The night winds through itself - at some point, Ameiko brings out several large platters covered in slabs of juicy, delicious-looking boar meat. Putting them on display, the meat goes pretty quickly, but not without each of the new 'goblinslayers' being given a choice portion.
The festivities are once again moving in the Rusty Dragon, with people showing up more and more as the evening continues, and much of the same as before - lots of backslapping and drink-buying and carousing. Ameiko disappears back into the kitchens to continue preparing more food as the boar disappears.
Late in the evening, the door slams open to reveal a dour old Tian man, who shouts in a foreign language.
Pick pulls back from the sound of the yelling old man, eyes narrowed. He doesn't know what words the old one is speaking, but he keeps his eyes on him and his hand on his pick.
A'letta's brow rises as she eyes the party-pooper. She has no clue as to what he is saying, but whenever a man barges in like that, it can't be anything that's good.
Noticing the change in stance and attitude of those around her, Kyra also drops immediately into a fighting stance. "What did he say?" she hisses.
Khalbar shrugs at Kyra's question, but he stands and approaches the older man.
"Come Grandfather, calm down. What is matter?"
Xogar stands and makes his way over to the angry man.
"There is no need to yell. What is the problem?"
Pick lifts his shoulders towards his ears at Lady Hammer's hiss. He has learned that humans do use SOME signs-of-silence in their speech after all: this one means 'damned if I know'.
The older man takes note of Khalbar and Xogar approaching him, and switches over to Common as they get close. "Oh, what is this, Ameiko's hired toughs, come to- wait a second..." Halfway through his accusation, he recognizes you, and his gaze sweeps around the Dragon, finding and appraising the rest of the "goblinslayers". "Of course. Ameiko always liked to keep dangerous vagabonds like you around. What could you possibly have been thinking during that festival? Your antics with the goblins could have seriously endangered somebody! What you should have done is to just step back, and let trained professionals like the town guard handle things." He waves an accusatory finger and spittle flies from his mouth as he speaks.
"I am a trained professional, as I am sure the rest of these are." Xogar says coldly as he gestures to the others that are there.
"Dangerous? You are in better company than you think. Don't mistake your loss for failure on our part. Could it have been YOUR failure to protect your own family that caused this? Go whine to the Sheriff if you have a complaint."
Xogar is still deeply pained from the experience he had today. He obviously is not in the mood to trifle with the man to anyone that notices.
Kyra glares at the man, and then breaks into a twisted smile. "Yes." she agrees, approaching him. "You're absolutely right." She turns to face her comrades. "Perhaps we should have been just a bit more negligent." She turns back to the man, "Then maybe the goblins could have killed this worthless peasant." She spits on him and walks back towards her seat, intending to ignore him.
The old man blubbers and stutters at Kyra's response to him. Clearly he's never been spit on before. "Wo-worthless peasant! You will show more respect! I am one of the Founders! How dare you, you vagrant!"
Just at this moment, Ameiko rushes into the common room, a soup ladle dripping with stock still in her hand and a worried look on her face. "What's going on? What are you doing here, father?"
The pair switch into the strange foreign language, and begin to yell at one another.
"What are you talking about? This is my home."
"Listen, you're going to come with me or....or I have no daughter."
After just a few exclaimed phrases in Minkaian, Ameiko stands in shocked silence.
Pick watches. The words are so much gibberish to him. But the woman is the first one to give him orders, in the battle, and the woman has given him food. This is as close as he might come to 'liking' someone, at least for now.
Brow furrowed beneath the hood, he watches: Hammer spits on the loud old one. Hnh. He keeps his hand on his pick in case a fight is about to erupt. Then the Food Woman and the Old Male yell at each other. Nngh. Always yelling.
If Pick were a different individual, he might go ask Ameiko what is wrong. As it is, he simply stands ready, tense, unsure whether battle is imminent.
Xogar returns to his seat and continues to drink his ale in silence.
A'letta doesn't understand a word he's saying, but she realizes that something is serious amiss. After Xogar and Khalbar fail to defuse the situation and Kyra only made things worse, she figures it is her last chance to turn this thing around. She eyes the man to see if he has any items, tattoos or simply anything on him that might give her a clue about 'who' he is or what he cares about .. if he is religious, and she knew what spirit he follows, that would certainly give her an edge.
Oh, fathers, give this daughter the wisdom to convince this man that he isn't helping his daughter.. and she gets up and starts talking.
"Ameiko's father .. whatever seems to upset you is clouding your judgement. Like any father, you must love your daughter. A father protects his girl by taking her into his arms and if he cannot fight the danger, carries her away from it. But she is a woman now. She has to fight it or walk away from it herself. She can do that together with you, or alone .. and I think deep down inside, all of us here prefer to do this together, than alone."
