He maneuvers slowly to Mrs. Dubois' side, resting a hand on her shoulder, reaching into his pocket for the money she paid him upfront earlier. He pulls it from his hand, offering it to her with a slight smile. "Welp... I can't take this anymore so it seems. The information I needed was right here. You can pay me in full when I return with your husband." He offers a reassuring smile.
The old bat interrupts at this point, Daemon looks to her as he always has: 'That old crazy lady that the young buck gets annoyed at hearing her rant on, and on.' He shakes his head as she finally hobbles away, "I... Apologize for her."
He turns to Vorn, "Are you opposed in my pursuing this, Vorn?
He holds a finger to Yosrick, implying he'll be with him after he's finished speaking with Vorn.
Vorn crosses his arms in front of himself and shrugs to Daemon, "I'm not opposed to it, but you could just as easily be walking to a death sentence. This isn't some random ruffian. The Burned Man is cunning, ruthless and downright sadistic. What we've found of our patrols hasn't been pretty..."
Vorn rubs a hand through his hair, his dour features twisting in concentration as he tries to figure out what can be done, "The Guard's down to less than a dozen men... I can't assign anymore to try and hunt the bastard down, we need them here... and I fear we'd just be sending them to their deaths."
Letting out a growl of rage, the young deputy looks up to Daemon and the others, "By The Iron Lord's Blade! I hate this, Would that I could take my blade to hunt the man myself." Nodding once more he says, "No, I would not be opposed to you pursuing this, in fact I am instituting a reward to each man or woman who aids in the capture or death of the Burned Man, 400 gold pieces each. I will make sure Belor and the mayor honor the claim."
"Reward? I could definitely use a reward..."
He nods his head both to Vorn and to Yosrick in recognition. "Indeed... Well, you can count on me going. I have a job to complete, afterall. One moment, Vorn." He steps aside, placing a hand on Yosrick's shoulder, leading him away from the pack slightly. "I apologize, you wished to speak with me?"
"Well, I'm going with, both for the reward and because the merchant has something my employer needs. So, we can cut out the recruitment, I suppose. When do you plan on leaving?"
As soon as he's done speaking with the detective, Yosrick will head back over to Hugh. "I've made arrangements to go after your merchant friend. Do you feel up to waltzing into a bandit nest or are you sticking close to Ameiko's taproom while I place myself boldly into danger?"
Hugh smirks at Yosrick and gives the lad a strong tap on the shoulder with his cane, "Oh I think you have this covered, I'll just slow you down. Ameiko's it is!"
With a happy sigh, the old adventurer turns and starts his walk to the rusty dragon, before looking over his shoulder, "By the way, what's your plan? you know, for finding them, saving hostages? surviving? I mean you sound so sure! I'm just curious how two strangers are going to beat a bandit army?"
Koveluss' ears catch the old man's words to Yosrick, strides to the man, and rests an arm across the aged adventurer's shoulders. "I believe your age is catching up with you, sir. You're going the wrong way; you should go to the White Deer. There is a lovely young woman waiting for my return within, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint her."
The actor grins, and winks to Hough. "I'll be unable to tell her that I'm going to make this party of two a group of three, and she will be in need of company. Would you be kind enough to take care of her for me?"
Yosrick groans. Plans? Plans? Yosrick was not the best for planning. Or for execution. Or for finishing.
Oh gods, what has he gotten himself into?
He snickers aloud, almost offended by the old man's comments of plans. Shaking his head, he speaks up to Yosrick, "I suppose I could use a deputy to help me solve this case. Oh, and we'll have to have a talk about what your employer is after," he says with his dry humor and a friendly smirk.
"Mrs. Dubois?" he turns to face the woman again. "We will be by your Inn shortly to ask an additional question or two. I do suggest you be on your way before you stress yourself any further." He offers the noblewoman a reassuring smile, the smile exhorts the pretense of an idea.
