In Search of Heroes

Game Master verdigris

Othoe is pleased to be headed back to the relative safety of the town.

The trek back to the town is mostly uneventful. The dilapidated cabin is barely visible through the trees off in the distance; apparently the companions had mislaid the trail on the way out due to the weather. Cold and weary, they make the sight of town just before sunset.

I want a beer", announces Chrystosm.

"Then I want another beer, and after that, more beer. And something hot to eat. And a nice, long sleep. And no more wolves"

Kast limps back into town, more comfortable in his old, well-fitting and well-worn armor than the cramped and busty she-knight's that he had been wearing. Kast hobbles a little quicker as they get closer, eager to return to a place that he hopes will someday be his future home...when the fighting is over.

It's probably almost over. Just need to get things straightened out with Kreel and find a job...

Kast will head directly to the Quacking Buck to see, uhm, if someone is around...the face that makes this place home.

* * *

"Fleur? You around?" Kast says, joining Chrysto in search of food and drink.

Kast runs up to his room to dump his backpack and gear while waiting for food.

* * *

In the morning, as usual, Kast will arise early for his routine. Today, Kast feels better and stronger for his experiences with the box. Between the fights and walking and everything else, combined with the full night of rest and food and a warm bed, Kast's morning bardichery seems to have achieved another plateau. His movements seem swifter, stronger and his aim has improved.

This is a good weapon. Now to find something silver to pair with it.

After practice, meditation, and breakfast, Kast will pack up his knight armor, and see if others are around to go to the blacksmith's.

"Chrysto? Nimeon? Othoe? Dorial or Simon? Anyone want to go visit the blacksmith? I'm taking the armor in and going to look at silver weapons. Anyone want to go?"

Othoe returns to Simons for the time being.

I really need to find a place of my own. If I only had the cash, I'd build a small hut, with a reading room for my studies. A nice small two room dwelling would be perfect. Well, maybe three - the kitchen should be separate after all. A central chimney though of course - shared fire for warmth.

After Othoe daydreams a while he falls fast asleep. In the morning he prepares his new spell list.

"Sure I'll go with you Kast. I need nothing from the blacksmith, but it'll keep my legs from cramping in the morning cold - and the smithy is likely to be quite warm!"

Othoe bundles up for the cold and joins Kast on his mission.

Chrystosm, looking like something in the bargain department of a Gebite necromancer's supply store, shambles in.

"I am never drinking Black Velvets again. Never, never, never."

He sits down heavily, rests his head in his hands for a minute, then looks up at Kast, squinting and frowning.

"It's too bright and I can't really think straight, but I seem to remember ordering a masterwork rapier from him. I'll come, once I've put my head under the pump"

Kast looks upon Chrystosm with only some pity.

"C'mon Chyrsto...let's get you cleaned up. I thought you were going to bed soon after me...apparently I was wrong. Will this teach you to remember proper balance and moderation?"

I doubt it. This one doesn't honor Irori as I do.

While Chrysto is cleaning himself up, Kast will give him a quick sermon about the virtues of order and balance and how keeping oneself in a state of harmony leads to greater understanding of life and power.

* * *

"C'mon, Othoe. You seem to know the most about the Hellknights. I mean, I think I can keep some of the Hellknight imagery, right?"

Kast drags out the Hellknight beastplace for the blacksmith, clearly excited to explain the work needed.

"We found it abandoned, don't worry. I'm wondering if you'll work on it to fit me better." Kast stands straight so the smith can see his build and compare it favorably to how the breastplate is aligned. "Would you be able to re-fit the armor for me? Also, my little gnome friend here has some thoughts about what to do with the Hellknight insignias."

Kast looks to Othoe to chip in.

Personally, I think the Hellknight stuff is pretty cool looking. I'd need it modified towards something more unique, but I think it's strong icon.

"Sigh.."

Is he trying to get us all killed?

"No Kast, we must obliterate those insignias. You could keep this here, and that bit there, but not the whole thing. It is very nice looking, and powerful, but it's part of the Hellknight Heraldic code, and we don't want to violate that."

Othoe looks around for a sharp stick to poke in his eye.

He turns to the blacksmith, "Do you think you can do this quickly? I know Kast is very much interested in the armor - properly fit and cleansed of course."

"Sure Kast, we can go. I still don't have the money I need for the bowyer so I won't be buying anything but if you need help getting all your bits into that breastplate I'll watch."

Dorial arrives in town, a torn look on her face. She stares long down a few of the streets before nodding and heads off into the direction of Laurel's.

"I'll meet up with everyone in the morning at the normal place?"

