The scowling merchant doesn't seem to notice you as he comes down the stairs and engages in a short conversation with his daughter who is once again acting as innocent and sweet as a well-to-do young woman should, about their business and his displeasure with her sister's choice of suitor, a Scarnetti family scion by the sounds of it. He seems about to grab a handful of supplies that you are hiding near, but the lass distracts him briefly and he seems to forget about it. Soon enough he heads back up the stairs and calls for Shayliss to follow.
"Be right up, father, I'll just finish tidying up down here first. [She heads over to your hiding space and beckons you out, whispering as she motions to an trapdoor and ladder in the corner.] That was close. Well its too dangerous for you here now. That will take you out to the alley beside the shop. Shall I see you again? [She crosses her arms and asks the question completely casually, as if there were no previous assumptions or misunderstandings between you.]"
Ansruath sighs than says "I think until you get some better control of yourself I do not think that would be a good idea." He than moves to the ladder to get out of the basement.
Shayliss sighs heavily and roll her eyes a bit immaturely. She only seems off put for a moment or two before regaining her composure, straightening out her dress before crossing her arms with a smirk.
"You'll come around. Just let me know when you do. [She offers confidently as you leave, before shrugging and heading up the stairs herself after another impatient call from her father.]"
After leaving the shop Ansruath goes back to the inn to rest. As he walks the streets he thinks to himself "What happened to that poor girl that she is like that."
All goes smoothly for a while as you wander about town and join rounds with volunteer guards in the Sheriff's absence. A bit after dusk, perhaps an hour before the thick boar roast will be finished cooking over an open flame, a harried looking woman approaches you, clinging a babe to her chest with a young boy in tow, being tugged along by the collar of his nightshirt. You recognize the boy as the child who suffered smoke inhalation who you had helped before, and his mother who begged your help outside of the Rusty Dragon on the day of the Swallowtail Festival. She seems on the vegre of tears and is frantic as she approaches.
"Thank Desna that I've found ye. [She pants and wipes her eyes, and her son snivels. She takes a moment to gulp and steady herself.] Every night since the goblins attacked, me boy here has woken up screaming about goblins attacking in the night, which caused our dog ta' bark and wake not only us but the neighbors as well. We thought th' damn bastards had just tramatiz'd the poor boy, we did. But tonight, when we just put 'im ta' bed- [her face contorts as she bites her lip and suppresses a wail-] when my husband went into his room to calm 'im down...show the man ye'r shoulder boy!"
The boy unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt and slides the fabric down over his left shoulder where a row of raw, slightly bloody, needle-point teeth marks mar his flesh. He whimpers as his fingers brush against the, all things considered, mild wound.
"Our dog was in a fit, barking at the closet door, and when my husband opened it up, ready to swat the bugger that must've been in there with the fire poker, he just started screaming 'n' flailing, and we ran ta' find ye! You have ta' help us, sir. Ye have to! [She pleads.]"
[spoiler=Ringtail]Dherisan places his hands on the woman's shoulder as he looks to the boy. "Calm down, good lady, I will help your husband, but first..." He kneels down and touches the child's wounds lightly, working his healing magic. Shallow it may be, it does look painful. He smiles gently at the boy as the bite marks begin to vanish. "Quite the battle scar, if I say so myself, worthy of a Shoanti warrior. Tell me child, what happened in your room? I must know every detail if I am to help your father."[spoiler]
"The last few nights...a gawblan like them at the festival opens up my closet door and looks around like he's scared of something. I think- I think he got in through the open window on fair-day. When I scream for father to come help me, Pup runs in and the gawblan slams the door shut. When father comes in and looks in the closet he says the gawblans not there. Tonight when it opened the door it jumped on me and started biting me right away and ran back in the closet when Pup came in and started barking at it. Father saw my arm and grabbed a powker from the fireplace and told me and mother to get back. When he leaned into the closet to look after a second or two I heard a scraping noise and father started screaming. That's when we ran."
Dherisan stares at the child blankly for a moment as he collects his thoughts, holding his smile like plaster mask. Hearing the boy's story, he expects the worst, but he does his best to stifle any outwards indications of such concerns. He gives the boy a pat on the shoulder as he stands and turns to address the woman.
"It sounds like haste is in order. I'll make my way to your home, though I'd ask you to go to the Rusty Dragon to fetch my companions. Stay strong, my lady. I'll see your husband returned to you."
His expressions grows grim as he turns away, brisk strides carrying him towards the residence.