Yosrick holds up both hands. "Deputy? Me? I dig up old things, detective, I don't solve crimes. Unless they're at least 100 years old. Then I'm your man. And as to the thing my employer is after, all I can say is what I know. It's some sort of key to a puzzle he's got, that if we solve it, may lead to an undiscovered Thassilonian ruin. Beyond that, I guess I'll know it when I see it. Gods, I need a drink."
Hugh grins rakishly to Koveluss, "Well far be it from me to leave the poor girl out in the cold." and he turns back towards the White Deer, walking past Daemon and slipping an arm through Madame Dubois' , Come now my dear, let's get you a glass of wine and some company to keep your mind at ease, eh?" The pair of them head back into the White Deer, with Garridan watching skeptically, he eventually looks back to Koveluss, "They're welcome of course, but I don't want my Inn to turn into some haven for adventurers." he shakes a finger pointedly at Koveluss, before he and his son both go back into the Inn as well.
Standing there with the three, Vorn raises a questioning eyebrow, "Well, shall I search for anyone to help the three of you? or are you confidant to travel, as is?"
"I'm not sure about these fellows here, but I need to gather some things. That being said..." He runs a hand along his cheek, his scruffy five o'clock shadow causing a scratching sound to emit from beneath his hand, "The more the merrier in this situation - we could always use more assistance... Deputies even" he grins in Yosrick's direction.
Koveluss laughs at Garridan's words. "Who said anything about a haven? I have a feeling that if the old man has it way, the White Deer will soon become as exciting as any crypt or forgotten keep."
The man turns back to Vorn and the others as Garridan leaves. "I believe I should go and retrieve my traveling equipment as well. I'm afraid my current attire isn't ideal for the road." Koveluss raps lightly on his paper-mache armor in emphasis. "I should also explain to good Drokus that he might have to postpone the opening of his new show for a bit. At least he'll have the time to get the rigging straitened away."
Turning around on the stoop of the White Deer, Garridan jabs his finger back towards the small group, "It most certainly will not! You want all that hubbub and commotion, you go to Ameiko's!" before he enters back into the Inn.
Chuckling a little, Vorn nods to the three, "Alright, I have someone in mind who owes me a favor. Gather whatever supplies you need, meet me at the Rusty Dragon in a couple of hours."
with another kurt nod, he turns and leaves the three to their choices.
For most of Sandpoint, the day is really just getting started; shops are opening, fresh foods are hitting the tables and children are taking to the streets and fields for playtime before being caught and set to chores by their mothers.
For the Pixie's Kitten, the day is just ending. While the really raucous business always ends around the early hours of the morning, there are always late customers, and aside from that, it's pretty common for any of the girl's last clients to end up spending the night.
So Toban finds himself in the same position he's often in. Standing to one side of the brothel's common room, quiet and watchful, as half a dozen men - some bashful or shamed, others seemingly proud - and even a couple women who aren't workers, exit the kitten to the morning light.
As they do, some of the girls go about tidying up the commons, a large foyer room filled with plush furniture, pillows and a variety and candles to give just the right lighting.
As he watches over the small crowd leaving, Toban is approached by a ravishing young beauty. With a slim waist, ample bosom, thick auburn hair, full lips and sparkling eyes that absolutely shine when she smiles and dressed in a slinky purple shift that covered all the right places and nothing else, Rowena had the power to make any man melt. Except Toban, of course, after all she was his sister.
"You've a visitor, Toby." she smiles playfully at him, nodding her head backwards to the door.
Entering the brothel is Vorn, Deputy of the guard and one of the two reasons that Toban stayed out of jail after a particularly bad brawl with some korvosan merchants who were travelling through. The other reason was Sheriff Belor and his relationship with Kaye Tesarani, the Pixie's Madame and owner.
Andrin stands in a field of grass. Sky is pitch black and dotted with stars and the Horizon is aflame. The Fires dance higher and higher as two great armies of shadows clash around him. The scene shifts in a haze of black smoke, giving way to a line of slaves, shackled and whipped by twisting creatures of darkness. Watching over the procession is a faceless man, cackling to the wind. And above him in the sky - as large as a dragon - is a crow with a beak dripping of blood. The images shift away again. Andrin sees the plains outside of Sandpoint and the trail that leads south, towards the forest...