*************

At Laurel's, Dorial talks about their adventure to meet with Nimeon's father and the offer she had to go with him. The rest of the evening she spends looking over the different herbs and potions that Laurel has.

*************

In the morning, refreshed and feeling bolder, Dorial meditates for an hour before heading to the Sitting Duck.

I can feel myself getting closer to that dream every day. Soon, I'll be truly free.

@ the Sitting Duck

"Good morning Kast, Nimeon, Othoe..." she looks to Chrystosm, "Did you even sleep last night?"

.. conversation ensued

"I'll travel with to the smithy, but I don't think there's anything there for me."

As soon as the party reaches town, Simon runs straight to Laurel's house, worried for her safety while the threat of cultists still looms.

Othoe turns his pockets inside out and back inside.

I need cash. Where to get cash?

Doh!

Slamming his head for the third time that day (thanks to Dorial for one of them ooc!) he takes out the treasure box he's been carrying around and studying. He gives it another look...

Spellcraft 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

I wonder what this is worth? Eh, probably nothing...

Sigh.

"Anyone else want to take a look at this? I can't figure it out. Seems like an empty box to me."

"Anyone else want to take a look at this? I can't figure it out. Seems like an empty box to me."

"Why don't we take it to Brickasnurd? Your fellow gnome? He seemed really friendly. Might be knowledgeable." Kast offers helpfully.

Dorial looks at the box. "Let me see that."

Cast detect magic

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

Dorial thinks for a bit, "Nope, not a clue."

The regulars at The Sitting Duck along with Eli and Fleur are very happy to welcome the traveler's home and spill over with news from the last several days.

While cooling his heels in the cells at the Sheriff's office, Drelk killed one of the other guards and fled into the big storm that hit a couple days back.. The rest of the sheriff's men are out now but most doubt that he'll be found now, "If he lived, he's probably half way to Almas by now..." observes one old timer.

Three other people were found to have scarab marks on their feet. Additionally, one of the staff at The Rouge Lady remembered three guests, two men and a woman, having visited the basement area of the place 3 months back. Said to have "peculiar tastes", even for basement fans, the girl remembers them all having similar markings in very hard to reach areas.

Of the three townsfolk found, two are dead and one hovers in and out of consciousness, as they each tried to poison themselves when found out. The last one is being held at the Sheriff's place, hopefully with more skill than Drelk had been.

Simon and Dorial are both greeted warmly by Laurel at their return, assuring Simon that though the Sheriff was most embarrassed by it, she has been "completely" checked for "scar'ing" as the townsfolk have taken to calling it, and been cleared. Otherwise than the intense embarrassment from that, she is perfectly fine.

**********************************

The next day, the black smith greets the companions (those that attend at any rate) nicely enough, though he is not pleased to see such armor in his shop. "Where did you say it came from, Friend?" though he doesn't sound all that friendly at all.

Kast tells the story of the two dead frozen abominations that tried to keep them for the heat of their hearts, going into a description of how cold and evil they were and going as far as to show the blacksmith the scar.

"...so yeah, I know it ain't pretty. But I need something to protect me from things like them frozen things. And werewolves. So, if you can help me get this armor made right so I can protect this town, I'd be appreciative."

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20 Diplomacy

Chrystosm's realised that visiting a blacksmith with a hangover is not a good idea.

"We found it in the woods. It was hidden in a cabin previously occupied by two Chelish nobles, running from the People's Revolt"

Ow. Ow ow. Ow ow ow

"They're dead now"

He asks politely if his rapier's finished, then goes and waits outside, away from the hammering.

Sensing Othoe's obvious unease, Dorial grabs his arm and drags him out of the smithy. "Come on Othoe, lets go see Brick and sell some stuff."

Dorial will 'attempt' to drag Othoe away from Kast and off to the shop.

Nimeon stands quietly as the soldier/scholar does his best to explain his new armor.

I wonder if he's noticed it has a weak spot? Probably not.

Once he's sure the Blacksmith has the point about the heraldic symbols, Othoe willingly heads off with Dorial to Brick's.

Kast might not get it, but I bet the smith will. I hope!

He nods quietly, "yeah, it does sound like you need something, or you'll end up dog meat or frozen or some such." But he listens to Othoe as well, even grimacing as he looks over the Chelish heraldry.

"I think I can get rid of it, but it seems a shame to waste all this silver once I get it out. There's bits of cold iron as well. I tell you what, let me keep 'em and I'll give you half price on the re-work price?"

Kast smiles and shrugs.

"Sure. That'll do nicely. Shall I wait outside for it? How long will it take? This afternoon, maybe?"

