Rain begins to fall.
"Besmara is the Pirate Queen, and many who take to a life of thievery on the high seas forget Gozreh in favor of her." The disdain in the man's voice is undisguised. "Calistria, the goddess of vengeance, lust, and everything the elves stand for." He sighs. "Elves..."
The rain trickles through carved channels into a floor basin. The priest steps forward and runs his hand through it. "Perhaps, traveler, you will receive Gozreh's blessing? If you would, do step forward."
Ameiko is one of the few still with the wagons. She looks up at the sky with a frown on her face, but a smile comes to her as she notices Sorin. "Tell me you found us an inn."
Lisabett remains with the caravan assisting the regular staff with whatever task she is strong or skilled enough to, having no particular desire to go to town. She was not exactly disgusted with the idea of sleeping in a bed, but of late she had felt far more... agreeable when left to her own devices. It was a difficult thought to countermand the good intentions of her captain, but the further north their troupe creeped, the less comfortable she was with any semblance of civilization.
And what great victories had she to drink to? That she continued to quarrel with her companions and stole the smile from her fellow's face? She glanced to Ulrick, Espen and Andres and considered them lost causes so far as drinking was concerned. An idea occurs to her, and her cheeks flame, but if Sandru was resolved to force her into a bed, she would deliver her terms.
Lisabett approaches the captain while he is making arrangements. She glances about almost nervously, as if uncertain how to carry herself around him. "I challenge you," she says in the trading tongue. "If you are to force me into a bed, you must first defeat me in the cups!"
Almar moves back to the caravan and joins Sandru:"So... any special reason we are not trading in this town? asks the gunslinger, quzzically, then before Sandru can answer, he adds:"Anyway I asked around for a good inn, seems like the locals enjoy a place called "The Oarsman"... We might want to try it out, what do you think?"
Sorin returns Ameiko's smile. "Indeed I have though I've yet to visit it. I was hoping the others would be here as well." he says as he glances around.
"Apparently, there's a rivalry of sorts going on in this town between some pirate lords and Alazandaru's old friends, the Sczarni. Some of the local inns aren't to be trusted as they're little more than fronts for the Sczarni where they accost you outright. I had the good fortune to run into a priest of Shelyn who recommended The Gnome's Nose that is run by a fellow who has connections to the Pathfinder Society; a group I confess I know little about."
"I was going to head back there to make sure there would be room for everybody though, supposedly, he usually has rooms aplenty as he doesn't advertise himself."
Sorin gives a small frown. "I get the feeling that this town is full of lawlessness and isn't safe for most folk; especially travelers. We'll need to be extra watchful here."
Sorin pauses and give Ameiko a discerning look, "So, how are you holding up? Shades of the past still haunting your mind?"
Raziel steps forward.
"I will accept Gozreh's blessing."
Setomi returns to the caravan and keeps to the cook wagon until Ameiko reurns and they decide what they are going to do.
"The Oarsman...hmm...that sounds familiar." Sandru scratches his chin, worry apparent on his features. "Ameiko has my purse. Go and tell her. And we shall certainly be trading, but this will be the last town in which we do so."
For a moment, it seems as if he will say more, but instead, he turns on his heel to meet Lisabett's eyes. "I will never force you into a bed, Lisabett." He wears a half-smirk, but his tone is serious. "But I will pay for a room in which you can stay, if you choose. And I will accept your challenge. But first...I must speak to my friend. And I must do so alone."
The priest scoops up some of the rainwater in his hands and pours it over your head. He does not speak, but instead, takes heaving breaths. For a second, it almost seems as if he is whispering something, but you cannot discern any words.
"There." he says as he finishes. "You have the blessing of the Wind and the Waves. Welcome to Roderic's Cove."
Ameiko grins broadly at Sorin. "Yes, from what I hear of this town, it is not so different from Sandpoint. It's only fault is its proximity to Riddleport." She cranes her neck to see who all might be milling about near the wagons. "And, yes, we should be extra watchful while we are here. We should keep an especial eye on our Ulfen comrades, I would say."