Once the sun drops below the horizon and the scent of roasting pork hangs in the air, Ameiko's Rusty Dragon is bustling with activity. Hungry patrons of all sorts have swelled the establishment and pleasant conversation is bandied about. However, the joyous evening is spoiled as a local woman clutching a baby and holding the hand of a young boy burst through the door. The party recognizes her as the woman they aided outside the Rusty Dragon the day of the Swallowtail Festival, Miss Alma Avertin, and the her son, the one who suffered of smoke inhalation. Seeking out the members of your group they duo share a short story of the tragedy that has just befallen their family and how your ally, Dehrisan is already on his way to their home to help solve the problem.
Ansruath's face goes blank as he hears the tale from the duo. He recalls the pain of losing a love one. He says in a calm voice "Thank you for coming to tell us."
Against his better judgement, Dherisan takes a deep breath and enters the building. He would normally be inclined to wait for aid, but he fears that time is against him in this matter, and each second may count. He cups his hands and begins to whisper into his palms as a cool breeze whirls around him. This goes on for several moments before he raises his arms, throwing his words into the wind that they may be carried to his companions.
Another wave of his hand summons a set of dancing lights to illuminate his path. He sets them to follow about 20 feet ahead of him, so whatever lies in wait will spot the lights before they notice the witch. Steeling himself, he begins to move towards the sound of the dog.
Gorgoron hears the story, his face growing darker with every word. When he hears a goblin is in the house and Dehrisan has gone there to confront it, he leaps to his feet, grabs his sword belt from where it is looped over the back of his dining chair, and runs out of the inn, heading for the family's home.
Dherisan frowns as he observes the closet. He makes his way across the room, trying to reach a vantage point that will allow him to see into the closet, and sends his dancing lights near the body to get a better look.
As you arrive outside the modest home you see a ghostly, flickering glow from the space between shutters and the cracks of doors; and recognize the spell that your witch friend has used a couple of times before. The only sound coming from within is that of a yapping house dog.
Dherisan's face contorts into a snarl of rage as he beholds the grizzly spectacle. His hand moves to a small bag of sand at his belt as he begins preparing a spell of slumber. "It's just us here, Ember," he whispers darkly. "I may need your help here."
The fox moves to the center of the room and joins the dog in its frenetic yapping. His ears press back and his tail tucks between his legs as he takes a ready posture.
The goblin reacts first. He stands and picks up jagged bits of broken glass from the floor, stepping out of the closet and onto the body of boy's father. You start weaving your spell with arcane phrases taught from beyond as Ember runs up to join the other animal in blocking the path out of the closet. Snarling, and looking frightened of whatever 'bad-magic' that you're working the goblin lashes out at Ember wickedly to get him out of the way with both weapons. Then becomes drowsey as your spell takes effect, and slumps to the floor, snoring surprisingly loudly for such a small creature.
While working your way into the home you hear a brief yelp from a room off to your side and the sound of your friend chanting in an arcane tongue, before all goes silent once more (with the exception of that dog's incessant yipping!).
Dherisan quickly looks around the room for something with which to bind the goblin, though he remains wary for more goblins. Sparing another glance towards the man's body, he cringes, and extends his search to something to cover him with.
Restraining the goblin is Dherisan's first order of business. He wastes no time in crafting makeshift bonds from the sheets, and ties its feet and hands (behind its back) as quickly as he dares, though he makes sure that the knots will hold it at least for a few minutes, until his companions arrive and better solution can be found.
As Ansruath hears the yipping he walks to the room where he heard the yipping. When he walks into the room he sees Dehrisan and the tied up goblin he than sighs.
Dherisan looks up at Ansruath and simply shakes his head. "I wasn't fast enough. The woman's husband, he..." He looks away as he waves towards the body in the closet. "I was worried when she described the screams, but I wasn't read for... this." He frowns as he regards the slumbering goblin. "There will be no mercy for the cretins this time."
"It is okay I know what they do. I can put a end to its life now if you want. If not what do you want to do with it?" Ansruath moves closer to Dehrisan as he speaks.
Do what you want with it. I thought we might question it, but I doubt it knows anything more than the one we spoke to on the day of the raid." He avoids looking at the body in the closet, instead focusing his gaze on the window as he takes rapid, shallow breaths. Suddenly, his face goes white as he turns wide-eyed to Ansruath. "Do you think this is one of the ones we let go?"
Ansruath puts a hard stare to the goblin. "I do not know help me look to see if we could find anything that might tell us if it was." He than moves next to it to look at its body to see if he could find markings that might tell him if this was one of the goblins that were let go.
Looking over the slumbering goblin who kicks and thrashes, though smiles as though he is having a wonderfully violent dream you notice that his disgusting armor bares mossy patches and his skin is a vibrant green. Though you think you saw a few raiders from his tribe during he festival he doesn't much resemble any that battled or dealt with. His movements remind you that he won't be asleep for much longer, and though not particularly powerful, goblins are known for being able to get into and out of tight spaces.