Kast is clearly excited about his new armor and leaves to go track down Dorial and Othoe at Brick's.

At the Goose and Gander...

Brickasnurd is hard at work when you get there, pulling things from the top shelf for Kreed's weaselly assistant. "That should do it, archibald. Remember, three times a day, and next time, double check your work before you finalize. I won't always be able to fix your errors, you know!"

As the bell on the door rings, he turns towards it, his admonishing frown blooming to a full on smile at the sight of Othoe and company.

"Well if it isn't my cousin, so far from home! Welcome, Othoe. I hadn't heard you had returned to town just yet." clambering down, he excuses Archibald, the poor boy almost immediately dismissed in favor of new company.

"and Dorial, is it? Yes, dear, a pleasure to finally meet you. I've ahhh, heard so much about you." Crossing the floor to his primary countertop, he climbs back up the steps (as the counters are human sized with small folk adaptations out of view).

"Now, to what do I owe this distinct pleasure, Othoe?"

"We seem to be having some difficulty identifying this box."

He hands it over to Brickasnurd.

"We found it on our travels. It's clearly magical, but it's exact nature is difficult to pin down. I was wondering if you have the ability to identify what it might be - and maybe put a price on it's value?"

"We have a variety of needs as a group, and we're hoping this little box will go some way to meeting those needs."

"Do you deal in magical goods? If I can scrape some cash together, there are one or two itesm I may wish to purchase from you."

Brick takes the box, turning it this way and that. He swings the broken lock on the drawer round three times, murmuring quietly to himself. "Hmmm, perhaps I can help you, young Othoe, perhaps I can. It may take me awhile, though." Shrewd and assessing, he finally sets the box down.

"I tell you what I can do for you, Othoe. I don't want to take up all of Dorial's valuable time. I know that *someone* will be very glad to see her back in fact. Oh Yes, don't look at me like that, young lady. The merchant hears many things, he does. But as I was saying... Othoe, you should bring the box back this evening. We'll have tea... and chat. I'm sure we have plenty to discuss and that will free Miss Dorial for ...whatever."

His head tips to one side, a stray lock of purple and silver falling over one eye, "how's that sound?"

Othoe looks sidelong at Dorial.

"That would be most agreeable. Until tea then!"

Othoe heads back out into the cold, shrugs, and returns.

"One more thing before I really go. I don't suppose you have a good winter coat do you?"

"A coat? Oh yes! I have just the thing. Right this way, Come, come..." He hustles back out from behind the counter and down around a display towards the back, turning around at the last to hurry Othoe forward.

"Oh yes, with your coloring this will be just the thing. Not everyone can wear fuschia, you know." as he pulls a classically cut gnome over cloak, with wide sleeves. "The sleeves are too long, of course, but I can take them up. Here, try it on, please. I can't let you walk out in anything less than perfect, no no no... it wouldn't do. I have my reputation to think of." Giving a slight laugh at that, he pulls out a tape measure and waits for Othoe to try on the cloaky-coat thing.

Othoe tries it on and tries not to think of a straight-jacket. Still would that be so bad? It is warm!

Kast limps into Brick's eagerly.

"Othoe! Did you open the box?" Kast asks as he enters the shoppe before seeing Othoe trying on warm weather gear.

"Oh hey, Othoe. What's up with the box?" Kast comes in a looks for coat of his own while jibberjabbering.

"So yeah, the smith said he could remove the Hellknight insignias...since you seem not to like them much. He's even going to give me a discount for the silver and cold iron therein." Kast tries on a rabbitfur jacket...but takes it off.

Too pretentious.

"Do you really think a Hellknightish logo would be a problem? It's not full Hellknight, but could be reminiscent." Kast tries on another jacket...this one of

"What do you think of this one, Othoe? Dorial?" Kast spins weakly and realizes that sable is not quite his look.

Reaching out, he takes another large sized one off the shelf and puts it on.

Foxfur, huh? I like this one.

"What about this one? I could be a Hellknight snow knight in this, right?"

Nimeon shakes his head as Kast prattles on about Hellknights and the equipping thereof.

"Brick do you have enough winter clothing to outfit our little group? We've some hunting to do and the shift in weather caught us off guard last week."

Chrystosm, still looking like rigor mortis has only just started wearing off, shakes his head vigorously at Kast's words, then wishes he hadn't.

"Agh! No... Sorry. What I meant to say was, do you really think it's a good idea to wander around town sporting Hellknight insignia in the company of two people with strong Chelish accents?"

He points to Othoe and himself.

"Besides, I do *not* want to be reminded of my wasted youth each time your manly chest hoves into view", he continues, grumpily, then gazes blearily about him at the shop's stock.

