the east fog comes up and the woods start to disappear in a gray veil.
High Priestess Tyari Varvatos officiates the ceremony. All stand around that large pile of wood with Rodrik's body on top. Rodrik wears the insignia of a watch captain, like he did in life. While all solemnly watch the High Priestess lights the fire and consecrates the Flame of the Fallen with sacred herbs. The fire blazes in short time, engulfing Rodrik's body in flames after a few moments.
While watching the crackling fire Kurst sighs "At least we know Rodrik didn’t disgrace himself with an unnecessary suicide."
Tyari then draws a hopeknife, that you recognize as the one you found in the plague house and returned to Brinya. She performs the traditional requenching of the deceased’s hopeknife. She puts it into the fire and waits until the blade glows orange. Using a pair of pliers she takes it out and holds it into a bucket of oil. As the sizzling noise of the oil stops, she holds the blade up. The hopeknife became blackened, and is now surrounded by a bluish white glow. Wrapping it up in a leather cloth, she hands the knife to Rodrik’s grieving fiancee, Brinya.
While all still watch the fire burn and think about Rodriks life and his death, the High Priestess packs up the items she brought for the ceremony.
But just as the sun sinks below the horizon, the peaceful evening is shattered by the brazen calls of signal horns. Shouts and screams from the town’s lower quarter join the clamor, followed by a crash as an airborne boulder smashes into one of the guard towers.
The solemn atmosphere at the Flame of the Fallen transforms into a chaotic race to prepare Trunau for attack and protect its citizens. Patrol Captain Jagrin Grath and Omast Frum immediately rally the nearby guards and take command of the town militia to repel the invaders. Those residents capable of fighting stop what they are doing and head to the walls, while the town leaders hurry noncombatant townsfolk into the Longhouse for safety.
Kurst immediately approaches Menrozzar and Ivan. "Take your friends with you and make sure the beacons get lit. First the Commons beacon , then the inner gates beacon , and last the Hopespring beacon . If we want to stand a chance, we need the fires to burn or we're fighting orcs in the dark. Go for it." he orders, and then turns to assemble more people of the militia to fend off the attack that is going on in the lower part of Trunau.
Bupkis isn't big on baths, but wants to pay his respects to his friend properly, and Rodrik bathed regularly. He even pays for his clothes to be cleaned at the same time. Finally, it's time to go to the Flame of the Fallen for the ceremony.
As he listens to High Priestess Varvatos, he doesn't fidget they way he normally would; he's lost in thought, remembering everything Rodrik had done for him. Rodrik believes in Bupkis when no one else does.
Goblins like to watch things burn, but the funeral pyre is different; the flames are not a cause for excitement, but of somber reflection. His friend is really gone.
It takes a moment for Bupkis to register sounds of the the shouts and horns. Trunau is under attack! He joins his new friends and hurries towards the Commons.
Scrabbler had actually come to like bathing. Mostly he liked splashing, and also making the biggest suds he could with the soap. He even dragged his ratty jester's outfit in with him to try to get the bloodstains out of the purple parts.
By the time he got out the water in the horse trough he'd been washing in was brown, and he was a much brighter green.
Goblins didn't hold funerals. He didn't know what they were. Even his circus tribe hadn't done anything like that, so Scrabbler was curious. Once he figured out that it was a way for everyone to talk about how much they missed someone who had died, he really wished his circus tribe had gotten one.
Then all hell broke loose.
Heads bowed and thoughtful, Daseem and Tessa headed to the Flame of the Fallen. The investigation had been frustrating, they were none the wiser over what had actually happened and what. Yes it seems there was a plot afoot but it all seemed so vague and nebulous.
As the ceremony started, Daseem noted the encroaching fog. It seemed strangely apropos for the occasion although a part of him noted that as odd. He glanced at Tessa but she was in a sullen silence. She'd impressed upon him the importance of respectful quite during the ceremony which had irked him because he was hardly going to say anything anyway. 'Who does she think I am?' he thought bitterly.
Turning his attention back to the ceremony he found himself welling up when Brinya was handed the now hardened hopeknife. He flinched when the horns brayed out and when it became obvious Trunau was under attack, Daseem told Tessa urgently, "G-bo back to Aunt Lessor's and b-bolt the door." For once she had nothing smart to say and she observed, a look of real fear in her eyes.
Noting Kurst talking to Menrozzar and Ivan, Daseem trotted over to them. The beacons! Yes that was sound tactical sense, Daseem nodded and started running for the commons beacon.
Because it is visible from nearly all sides, the Commons beacon is the most important beacon in upper Trunau, apart from the Flame of the Fallen. Lighting the beacon is the easy, as the 10-foot-wide pyramid of dry wood is neatly stacked and prepared to be lit.
But you also find, that Brinya has been stopped on her way to the Longhouse by a mob in the commons. It is led by a cleric named Baseil Sabask from the nearby Trunau Countinghouse, the town’s temple of Abadar. He accuses her of being responsible for the death of Rodrik and for having part in what comes over Trunau now.
Menrozzar quietly attended the funeral, along with the remainder of the group. He'd respected Rodrik, and suspected he could have learned a great deal from the man had he not been murdered. He noted the encroaching fog, and found it quite odd, but her remained focused on the task at hand, right up until the horns sounded. An Orc attack? I knew there was trouble brewing - and I'll bet Daktani was involved in this!