The older man snorts in derision. "Oh, and now you dirty troublemakers deign to give me parenting advice, do you? Ameiko is coming with me right now, and you have absolutely no say in what I do with my daughter."
With that, he abruptly grabs ahold of Ameiko's mid-length hair and begins to roughly drag her from the tavern, with Ameiko yelling in pain, yelling protests, and waving the ladle threateningly at him.
The majority of the tavern has fallen completely silent, as the dozens of patrons sit by and raptly watch the encounter between the noble Lonjiku and his daughter, their beloved tavernkeeper.
"Ameiko, you are not his property. You're a grown woman, you do not have to follow in his footsteps..", A'letta says as her voice grows ever softer. She had lost hope that this event would end well. Ameiko did not want to fight her father and her father did not have the wisdom to see that no fighting was required to achieve victory here.
Instantly Xogar is on his feet and immediately moves over to the old codger.
"As a matter of fact I do have say. Unhand her." he says in a commanding tone.
Xogar blocks the door to prevent his departure.
Rhanloi, who has been sitting quietly during all of this, just shakes his head sadly, stands, and approaches Xogar.
"Xogar, this is not the way. We must not interfere in family business. Please sit down and let me speak with the honored elder."
If Xogar relents and moves away, Rhanloi casts Charm Person on Lonjiku, then says, "Sir, my lady friend speaks truth. Alone we are as reeds on the water - tossed by wind and waves of our trials. But together, we are firm like a canoe, able to navigate even the most treacherous rivers. Talk with Ameiko so she may understand your dilemma and assist you. Or perhaps we, motley crew though we may be, can provide assistance in your time of distress."
Xogar just stares at Rhanloi for a few seconds. Then he nods reluctantly and takes several steps back.
When he sees Ran-loy gesturing and muttering with the sounds and words of magic, Pick goes from tense to super-tense. Spells! Spells mean fight!
His head snaps from left to right to the others, wondering why they are not drawing their weapons.
Beneath the cover of the table he eases his dagger into his hand.
Lonkiju mostly ignores the words of the adventurers around him, but he takes note when Xogar blocks the door, and he takes further note when Rhanloi approaches with honeyed words and magic, and he becomes even more rapt with attention when Rhanloi's words become distorted by the magic, although he doesn't release his grip on his daughter's hair. A small smile grows on his face as he looks at Rhanloi, and his tone changes to a bit more whiney than authoritative. "Bu-but my friend...We must go, now. I can't include such a transient as my daughter's become in my will."
Xogar steps forward again.
"You will release her. Now!" he says with an edge to his voice.
Wide-eyed, the old man leads go of Ameiko's hair. She staggers back a few steps, rubbing her head and grimacing.
"M-maybe I just ought to go. You, he says, addressing Ameiko. She looks up to make eye contact. aren't worth my time anyway. You're as dead to me as your mother." With that, unceremoniously, he walks out of the tavern. A look at Ameiko shows her to be fighting off tears and halfway on her knees.
Pick has no idea what's going on. Elder and young one; young ones should not argue with elders, so the young female should do what the elder orders...
...but the elder is their enemy. Hammer showed him the disdain of her mouth, and Ran-loy cast magic upon him, and words are edged like weapons, except he is still the only one with a weapon drawn, and he has no idea if they're supposed to kill the old one or not.
Argh. Topsiders. Pick's never going to understand you people.
He scrunches up his face beneath the hood, struggling to process what is going on. 'Empathy' is really, really not a skill the People practice, so this takes some doing.
Fact One: the Young Female, who gives food (and orders), is shaking, with water coming from her eyes. Pain-of-the-spirit. It reflects badly on her that she cannot hide it. Only children cannot hide pain-of-the-spirit. She cannot give orders to anyone else if she has this much weakness.
Why does she have pain-of-spirit? The elder has said she is not worthy. Pick knows this pain-of-spirit. It is still weakness to show it, but he understands the shame. He fled from such judgment himself, after all.
Pick scratches at his bit of glued-on wolf fur 'beard', because it itches.
Then he stuffs the rest of the food on his plate into his mouth, puts his dagger back in its sheath, and slithers off the bench to go over to Young Female.
"Old clan... not home. Find new clan."
He also holds up his plate. "And more food?"
"Ameiko, are you alright? Is there anything we can do for you? I am sorry about this unfortunate event - your father seems completely beyond reason...and I fear we will cause greater harm with continued interference. But if you wish it, I will stand for you." Rhanloi touches her arm gently, offering what comfort he can.