Fur coat. Frilly boots. All I need is a powder-blue hat with a big feather in it and I can set up for a Taldan pimp - a dream come true!

The cloak is room, and definitely warm. Quilted in fuschia and trimmed in periwinkle it is brightly gnomish and smells faintly of sweet tobacco.

Brickasnurd startles as the rest of the group catches up with Othoe. "For the whole group? Oh dear, I will have to look. I'm sure I have just what you need, but it may take me a minute. Now, what's all this about a Hellknight invasion?" Brickasnurd laughs merrily, peering at Othoe and Chrystosm with a crinkle-eyed waggle of his luxuriant eyebrows.

Simon spends the day back at his home, the first in a long time. It's thick with dust after months of being left unattended, yet the bachelor spends no time in cleaning. With a familiar rusted iron cauldron, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils, Simon begins learning to craft potions. Any veteran of the trade would see that he progresses far too quickly, almost as if something guides him along the way...

Craft (alchemy) for CLW potion: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

...and they would also see that he still has a long way to go.

Perception 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15 vs DC 12

"Very nice cloak good sir - very warm. I'll take it! What do you want for it?"

I presume -8gp for cold weather gear.

"Othoe! Did you open the box?" Kast asks as he enters the shoppe before seeing Othoe trying on warm weather gear.

"Oh hey, Othoe. What's up with the box?" Kast comes in a looks for coat of his own while jibberjabbering.

"So yeah, the smith said he could remove the Hellknight insignias...since you seem not to like them much. He's even going to give me a discount for the silver and cold iron therein." Kast tries on a rabbitfur jacket...but takes it off.

Foxfur, huh? I like this one.

"What about this one? I could be a Hellknight snow knight in this, right?"

"Brickasnurd is going to help me with the box. We're going to check it out later today when he's had a chance to prepare."

He looks over the foxfur coat.

"That is a nice look for you. I'm glad you're seeing sense with the armor - and that it means a discount! Double bonus."

@Othoe:

"Eight? Oh no, Sir. I couldn't let it go so cheaply. Not for 8 or even 800. Tis a shame too, because it looks so dashing upon you. This is most unfortunate. But let me see what I have in the back. " The man seems truly saddened not to be able to dress Othoe in the fine cloak as he wont to do.

Dorial looks around the room, obviously trying to hide something. "Uh, I don't know who would be waiting for me."

Seeing the conversation turn to that of coats, Dorial begins browsing the shop. "Do you have anything in white? If possible, an entire outfit would be preferable." She smiles as her cheeks turn red.

@Othoe:

"Eight? Oh no, Sir. I couldn't let it go so cheaply. Not for 8 or even 800. Tis a shame too, because it looks so dashing upon you. This is most unfortunate. But let me see what I have in the back. " The man seems truly saddened not to be able to dress Othoe in the fine cloak as he wont to do.

800!!!!

"My dear friend, I could go 80 for such a fine cloak, but 800! Wow, I had no idea."

Othoe checks himself after examining the pockets.

"So, er, I could pay more for this fine cloak, but, hum. Well the fact is I don't have the cash. We're hoping that box I showed you is worth something."

"Maybe keep it in the back for me. It is very fine."

You fool. You've never spent that much money in your life - let alone on a cloak!

Hush. It'll be fine. My precious...

Othoe smooths the perfectly clean ruffles and reluctantly takes the fine garment off.

Othoe, my young friend, use the cloak for right now, then return it to me this evening, when you come for tea and we'll discuss it along with your broken little box there." The bell on the door rings and Brickasnurd excuses himself for a moment to help another customer.

After another moment, he returns, this time with a fine white garment of leather over one arm, and addresses Dorial,"White is your color, my dear. Do try it on over here. It is not as dear as Othoe's cloak, mind you, but it is still fine quality."

Kast takes off the foxfur coat and re-hangs it.

"Maybe I'll get another day. I worry already about paying to get the armor re-fit, let alone on what I'll be doing here when we finish with the box."

Kast pats his meager coin purse.

I should also look into a silvered weapon. Someday.

* * *

If there is nothing else planned (like Othoe's dinner plans), Kast will spend the day practicing with his bardiche and his hourly checks on the blacksmith to see how the work on the armor progresses.

Othoe wraps the cloak around himself and heads out into the cold, feeling it just a little bit less then he did a moment ago.

A cloak that never gets dirty. Dear god in heaven!

Just to measure up, Othoe casts Prestidigitation to clean himself up to the cloaks standards. He pays special attention to his fingernails polishing them to a high gleam before continuing on. He'll then shift the things around in the cloak so the first pocket is empty and proceed to Simons.