"As for me...I'm feeling...better." Ameiko inches closer to the paladin, her head bowed shyly. "Yet, I...Sorin, I will need you to-"
She whirls around suddenly. "Setomi! I did not see you there."
Setomi smiles and blushes, realizing that she may have stumbled onto a private conversation. "I'm sorry you two. I was just checking the supplies and making a list of things we might need. I did not mean to interrupt your conversation." With her head hung in embarrassment, she looks up through her bangs and winks at Ameiko before hurrying off to leave the two in peace.
Almar looks at Sandru, puzzled:"Very well. Another mysterious task you can do only alone? In the meanwhile I'll talk with Ameiko and will secure our lodgings at the Oarsman"
"Nothing mysterious, friend. A matter of favors and family, and not of you." Sandru's face is friendly, but his tone is stern. "But yes. Make the arrangements. I will meet you both soon."
With that, Sandru moves over to a nearby house, and leans against it. He looks from Almar to Lisabett, and tilts his head to the side.
It seems as if he wishes you two to make yourselves scarce.
"No! Setomi! It's fine!" Ameiko clasps her hands together. She looks as if she might laugh, but does not. "You should hear this too. Come in close."
Lisabett blanched at Sandru's admission that he would never force her into a bed, not for the content, but for her realization of how thoroughly she had failed to communicate her intent. Rounds at the mead hall were a method of alleviating boredom and improving camaraderie, and simply of celebrating life. She could not remember the last the group had, or indeed if they had ever.
She does not need to be dismissed by her captain twice. Uncomfortable in the city, she looks to Almar with blue eyes perhaps showing a bit too much white. "Should we test the quality of the mead at this hall?" she inquires. "If it is poor, we should try to find another. Bad mead strengthens some bonds, but where there is none..." she trails and sighs, "like as no it will sunder what little basis there might be."
Almar considers Lisabett's for a second before answering, cautiously:"So you basically want to test the ground before we hop in with all our people, to see if there's some danger ahead? And you think doing so might help us not end screaming at each other every time we meet? Seems like a good idea. Let's go." so saying Almar moves towards the village motioning for Lisabett to follow.
Setomi whispers back, "Even if I did not wish to honour my family’s debt to yours, we have been close friends for many years and I still count you as one of my best. I would follow you anywhere, Ameiko. I think, however, we should not discount our other travelling companions so quickly. Quarrelsome they may be, but when danger appears, they are quick to set aside their small differences and fight as a team."
Lisabett blinks at Almar. Again, her intent had been far less martial, but... "Aye," she answers incredulously, shrugs and allows Almar to dictate the pace. Her eyes, however, are constantly moving, searching for a haven of natural life where she might curl up in the evening.
Raziel smiles at the priest.
"If I may ask, where would be a safe place to lay my head here in Roderic's Cove?"
The Oarsman is easy to find. Not a minute after you depart from Sandru, you find the inn's sign hanging over the heads of a half-dozen young Varisian men, adorned in colorful scarves and worn leather. Seemingly indifferent to the rain, they are engaged in a bawdy conversation in their native tongue. Right as you come to the entrance, they erupt in laughter - one man nearly doubles over, and another falls against the door frame. They seem not to mark your approach for all their mirth.
The priest frowns. "It would be as safe to lay it upon a crate on the docks as a pillow in the Oarsman, I'm afraid. But as you are a man of faith, I will find room for you here, in our guest chamber."
"In truth, I seek rooms for my traveling companions, so I am afraid having the entire caravan sleep here would not be to your liking," Raziel laughs.
"I will inform my companions as to your advice, though. Blessings upon you, and may the Sun shine brightly upon you."
Setomi joins Ameiko and Sorin as they head for the tavern that has been suggested to them. She keeps her eyes open for any possible threat to them as they walk the streets. Her conversations with people today makes her wary of this town.
Sorin will lead Ameiko and Setomi to The Gnome's Nose. He whilstles a cheerful tune as they walk through town and seems oblivious to whatever ambiance the town or townsfolk exude.
Perception check:
Almar doesn't seem to notice anything unusual and enters the tavern unconcerned.