Ameiko, rubbing her scalp, finds enough mirth to giggle a little bit at Pick. He's cute, trying to make her feel better in his very awkward and first-timey way. "Yes, yes I'm fine. I've been having...troubles with my father for many years now. I've been expecting that since I opened up this tavern. You're right, she says to Pick. I need to find a new clan. And of course more food." she says, standing up and taking Pick's plate. "But not on this. I've got some delicious stew coming up!" And she vanishes back into the kitchen.
Clan. The word awakens many emotions within A'letta. She misses her brothers and sisters, her family. How people could live without such bonds confused her. She'd feel so alone. Somewhat lost in her thoughts, she says,"Perhaps the recent events are the building blocks for a new clan.."
She shakes her head, wondering where that thought came from.
Pick scratches some more at the itchy 'beard'. He does not know why she makes the sound they call 'laughing'. Is she laughing at him? Hnhn.
Oh well. More food is coming. Good enough. He returns to his seat in the corner.
Clans. New clans. He looks warily around at the others. Are they a new clan? He has fought along Hammer and Spear; that is not enough to make one fellow-clan.
But it is.... ore. Ore that can be refined into something more. Maybe....
Tcha, what nonsense. He is one of the People, one of the ones who Hears, and they are-- not. He may fight with them, but he could never be one of them: they do not hear, so they do not understand.
His head hurts with thoughts that are not the thoughts one of the People should have. Pick grimaces and rubs at his scalp beneath the hood.
Food. Food soon.
Rhanloi stares thoughtfully at Pick. "Still waters run deep." he mumbles to himself. Rhanloi has never truly belonged to any one group. He never quite...fit in...
Not with his mother and the humans. Certainly not with his father and the elves. The road was his home. Strangers on the road his family. Never get too close. Never risk the pain again.
And yet...and yet he had never been with such an odd assortment of strangers - each alone in their own way; each searching for something. Perhaps this is what they all truly desired.
To belong. To be part of a family. A clan.
Intriguing.
Kyra blinks, wondering how A'letta and the Dwarf could possibly be getting attached to this idea of a clan. She looks around at the others, observing similar reactions on some of them. She wanted to correct them, but she wasn't sure they would understand as she did. The only clan was family.
The old man had only brought shame to his by publicly flaunting their problems. 'You'd never see an Arkona do something like that,' Kyra thought with satisfaction. But the name and connection was still something Ameiko would have to live with forever. There was no 'getting a new clan'. The entire notion was preposterous.
Khalbar watches the old man leave and shakes his head. "EVeryone has trouble in their families, it seems. This family may be more troubled than most, but my family is missing. I wonder where they are tonight, while I stand here in this place, having a fine meal and good wine?"
He frowns, and uses the upset as an excuse to retire upstairs for the evening. He prays devoutly to Desna that night to let fortune lead his path back to that of his wife and infant child.
He falls asleep still thinking of the glorious reunion they will have once he finds and rescues them.
As the evening winds down, each of the 'goblinslayers' drifts their separate ways. Pick scurries off to 'his' room, shuts the door after him, and promptly climbs out the window.
Doesn't trust room. No. Nor soft human bed. Probably laced with broken glass.
He hunkers down on the inn's rooftop, cloak wrapped around him, nestled up against the chimney, where the radiating heat keeps him warm through the night... and where he can hum along with the haunting, twisted melody of the Sleeper that whispers in his ears, without disturbing anyone.
And in the morning, if he is feeling very brave... he thinks he will try to purchase sling-stones in the market. Since he is a 'goblinslayer' now. And a bore-killer.
As before, the night's carousing continues well into the night, and there is much food and drink to be had. At some point, both Aldern and Ameiko slip out without a word and aren't seen for the remainder of the night, although the consensus isn't that they were together, because Aldern left a few things for Ameiko to give to the hunters, and since she wasn't there, one of her employees hands it over instead.
The package consists of a note and a few bags of gold for A'letta, Pick, and Kyra. Each bag (one is intended for each person) contains fifty gold pieces, and the note reads:
My friends,
hunting with you was an absolute delight, but I have some business to attend to. Here is the payment for your services, and if you ever find yourself in the Sandpoint Hinterlands or Magninar, feel free to drop in on my manor or my townhouse for a fine meal and a place to stay.
Sincerely,
Aldern Foxglove
Each of the 'goblinslayers' (save Pick, who was already awake and about by the time this is happening) is awoken by the hurried knock of a halfling servant woman and a request to join her in the common room of the tavern. When everyone is gathered together, the woman dramatically motions for everybody to lean in closer, and whispers, "Ameiko's gone missing! Her bed is unslept in and she hasn't been seen since last night!"
Level 1: Color Spray, Sleep
"Perhaps she has gone to make amends with her father. They had quite the public disagreement last night...I would not worry yet." Rhanloi assures the woman. Once she leaves, he softly says to his new colleagues, "But we should discreetly inquire about town as to her whereabouts, starting with her father's house."