He wakes in a cold sweat with a scream echoing on his lips. Andrin sits in his bed in Valdemar manor, the sunlight streaming in through the glass doors that open onto his balcony terrace. The sounds of footsteps are heard clammering outside the door, before a frantic knock comes, followed by the voice of Telmar, The Elven butler who has served the family for generations. His voice quivering with concern, "Master Andrin!? Sir, are you alright?"
He shakes his head with a small grin upon his face at the old man's outburst towards the three of them. Slowly, as a small moment of silence passes over the group of three, his face returns to its typical solemn and contemplative demeanor.
"Well, you two..." he nods his head towards Yosrick and Koveluss, "I need to collect my things. Shall we meet at the Dragon in say -- an hour or so? We can make proper introductions then."
Koveluss grins. "The Dragon it is. Until then, take care."
The actor heads back down the street to the Sandpoint Theater. Pausing at the door, he carefully opens it and peeks inside. He makes his way quietly into the building. "It'll be easier if I can get in, collect my equipment, and get out without Drokus seeing me. I'll leave him a note. He shouldn't get to angry, and he'll understand. Once he calms down, that is."
He nods in agreement and turns heel, heading back towards his office. As always, he takes alternate routes as his paranoia controls his typical routines, giving him opportunities to check to see if he's followed.
Yosrick frowns. He knows he shouldn't, he knows he should avoid the stuff, but the temptation is too much. He heads to the Dragon and orders a glass of strong liquor.
Andrin wakes to find himself sitting bolt upright in bed, his hair dripping with sweat and his body tangled in a heap of linens. The sightless glaze in his eyes fades as he turns his attention to the door and the concerned voice from the other side.
Այո, այո Telmar. Ես տուգանք. Այն պարզապես -
Knowing verbal assurances won't assuage the kind elf's concerns, Andrin untangles himself from his sheets and hastily wraps his trim frame in a robe before sweeping over to the door and opening it.
Andrin greets his servant and friend with a smile then offers, Telmar. Thank you, honestly, for your earnest concern and I'm sorry if my outburst upset you in any way. I had... it, it was a terrible dream and to be honest, I still find myself quite shaken by it. Would you mind making some tea and joining me on the terrace?
Toban stands in his usual corner, his usual stone faced look plastered across his face. It took some getting used to but the events at the Pixies Kitten no longer affect him. He just keeps an eye on the men and a few women that spent the night the night before because sometimes they don't want to leave.
He relaxes a little as it looks like the morning is going to pass uneventfully. When his cousin approaches him he smiles and then she uses...that...name for him.
"I told you not to call me that" he says "Or do I need to let it slip to your mother that their little princess entertained a party of six last night?" he teased back raising an eyebrow before setting his nodachi against the wall and walking over to Vorn.
He sighs and forces a smile as he approaches the deputy. "What can I do for you today Vorn?"
Rowena laughs, a sound that manages to be throaty and feminine all at once, "Who do you think she'd be more mad at? Me, or you for letting it happen?" grinning like a Cheshire cat she waggles her eyebrows as she saunters away saying, "Besides, if you did, you'd have nothing to hold against me... but I can always call you Toby."
Vorn nods to Toban - though his eyes linger for just a fraction on Rowena's posterior - and he clears his throat. "Toban," he greets - curt and to the point, as the man always is. - "I've group of concerned citizens who are setting out to track down The Burned Man. I'd like you to join them."
Telmar offers Andrin and warm - though somewhat worried - smile. The Elf is old, though at least six hundred, but whether by his character or his heritage he carries it well. His long blonde hair shows the faintest hints of grey and is pulled back into a loose ponytail. His eyes are a deep blue, like swirling pools, and still as bright and alert as any Andrin has ever seen. Any wrinkles are the elf's face are from laughter and smiles, not age.
"Of course Andrin," he answers, after a weighted pause, "I'll be there momentarily." He turns and heads back into the manor to fetch the tea.