"A drink for you and your lady?" The expression of the man behind the counter does not soften, but his tone is welcoming enough. "We've a brandy from Korvosa that's just come in, and you'll not find its equal in all of Avistan."
"Ah yes, you said you were with a caravan. You do not look the sort, and it slipped from my mind. My apologies." The priest smiles. "The offer stands, however, if you are not able to find accommodations that suit you. Wind and Waves wash over you, friend."
He runs his hand through his beard, shaking some of the rainwater from it, then sits again, as if unaware of both your presence and the increasingly hard rainfall.
"Quoaral is still with the wagons." Ameiko says, looking somewhat guilty. Indeed, the Shoanti man sits atop the middle wagon, seemingly unperturbed by the rain. Droplets of water break on his bald head, but he does not appear to care. "Oh, he's fine." she concludes. "Let's find the inn!"
It is no simple task. Each passerby that you ask about "The Gnome's Nose" insists either that they are not sure where it is, or that they doubt it even rents rooms at all
"I think it's a bakery." one man insists.
Most of them encourage you to visit "The Oarsman" instead.
When you at last happen upon your intended destination, it is almost by accident. The entrance is just inside a tight alleyway, and the sign that hangs above it is very faded. It hardly seems welcoming, but by now you are drenched, and nearly any possible reprieve from the rain bears some merit. Fortunately, the door is unlocked.
You walk into a somewhat cramped, but immaculately clean front room. Nobody appears to be behind the counter.
"Desna's stars!" The high pitched voice comes from the top of the narrow stairway on the far side of the room. "If it is out there as it sounds out there, you'll be dripping! Dripping on everything!" A moment later, a small figure comes hurrying down the stairs. He seems to stumble on the last step, but catches himself in a perfect somersault, and a moment later, he stands before you. The gnome's skin is a deep brown, and his wildly sprouting hair, a dark green. His natural colors clash with his purple-and-orange striped jerkin.
"Yes! Just as I said!" The gnome takes no pause, but rather, begins furiously opening cabinets and pulling towels from them. "Dripping! On everything!"
Raziel bows to the priest again, and takes his leave, heading back towards the caravan.
Setomi thanks the gnome for the towel, and tries, unsuccessfully, not to giggle at his dress and attitude.
Lisabett's growing sense of disdain for most urban encounters seems to get the better of her perceptions. She eyes the Varisian men with some amount of curiosity and the heightened sense of personal security an adventurer keeps, but notices nothing out of the ordinary. At the barkeep's introduction, she shakes her head.
"Not his lady," she says, "else I missed some round at table last. And I think I would remember?" she glances at Almar for confirmation and spares her companion a feral grin.
"Mead. And lots of it," she says with far more social grace than she is typically capable of, and looses her purse from her belt. "Enough to drown a Linnorm."
"Mead." The man's eyes drift towards the ceiling for a moment as he thinks. "We've probably got some of that in the back stores. If you'll hold on for a moment." He bows to you, not entirely politely, and disappears through a nearby doorway.
The men who had been laughing riotously outside the front door seem to have grown tired of the rain, and have come in behind you to find their tables.
On your way back to the caravan, you happen to catch sight of Lisabett and Almar moving through a crowded doorway and into a large doorway. A few moments after your companions disappear from sight, the men that had been gathered at the entrance turn and walk in after them.
The sign above the door is wooden relief, carved to look like a man pushing a boat with a long oar. From where you are, you can just make out the words "The Oarsman" above the picture.
"Oh yes!" the gnome exclaims. "Laugh! Laugh at the mess that you have made, but will not clean up! Pathfinders! You're all alike!"
Setomi stifles her giggling and, after drying herself off, starts to pat-dry the floor. As she is cleaning the entryway, she looks up at the gnome and asks, "Why do you think us pathfinders?"
Curious, Raziel moves toward the inn.
'With the warnings I've had, I don't like the looks of this at all,' he thinks, moving up to the door, but hesitating before stepping inside.
Almar and Lisabett stand in front of a counter. You see the barkeep say something to them, and then duck out through a nearby door.