That morning/afternoon he'll scribe two scrolls (Burning Hands(2) and Knock(3)) using the last of his magical inks. He'll then rush back to the shop for his tea.

Dorial's eyes light up when she sees the leather. "That's very pretty Mr. Brick. Give me a few minutes to slip into it."

Dorial takes the outfit from Brick and heads behind the curtain in the back. She returns a few minutes later, her fluffy hood pulled up around her face. Her pale face almost blends in to the white outfit. Her cheeks redden and her eyes sparkle as she pulls the hood down behind her head. "So boys, what do you think?"

She twirls in place, obviously enjoying the outfit.

Kast takes off the foxfur coat and re-hangs it.

"Maybe I'll get another day. I worry already about paying to get the armor re-fit, let alone on what I'll be doing here when we finish with the box."

Kast pats his meager coin purse.

I should also look into a silvered weapon. Someday.

* * *

If there is nothing else planned (like Othoe's dinner plans), Kast will spend the day practicing with his bardiche and his hourly checks on the blacksmith to see how the work on the armor progresses.

"Oh, but it looks so good on you." Brickasnurd says with a sigh.

*************

On the third such check, the blacksmith sighs with exasperation, "Enough already, soldier. You might as well come be useful then to keep leaving and interrupting. Here. Take this. Like so, Now up. Now down. Go on." Handing off the bellows work to Kast, he goes back to doing more skilled portion of the work, hammering and heating the armor as needed to work it into shape. The Chelish details are slowly sloughed off, to be cleaned up afterward.

"OH BOY!" Kast says as he begins to work the bellows with childlike abandon...first too fast, but eventually giving a nice good rhythm.

And to think I was wasting my time practicing with my bardiche!

Kast will work and do whatever the smith asks, spending his time fidgeting in a chair awaiting another chance to help when between tasks.

Best. Day. Ever.

Dorial's eyes light up when she sees the leather. "That's very pretty Mr. Brick. Give me a few minutes to slip into it."

Dorial takes the outfit from Brick and heads behind the curtain in the back. She returns a few minutes later, her fluffy hood pulled up around her face. Her pale face almost blends in to the white outfit. Her cheeks redden and her eyes sparkle as she pulls the hood down behind her head. "So boys, what do you think?"

She twirls in place, obviously enjoying the outfit.

Wow

"Wow! Er, ahem... Very nice! Suits you! Slimming!"

Good, good. Now stop staring. It's not professional

Hot druids in leeaaather.

STOP IT! You're not 13 any more!

Hot druids in leeaaather. Hot druids in leeaaather!!

"I'm going outside. It's too hot druids in l... Hot. Hot buns. Buns in the oven. Like an oven in here. Oh gods. 'Scuse me!

He runs out, possibly to dunk his head in a horse trough, as there is a loud hiss shortly afterwards, clouds of steam billowing up into the cold morning air.

Dorial turns back to Brick, "I'll take it! How much?"

She pulls out her coin purse and begins counting coins.

Simon bottles his first potion and saves it away in his bag, unsure if the brew will help.

Searching about town for his friends, a torrent of words followed by a bolting Chrystosm alert the herbalist to their presence at the shop. "Hey, er, there.." Chyrsto runs straight past Simon and dunks his head in a trough. that was unexpected! Peeking slowly around the corner into the shop, Simon tries to catch a glimpse of what sent the man fleeing from the building.

Ahhh, that must be it, hopefully our foes will be as distracted by Dorial as our allies are.

Smiling widely, Simon walks into the shop. "Good day, friends, looks like we'll be better prepared for the next excursion." Simon scowls at the fox fur cloak and moves away from it while a hand absently pets Llwynally.

Dorial finishes counting out her coins on the counter and slides them over to Brick, "There, 60g. That should cover it yes?"

She thanks him again for the outfit and then heads back outside, looking for the rest of the party. Or rather, should could be looking for the rest of the party if she wasn't wandering out town aimlessly, staring up at the sky.

The blacksmith keeps Kast busy all day, finally sending him off with assurances that it will be ready on the morrow.

Chrystosm nearly cracks his head open on the ice in the water trough, but succeeds in breaking through to the water beneath, soaking his hair in the frigid temperatures. This does seem to drive all thoughts of hot druidic buns from his mind, at least until Dorial nearly floats by in her stunning new leathers.

Simon bottles his first potion, and joins most of the companions for their evening's entertainments at The Sitting Duck.

Othoe, cleaned and primped to a high sheen, heads back to The Goose and Gander where Brickasnurd is just closing up.