Andrin's terrace is made of fine stone and clay, with a waist high fence of wrought iron encircling it. There's a small patio table and set of chairs - where he and Telmar often converse.
A few moments later Telmar returns with a tray laden with a beautifully crafted teapot and two cups - which he sets down on the table. "Tell me of this dream?"
Andrin pulls out one of the patio chairs and settles into it then pours himself a cup of tea. He cups it in both hands and holds it just beneath his face, inhaling deeply and relishing the warmth and fragrance of the drink.
"It was like none other I've ever experienced, Telmar. A year ago I'd have said it was just some fevered dream and brushed it aside, but after the events of last summer," he hesitates for a moment here, his eyes flitting from roof to window to cloud, "after what happened to me, well I can't very well discount it, can I?"
He smirks as he glances to Telmar. "And were you anyone else, I'd expect you to question my faculties after hearing this." Telmar silently sips his tea, a soft compassion in his eyes as he listens to his master. At Andrin's pause, the distinguished elf bids him continue with a polite nod of his greying head.
"I was in a field, a field of grass green as emeralds. A dark sky shone above. There were stars, but that is not why it shone. The horizon, all of the horizon was burning." An involuntary shudder shakes Andrin's shoulder as he says this and he takes a soothing sip of tea. "Then I saw two armies locked in ceaseless struggle around me - armies made of shadow and vapor. As they warred with one another, they wavered and were replaced by rows and rows of slaves. People shackled and whipped, their skin broken and festering. Above the slaves, jubilant in his cruelty, was a faceless man."
Andrin pauses and takes another sip of tea, his eyes holding the telltale glaze of one lost in a vibrant memory.
"And above the faceless man, hanging in the sky and rivaling the mightiest of dragons in size, was a jet black crow with a beak dripping blood. At the sight of the crow, the dream took me away again and I clearly recognized Sandpoint, the trail leading to the southern wood stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of the town - so sharply I would almost say it was glowing."
Andrin runs a hand through his neatly trimmed black hair and takes a shuddering breath. As he refils his cup with more of the soothing tea, his eyes hesitantly drift up and seek out Telmar's.
Yosrick sits at his table at the Dragon, waiting for the others to arrive. He's on his third glass of rotgut liquor, staring deep in the nearly empty glass, seeing the usual ghosts. His mother. His errant father. The empty spot at the table. The grief that eats him. The disappointment he became, exploring underground passages while his mother died. The world closes around him, trapping him alone with the liquor and his thoughts. He's barely conscious of the barmaid, taking away the empty glass, or Ameiko replacing it with a glass of mineral water. He's too far gone for that.
Toban narrows his eyes as Vorn's eyes linger. He then listens as the man explains that his services are needed. Well I'll gladly help but who's to protect Rowena from you? he asks rather matter of factly. Then he thinks for a second and says loudly so Rowena can over hear him Then again I'm sure you'll do nothing that she wouldn't like so why protect her. Besides I've not heard her say no in quite some time.
Vorn's eyes flash with anger, his jaw twists and his fists clench. He's forward in an instant, light glinting off the iron linked chain - marking him a follower of Gorum - as his fist knots around the front of Toban's tunic. "Question my honor again pup!" the fiery guardsman growls, and for a moment Toban is sure he's about to have a fight.
But then Rowena is between the two, giving Toban an annoyed look that seems to say The hell were you thinking?! before smiling to Vorn. Toby's just havin a go, cause he'd know I'd happily invite you up anytime Vorn. Free of charge." She bats her eyelashes and smiles that platinum smile.
Vorn's grimace stays, but his cheeks flush a deep red. Stepping back and clearing his throat he says, "I apologize Rowena, Toban you can find the other members of the expedition, the detective Grizwold, the Yosrick lad and that Vossare boy from the theatre, at the Rusty Dragon. They plan to depart in two hours." Without waiting for an answer he nods and leaves the Kitten.
Daemon makes his way back to his office, and as far as he can tell nothing is out of the ordinary on the way there, or at the office.
When he arrives at the Theatre, Koveluss finds that Drokus hip deep tearing the costume room to pieces alongside his costume director - the perfect time to slip by unseen!