"The Pathfinder Society." The gnome stops what he is doing and looks the three of you over. "You are not with them?"
Sense motive check:
Perception check:
Almar checks the tavern, finding it a bit seedy but acceptable, all things considered:Mead will do, I guess. Doesn't seem too bad, no Lisabett?
Sorin smiles at the Gnome. "I've heard of The Pathfinder Society but, to my knowledge, I've never met anyone who was a member. However, I'm getting ahead of myself."
Sorin bows deeply to the Gnome. "My name is Sorin Nicussor, servant of Shelyn, and this is Setomi and Ameiko," he continues indicating his companions.
"We're part of a caravan venturing north out of Sandpoint and have been told that this fine establishment is the most reputable to be found. There are many more of us than just us three and, apart from getting out of the weather, wanted to make sure that you could accomodate us all." Sorin pauses momentarily, "We haven't come at a bad time, have we?"
Lisabett raises an eyebrow at the 'keep disclosing that they have no mead, finding the idea absurd. Varisia was not so far from the Land of the Linnorm and so full of men who had more traits in common with women that she suspected that they would prefer a sweeter drink.
Lisabett looks about the area, and considers Almar's question for a time. "This is no mead hall," she says and almost seems disappointed. "Might have been nice to watch-" she begins, but arrests herself, flushes and coughs softly.
"Were you able to find a tattooist?" Lisabett inquires in place of her former statement, and rubs her decorated neck with her large, scarred hands. "I've scars enough from the gobbos and the... mouth... thing, but not a drop of ink in weeks." Lisabett stretches her arms, back, and finally her left leg. "Running out of room for script," she observes, and then touches her flat belly and smiles. "Will have to get more creative, soon."
Almar looks at Lisabett, seemingly undecided between puzzlement and embarassment for her boldness:"A tatooist? I didn't check but I guess we could ask around for one... peopel here seem friendly enough, after all..."
The man behind the bar returns a moment later, carrying a small barrel. "Few enough ask for this, but we've got it. Enough to drown a dragon, I can't say for sure. Enough to wash away the worries of you and your friend here, certainly. The barrel will run you fifteen gold."
"Hum! I can't say the last time anybody came in here looking for a room that wasn't a Pathfinder. Hum! Who told you my establishment was respectable?" The gnome seems as surprised as he is abrasive - it seems to take him a moment to remember that he runs a business. "But we've plenty of fine rooms. Dry rooms! Or they are as of now. Perfectly suitable for a romantic knight and his consorts!"
He runs behind the counter, hoists himself onto a stool, and begins pulling keys from a cabinet. "Two beds to a room. How many will you need?"
Raziel continues to lurk just outside, listening to the conversation. Even as small as Sandpoint was, it had places that were trouble to walk into, and this had the feel of such a place, and the old priest's warning didn't make him feel any more at ease. His eyes wandered over the room, trying to judge the mood of the other patrons.
Setomi again bursts into giggles. Blushing she looks at Ameiko and Sorin, then back to the gnome. "I think for the moment 2 rooms; however our friends might be joining us, so possibly 2 more." She looks at her companions for confirmation, and then asks, "Where are the others anyways? Should we go out and look for them, or assume they will find somewhere to get out of the rain?"
Lisabett narrows her eyes at the cask, and glances about her surroundings. A traveler she may be, but she knew mead, and that storing it where it would not see the light of day was an indication that this was likely not the venue for the celebration she intended.
"A... aye," she says finally. "And convenient in that it is portable. Best luck, say I that my arms are strong enough to carry my charge," she continues pointedly.
Lisabett will pay the man what he asks, to facilitate her and Almar's quick departure.
"Oh, you won't stay?" says the man, putting the barrel down on the counter with a thud. You can hear liquid sloshing around within. He looks into your eyes, unabashed, as he counts out your payment.
"We seek room and board for the whole caravan, I think" Ameiko adds. "Fifteen heads, if I'm not mistaken."
"Fifteen?!" The gnome drops several keys on the wooden floor with a clatter as he looks to Sorin, eyes wide. "You must be wealthy, or very reputable, Sir, but this is not that sort of place! Fifteen!"