Kurst gives his orders, and Menrozzar nods. "Understood. Daseem! Scrabbler! Bupkis! Edgar! We need to get the beacons lit. Let's move!"
"Scrabbler, Bupkis, don't get too far ahead. We're faster than Ivan and Daseem." Menrozzar had always moved fast, even in armor, but it was important they stay together, else they could get strung out.
Seeing the mob, Menrozzar groans. We don't have time for this! Still, he says, "Daseem, Ivan, keep going for the beacon with Scrabbler and Bupkis. Edgar, with me."
He turns to the mob and runs over. Once within distance, he says, "What is going on here? Baseil, we are under attack, and you have duties to be about! The rest of you do, as well. Disperse at once! Stop harassing people and be about it!"
As a figure of authority Menrozzar easily silences Baseil and discourages the townsfolk, who do as told.
Brinya stays until all of the mob are far enough away. "Thank you for helping me out of this situation. I'll go for safety at the Longhouse. But I want you to have this." She hands Menrozzar the rolled up leather with the hopeknife inside. "Put it to good use. No more Trunauans shall die by it."
Menrozzar doesn't want to take the hopeknife, but he also knows he doesn't have time to argue with her about it. "I shall put it to good use. Perhaps I will be able to return it to you. Now hurry to safety, please."
Menrozzar will turn and continue heading to the Commons to light the beacon.
Bupkis sees that Menrozzar is dispersing the mob. He doesn't have a problem following instructions to light a fire; he takes out his flint and steel, and sparks the dry kindling.
"We hurry to Inner Gates Beacon!", he urges the others, and leads the way.
The beacon is just 20 foot further.
Brinya runs off, and you see how she safely reaches the Longhouse.
Once the Commons Beacon is lit, Menrozzar nods to Bupkis. "Let's head for the Inner Gates Beacon - it's on the way to the Hopespring Beacon."
The fire is set ablaze until Menrozzar turns his attention to it. There is nothing like a goblin and fire.
The inner gates beacon is behind the defensive walls that seperate the upper part of Trunau from the lower part. The guards at the gate raise the portcullis to allow the crew to enter the inner quarter, shutting it after them. Conditions on the other side of the gate contrast starkly with those in upper Trunau. In the short time between the start of the raid and now, the orcs have already wrecked much of the inner quarter, utterly estroying the wood pile readied for the beacon, setting fire to multiple buildings, toppling fortifications, and slaying as many townsfolk as possible.
As the groups finds their bearings, Kurst Grath appears, leading a squad of stalwart Trunauan militia members. Kurst orders "Secure the inner quarter as you make your way toward the final unlit beacon near the Hopespring."
Already under heavy attack, the inner quarter may well fall to the raiders if no one restores some semblance of order. Kurst says "I’ll lead a sortie from the town to drive 'that thing' that’s throwing boulders at the town closer to the walls so Trunauan archers can hit it."
...
Heart pounding, Daseem raced to the beacon an then, 'Oh no! We've got to light the darn thing and I lost my fire box. Uh how awkward!' He glanced around nervously and noticed Menrozzar bending down to light the fire, 'Merciful Gorum, it's good someone was prepared!'
Once the beacon was properly lit, Daseem started heading to the inner Beacon thinking, 'If I can't light it, at least I can keep watch.'
A makeshift barricade has been hastily constructed before the inner quarter’s southern gate. The barricade is already covered in the spilled blood of raiders and innocents alike, and several victims of the bloody fight are strewn about the ground north of the barricade. Acolytes from the Sanctuary and the Trunau Countinghouse have set up a small medical station behind the barricade here. The clerics are busily tending to injured militia members and townsfolk.
To the right where the house of Sara Morninghawk and Agrit Staginsdar stood are now burning ruins. Long flames lick the walls of this sizeable house, and burning beams crumble to the ground beneath the weight of the sagging roof.
From here you can't see more, but orcs running between the houses. And you hear the screams from here and there over the roaring sound of the raging fires.
Bupkis looks around and sees the ruins of Sara Morninghawk and Agrit Staginsdar's house. He shouts, "Sara and Agrit's House! Bupkis sees if they inside!".
He runs over and looks inside, shouting, "Sara, Agrit?"
Three orcs arrive at the scene just as Bupkis runs into the house. They are havin gthe time of their life and try to kick the walls of the burning house in. Until they see the others coming. They turn to fight.
The orc at the front readies an attack.
Upon finding the devastation of the Inner Quarter, Menrozzar curses. "How could they have gotten inside the Inner Quarter so quickly? How did they overrun the gates?" He nods at Krath's command. "Let's get that last beacon lit - and clean this area up."
Menrozzar moves along with the rest, seeing the ruins of the house. He sighs and detours along with Bupkis to see what they could do. Finding three orcs come along, Menrozzar eyes the lead orc's readied status, then draws out his lucerne hammer as he charges forward with a battle cry, "For Trunau!"
Once in reach, he swings his hammer at the orc.
Unfortunately, he trips on his way there and his swing is far wide of the mark.