[spoiler=Perception DC 16]As Yosrick slumps over the bar, he can hear Ameiko speaking to the bargirl in hushed towns on the other end of the counter "...no I'm not joking. You give him another drop of alcohol and I'll sack you."
Andrin's eyes find Telmar's peering over through the steam of his tea with a soft smile glimmering in them. The elf simply watches for long moments, before his voice breaks the silence between them, "I have always found it very strange that the more "civilized" your people become, the less stock you all place in the realms of dreams and visions." He pauses his thought to take a long sip of his tea, his lips pursing at the taste of lemon that lingers before he continues, "Really I find it baffling. It's not as if you don't know that magic and other worlds exist... I have no easy answer for you Andrin. Save to say that your choices are to ignore it... or to not."
Once to his office, he'll collect his things. Placing his shield upon his back, after collecting his backpack, he leaves the office an latches the lock.
He departs the place, saying a small prayer to himself to protect it and himself on his upcoming journey. Leaving the building, he heads for the Rusty Dragon. Upon entering, he'll find Yosrick sloshed at the bar.
Plopping himself down next to the boy, he'll pull an Alchemist Kindness potion from his bag, and place it in front of Yosrick. "Drink this kiddo - you'll thank me later."
Koveluss does his best to avoid notice as he sneaks behind the stage where his equipment is stashed away. He shrugs off the stage armor, quickly scrawls a note to Drokus, and pins it to the costume. He then shoulders his back, straps his belt to his waist, and sneaks out once more.
Koveluss arrives at the Rusty Dragon shortly after Daemon. Vossare drops onto the stool next to the investigator with a grin on his face and points at the potion. "That taste any good? And did you bring enough for everyone?"
Yosrick looks at Daemon, not really recognizing, or you suspect, seeing him. He mumbles something about hating the taste. but downs the potion in one long gulp. A few moments later, he shudders all over, and rubs his eyes.
"Gods, that stuff hurts worse the second time. Cripes, is it time already? Gimme a moment, I'm ready to go." He belches loudly, the smell of it enough to kill small animals. He apologizes in a mumble and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.
Toban uses all his inner control to not strike back at Vorn, reminding himself that it was because of Vorn he was even able to keep his job with the guard house and start working here at the Kitten. As Rowena intervenes Toban blushes a little at having to be "saved" by his little cousin. Thanks...but I had it handled. I wonder why they want me to accompany them...oh well only one way to find out. He says and then kisses the top of Rowena's head I'll see you when I get back, let the others know that I won't be here for the next few weeks and tell them to try and stay out of trouble. He then leans in a little closer and looks into Rowena's eyes And that goes double for you, I won't be here to keep you safe.
With that he leaves the Pixies Kitten and head out to the guard house to grab the rest of his belongings and to let his superiors know that Vorn has asked for his assistance in a matter and he won't be at work for a few days. He then makes a quick stop at his Aunt and Uncles house to let them know he will be leaving before ending up at the Rusty Dragon to meet up with the rest of his new found companions.
Andrin listens to Telmar intently, nodding along as the elf speaks. He then smiles, "Ah, do not chide us too harshly, Telmar. You must understand, my people are not as fortunate to see as much as yours. We are the grass of the fields, here today and gone the next. Our lives do not span centuries and as such, we typically only have the hearing of stories. And it is one thing to hear stories of fantastical things, and another thing entirely to truly experience them."
He takes a final sip of his tea, disappointment briefly flashes across his face as he realizes the cup is now dry. "But you are, as always, right in what you say. I can heed my dream or dismiss it. But let's say I were to heed it. What am I to do? Am I to wander in the forest on my own then? I've heard the tales of late, Telmar, and those woods are not kind to travelers." As he speaks, Andrin's eyes drift away from Telmar and out over Sandpoint and all the hustle and bustle of the streets below. His grandfather helped establish this glorious town, and Andrin realized that if it were under threat, there is nothing he would like to do more than defend his grandfather's legacy - his home.