"With you effort to make us feel welcome?" Lisabett says, crooking an eyebrow. "Thanks much for the mead, friend, and I hope you enjoy your evening."
Lisabett lifts the cask to her shoulder and gestures to the door with a nod, then begins moving there.
Sorin is befuddled by the gnome's behavior. "What? No...not wealthy; part of a caravan...wait, what do you mean: "not that kind of place"?
The man does not reply to Lisabett - he does nothing out of courtesy, nor does he raise any protest over your leaving. The moment you turn from him, he acts as if you were never there.
As you exit, you find Raziel standing just outside the door.
"You said you are a servant of Shelyn, who is, if my knowledge of the gods serves, a goddess of love, and passion. And you, Sir, are a handsome knight, with two lovely women, and twelve more, it sounds like. What am I do think but that you'll use each and every one of my rooms for copulation?" The gnome explains all of this, sounding very pleased with himself. Suddenly his face darkens. "Oh, what do I care? I appreciate the coin, in any case. Do whatever you like, just keep the noise in hand." He begins picking up the dropped keys and laying them upon the counter.
Ameiko is doing all that she can to keep from laughing. She produces a coin pouch, and looks at Sorin, grinning. "What do you say, Sir? Will this inn serve your tastes?"
Taking her cue from Ameiko, Setomi slips her arm around the bewildered knight. Leaning into him she says, "I cannot wait for Lisabett to hear of these arrangements! I am sure she will be most pleased."
Appraise check:
Lisabett frowns when there is literally no reaction from the keep, and it grows to find Brother Holheim in their path. To say that she is conflicted by him is an understatement, but she chose to maintain her silence for the good of the whole, and she would not renege on that agreement.
"Glorious summer rain, hmm?" she says. "You will excuse me if I take my cask and find some tree to toast my horn to?" Lisabett looks to Almar and smirks. "This little mead will not induce my band to loosen their trade tongue, much less entertain."
"Greetings. I had just noticed you enter here..." Raziel says.
"It doesn't look to hospitable to strangers, does it?"
"Seems about fine to me. Maybe a tad costy but fine..."
As you depart from The Oarsman, you see Sandru duck under an awning to avoid the rain. He sees you as well, and smiles. "The wagons are taken care of, and are being moved to dry storage." he shouts. "Tell me you've found somewhere dry for us."
He looks at the three of you, then beyond. "Where is Ameiko? Have you seen the others?"
"I'll charge you in the morning, depending on the noise and the mess. The common room here is yours, as far as I'm concerned." The gnome bows at you before jumping down from his stool and heading back up the stairs. "The short door, at the end of the hall, is my room. If you have any problems, they can wait until morning!" With that, he disappears.
"Thanes would bathe in this rain," Lisabett dismisses. "I would still sleep beneath my Lady's cloak," she continues, then taps the cask of mead on her shoulder and grins. "The finest the establishment had to offer. And where might yours be?" she inquires.
Lisabett shrugs at Sandru's inquiry. "It should be well known that I am as fondly thought of by that number as you Mistress Shalelu. Why, just the other day Ameiko with her instrument upon her knee smiled at me and said, 'Lisabett, you fine woman, thanks kindly for filling my belly with meat!' And Sorin did join her song with his flute and all were merry!"
Lisabett looks to Almar, then Brother Holheim. "Is that not the way of it, friends?"
Raziel looks askance at Lisabett, wondering what she was playing at.
Shrugging, the turns back to Sandru and says, "I've not found a place yet, but have had warnings about the place we were just at. I was told that to lay my head at the Oarsman was 'as safe to lay it upon a crate on the docks'. I would hope that Amieko and Sorin can find another place to rest."
Almar looks at Raziel, puzzled:"What did you hear? Didn't seem that bad, honestly"
Quoaral comes from around the corner.
"Ah." Sandru says. "Everything is secure, to your liking?" He turns to the three of you with a secret smirk as the Shoanti nods.
"I will go to Ameiko now." Quoaral says as he turns from you and walks away. Sandru looks astonished, but a moment later, he raises and eyebrow, and follows.