Pick stares blankly at the scrap of paper attacked to the bag of gold.
He speaks Taldane... sort of... because he's heard it spoken ever since he reached the surface, and for that matter, the People had had a few short-lived slaves, here and there, who spoke the surface tongue.
He doesn't write it, and he doesn't read it.
Little meaningless squiggles. Oh well. He gets what's in the bag well enough. The coins the topsiders live and die and kill for.
Coins that they trade for weapons. Yes. Good.
Why are they giving him coins? Are the metal bits poisoned? Silly topsiders if so. Poison is nothing to him.
Perhaps in the morning he will ask one of the others. The coins go into one of his myriad pouches before he scampers to the roof top.
Pick is lurking. He has established several corners of the inn's common room that he finds acceptable due to their shadows and furniture. The little nook formed by the side of the chimney, for instance-- can't be seen from the door if you're there-- and the single table jammed into an alcove on the far side of the bar. He watches as the others stumble down yawning (or alert, as the case may be) and listens to the halfling.
When it becomes clear that that is all the halfling has to say, Pick stares blankly from behind his goggles, then jerks his shoulders in a shrug.
And then, since the surface-dwellers are not adept at knowing the language of gestures, he deigns to elaborate with words.
"Chose old clan. Went to elder."
It seems perfectly obvious to him, anyway. The elder gave her an ultimatum, and she bowed to the elder's rule. Sensible, really.
All the same, had there been any odd noises last night during his sleep? He tries to remember.
"No, no, you do not understand." elaborates the halfling, as she pulls out another sheaf of paper. "When I went to clean Miss Ameiko's room this morning, I found her bed undisturbed and this note upon it. It was written in Minkaian, but I've translated it on the opposite side. Here. Read."
I hope this letter finds you well, and with some free time on your hands, because we've got something of a problem. It's to do with father. Seems that he might have had something to do with Sandpoint's recent troubles with the goblins, and I didn't want to bring the matter to the authorities because we both know he'd just weasel his way out of it. You've got some pull here in town, though. If you can meet me at the Glassworks at midnight tonight, maybe we can figure out how to make sure he faces the punishment he deserves. Knock twice and then three times more and then once more at the delivery entrance and I'll let you in.
In any case, I don't have to impress upon you the delicate nature of this request. If news got out, you know these local rubes would assume that you and I were in on the whole thing too, don't you? They've got no honor at all around these parts. I still don't understand how you can stand to stay here.
Anyway, don't tell anyone about this. There are other complications as well, ones I'd rather talk to you in person about tonight. Don't be late.
Tsuto.
Khalbar is afraid of more people gone missing. "Well what does it say?" he snaps, unable to make heads or tails of the writing as fast as the others.
Pick squints at the note when it gets passed around. Both of forms of writing are equally incomprehensible to him. So he just grunts at Khalbar's question, in a fashion that he hopes does not betray his inability to read the damned thing.
Never show weakness. Even if your fake beard itches.
"Oh no .. does the foolishness of this old man know no limits? We should have a bite, pack up and get ready for a long day. Because I think we'll need to run this trail down to its very end .."
A'letta feels a knot being tied in her stomach. She had a bad feeling about all of this. A man this stubborn, who has shown himself not to care about the feelings of his daughters, is capable of the gravest of mistakes.
Rhanloi asks the Halfling woman, "Do you know Amieko's sister? What does she look like?"
"Sister? This is Ameiko's brother, Tsuto. A bit of a scandal back when he was born, given that he's a half-elf...and neither of his parents are elves. Don't know much about him besides that, except that Mister Kaijitsu didn't let him live at home for a long time."
Kyra smiles remarkably sweetly at Khalbar, thinking 'Poor oaf', and reads the note aloud for him. Once she's finished, she looks towards him quizzically. "I thought you said it was a woman with white hair behind the goblin attack?"
Uncertainty fills Kyra. "Why would Ameiko have left the note, if it was important that no one know where she went? Something about this doesn't feel right."
After hearing the letters contents, Khalbar goes to his room to get his gear ready. "We leave now to find her, yes?" he says before he departs to prepare.
"You are right. If she was in a hurry, she wouldn't leave a note. If it was so important, she'd have told one of us. Maybe we should take a closer look at her room before we go.."
Investigating Ameiko's room reveals little - it seems that she was delivered the note, read it, and then immediately left.
"We should go look for her, but be prepared for this to amount to the family disagreement it appears to be on the surface, and not another deep conspiracy plot..." he says with a light smile. Rhanloi has his possessions ready to go, and he makes sure to stock up on some breakfast while he has a chance!
"This bears investigating. If she is in trouble we should help her in any capacity."
Xogar says with some concern.