"Sorry, bub, these things don't come cheap. Only reason I let my Deputy here have one is because we don't have time to wait for his drunken stupor to pass" he replies to Koveluss.
He nods in response to Yosrick's question of it being time, but looking to answer Koveluss first. "You're that Actor, aren't you? I've seen your name on some posters around town of an upcoming show. Why in the hells would you want to join an expedition to go against The Burned Man?"
As Toban makes his way up the road...
The large three story wooden building is the first structure one would encounter after crossing the southern bridge entrance into Sandpoint, The building has a distinctly Tian style to its architecture and is marked by a sizable writhing iron dragon that looms over travellers from the building's roof; time and weather have taken a toll on the sculpture's iron form, which undoubtedly is the source of the tavern's name.
In front of the Inn's covered patio is the Dragon's ubiquitous “Help Wanted” Sign that provides a well-known way-point for townsfolk and travellers alike hire mercenaries, adventurers, guards, handymen, and others possessing such interests.
Lick the Licktoads!: A worn brown poster of parchement depicts a somewhat crude drawing of a severed goblin's head. Under which is written: For four years now, our fair town's been blessed with an absence of Goblin attacks, but recently one particularly brazen tribe, the Licktoads, have been causin g troubles. Daviren Hosk of the Goblin Squash Stables is offering 50 GP a head for every Goblin kill that can be proven!
The common room inside manages to be both grand and have a rustic quality to it all the same. A large open space made most of redwoods, with columns risising every so often to support the ceiling. The A set of stairs climbs the right wall to the second floor, where the Dragon's rooms for rent are kept. The main bar sits along the back wall. There's a black woodstove with pipes running up to the ceiling that heats the tavern during the winter months. To the left is a raised and fenced off section of table just to it's left. The raised section sports a long table with a number of cushioned chairs around it – with a number of old and beaten weapons hanging on the wall beside it. The section is colloquially dubbed “Ameiko's Table” and is reserved for Ameiko and any of her invited guests, though in all honesty the Adventurer turned noblewoman is down to earth enough the she rarely uses the section, the last time being when the town Hosted the “Knights of Sandpoint.” Then on the left hand wall is a raised stage, which Ameiko – or other performers – often take adventage of.
The rest of the often boisterous common room is taken up by a scattering of tables and chairs.
"You've found me out. I need a break from the Theater; Drokus is in a huff over the play. It just isn't coming together the way he'd like." Kovellus grins before continuing. "Of course, Drokus wouldn't be happy unless Shelyn herself gave the play a standing ovation. If you ask me, things are progressing fine."
The man adds almost as an afterthought. "If your worried about my ability to fend for myself, don't be. I know how to swing a sword well enough, and I assure you the paper-mache armor I was wearing earlier will not be coming with me."
Though Koveluss' words are true, it's clear that the man is holding something back; he has additional reasons for joining the group that he's not sharing.
"Well... I suppose you leaving the paper-mache armor behind is... 'Reassurance enough'." He scratches the back of his neck, his voice obviously a bit sarcastic. "Well, at the very least, an introduction is in order. I am Daemon - a private detective. I can't recall your name?"
He offers his hand, which was scratching his neck, to Koveluss in introduction.
"My name is Koveluss Vossare, Daemon. It is a pleasure to meet you." Koveluss readily takes the offered hand and grasps it firmly. "Between my sword, your deductive skills, and the Deputy's frightful breath, I think we'll be able to track down this bandit lord in short order."
"My breath is a sacred... BURP... duty, entrusted to me by the gods to ensure the righteous can continue to live in peac... Yeah, I got nothing. I'm Yosrick, recently and apparently deputized. Gawds, sobering up is a pain."
He lets out a short burst laugh, "Yosrick it is, then. And... If you think it's a pain for you, then you're more inebriated than I thought!" He smiles for a moment, however his serious demeanor returns to his features. "Now... to business. We really do need to come up with a plan."
His eyes trail away from the two, along the bar - his eyes locking upon Amiko, "And, I do believe we should start with some questions of Ms. Kaijitsu."