Ansruath turns to Dehrisan after he looks over the goblin "I do not believe this is one of the goblins that we let go. It seems that the goblin is about to awake we should deal with it before it does."
"Well thank Desna for small mercies, I suppose..." Dherisan draws his dagger and moves over to the slumbering goblin. Kneeling down, he places the tip of the blade against the nape of the creatures neck before driving down with both hands.
The goblin's eyes pop wide open as your dagger touches his neck and he struggles as you draw it across his flesh, turning the killing blow into merely a savage wound. Dark blood sprays forth, but the goblin is left alive, if horribly damaged. He opens his mouth in an attempt to scream, but the blade that dug deep into his throat leaves him only with the ability to his and gurgle. Futilely, he stuggles against his bonds, panicking.
Cursing under his breath, Dherisan twists the knife in an attempt to finish the creature off quickly.
Ansruath stands before the goblin and swings his sword downwards.
With a flick of the wrist and a twisting of the blade Dehrisan causes the disgusting cretin to spasm one final time before laying silent and motionless on the bedroom floor in a puddle of blood, while Ansruath impales the beast with his massive blade, quickly putting an end to its miserable existance.
Gorgoron enters the bed chamber as few steps behind Ansruath; he left the inn first, but his shorter legs made it hard to keep up with the elf, once they started running. He is puffing and obviously a bit short of breath. Upon surveying the scene, he'll start checking around under the bed, in any wardrobes, etc, to make sure that this room at least is clear of any more hiding creatures.
After making his quick search, presuming he finds no others, he closes to the body with a sigh. He drops to his knees beside it, and recites the last rites; a benediction that Saraenrae would watch over his journey and that his spirit will make it to Pharasma's boneyard without difficulty. He prays that the man will be judged fairly, and receive a just reward for a good life. He concludes with a request that the Dawnflower look after this family.
He looks over at the goblin, and seeing it bound, asks, "Was it escaping? We had sought to capture one for questioning; it would have been beneficial to have taken this one."
Ansruath turns to Gorgoron "When I came in Dehrisan had it tied up. He thought it might of been one of the goblins that we let go. As we checked it to see if it was it started to awake. Dehrisan than tried to end its life but did not strike with enough force to do so I helped him finish it off.I doubt this one knew anymore than the others we have spoken to though."
"I do not agree with this decision; while I do not like that he was executed in this fashion, I was not here when it happened and cannot know whether it was necessary or not. Ultimately, he fate would have been the same, though a death by hanging after a trial would likely have been more humane than being carved up while trussed on the floor."
"What I disagree with more was that there was nothing to be learned. We talked to a few goblins, or Dehrisan did, while he had their leader charmed, though that was hardly a detailed interview. Interrogating one might have revealed a great deal more information. Information is what we truly lack right now. If we had any clue to this "Longshanks" identity, even just if it was a he or a she, an Orc or Hobgoblin, or human or elf, we would have had a much better idea of where to seek our adversary than we do now. This goblin may not have seen this "Longshanks," but by the same chance, maybe he did. Imagine how a physical description would aid us right now... We have no idea at present whether the threat comes from within or without, and that frightens me. Narrowing down the possibilities would aid us greatly."
"I am sorry friends, I do not mean to condemn your actions; you have most certainly ended the threat posed by this vile creature, and avenged the death of a good man. For that, all will be greatful. I am simply frustrated by our lack of understanding surrounding this situation."
Gorgoron stands up from where the body of the man sits, pulls it into the middle of the room, away from the closet it is jammed in, and rolls it supine. He then covers it over with the bed linens.
"Leave the creature's body in tact," He points at the goblin, "I will ask Father Zantus if he possesses sufficient magic to enable us to speak with its spirit. Perhaps there is still something to be learned here."
Ansruath shrugs "Dying from hanging is no more humane than a death by our blades. Leaders know more information than their follows. This looked to just be a goblin that got stuck in town after the rest left. I had no plans to do anything to its body."
"I don't think this creature ever would have seen trial after what it's wrought here. It was the knife here, or mob justice tomorrow. Which do you think would have more merciful?"
"I'm sorry friend Gorgoron. I've not yet learned such prayers to communicate with those who have passed on, and it looks like we must again prepare a funeral. [He pauses to trace the wings of Desna over his heart, before raising his brows.] There is another possibility, though. Naffer Vosk resides in the shack behind the temple. He as a friend of Father Tobyn's and had done many odd jobs; everything from grounds keeping to donation counting to ringing the bells everyday. I believe he also cataloged the churches scrolls. He may have one in stock, if you wish to see him."
"I-is me husband alright?"
Dherisan pauses for a moment as he regards the patrons, and his eyes grow watery as looks into the face of the now-widow. He shakes his head sadly. "I was too late this time. I'm sorry."
Ansruath looks at Dehrisan than sadly at Alma. He thinks to himself "If only I was faster I could of gotten there sooner."
Ansruath eyes turn hard as he hears Alma's words. "I can only speak for myself but I will do my best to make sure this does not happen to anyone again."
He reaches out and gives the woman a condoling squeeze on the shoulder, showing her that she is still connected to those around her. "I won't bludgeon you with platitudes - your grief is natural, and you shouldn't hold it back." He pats her on the back as he moves into the bar. "I'll leave you for now, though I would like to check on you in the morning. Do you have someplace you can go?"?
Ameiko comes over and pats the woman comfortingly on the back. After handing her boy a plate and his mother a glass of exotic wine she walks aside with you.
"That poor dear can't catch a break. She lost her eldest son 5 years ago when Stoot went on his rampage. At least her daughters are grown an healthy. [She confides in you.]"
"Thank you for giving them a place to stay - I'm developing a growing fondness for this town." He looks over his shoulder, sparing another glance for the bereft family family. A resolute looks overtakes him. "I've spent so much time wandering; tending illnesses, mediating disputes, dealing with the beasts of Varisia - because it felt right. But I never really invested myself in the people. I want to help this family."
Naffer Vosk resides in the shack behind the temple. He as a friend of Father Tobyn's and had done many odd jobs; everything from grounds keeping to donation counting to ringing the bells everyday. I believe he also cataloged the churches scrolls. He may have one in stock, if you wish to see him."
"Such a thing might be useful for the future, but for this... I don't know. It is a longshot that the creature would know anything. I may be just grasping at straws. If such a scroll exists, it is probably too valuable to waste on such a slim chance."
"What do you think Father, should I be upset about how this creature died? With all that is going on, and all the evil that creature partook in, it seems petty. It et' a man. And yet, I feel as though conducting a summary execution is highly presumptuous on our parts; there are processes for such things... courts. I feel pity for the thing. It was trapped, isolated and alone. It killed a man and was captured, and then died, trussed and bound like a hog and it's throat slit. Though it did not die clean... If you saw that floor... The cut was not deep enough, so the creature bled and thrashed. You could see the way it had thrashed in the blood it tracked on the floor as it moved, bound the whole time. The look of terror on his face in death... No, a hog dies much cleaner."
Gorgoron looks genuinely disturbed, as though this incident has challenged his perception of things. His skin looks pale, and his face drawn.
"Tell me I'm wrong Father, tell me this is how things need to be."
After responding to the comments about the scrolls the young priest quietly listens as you recount your tale, nodding and stroking his chin in deep thought, walking slowly, leading you as you speak. Before long you arrive at the shrine of Sarenrae.
"The Dawnflower, your goddess, is the diety of redemption. It is going to both be your blessing and your curse to mourn all needless death, even that which brings others many joys. These goblins are vile creatures, it is true, and you may feel alone among the populace finding sorrow in their deaths. But do not be, I too feel unsettling pain when even these monsters suffer and die. Do they not bleed? Can they not feel pain? They did not ask to be born into the bodies and societies that they were, that was something Pharasma had decided, and they are now unfortunately a menace and seen more as a hazard than a race of people- and perhaps they are. Many look upon them as not more sentient than the cattle that make boots and the hogs that make our dinner.
"But that is not for us mortals to decide. We must only live the best lives we can. It probably brings no solace to know that any trial would be a sham and the goblin would've still died, frightened and alone. It is easy for the people of Sandpoint, nay, all of Glorian over, to weigh their own needs of feeling safe and getting justice over the lives of something they view as less than human. If the goblin was released would it have embraced the forgiveness and mercy and changed its ways? Likely not. It probably would've gone on to do as goblins do. But there is that chance that it would, and however slim that ray of light is, we, as priests of goodly faiths, must nuture it.
"Do not judge your friends for slaying the helpless creature, even in a savage manner. They were doing what they thought was best and it would be morally presumptous of us to infer otherwise. By the sounds of it there was nothing you could do to change the situation and in accepting what you cannot change lies true wisdom. If you would like we can hold a private ceremony tomorrow at first light and give the goblin a proper burial. Obviously the populace would object if the news was wide-spread, and surely such a matter must be kept from poor Miss Avertin. But every creature deserves dignity, if nothing else. Let us pray for guidence."