Seeing as the Goblin has managed to weather the Tian man's blows, Matoska rushes forward intending to put the Goblin down with a single strike.
Stopping in front of the Goblin he delivers a sharp kick, aimed at the dazed creature's head.
With only one goblin standing, the heroes move in to surround the creature. Rajuna casually drops down to finish off the goblin dog, while Gao delivers a powerful open-hand punch to the goblin, who reels on his feet but doesn't drop just yet. Matoska follows up with his own unarmed strike, a mighty kick that catches the goblin in the chin; it teeters on its feet, and finally collapses, sprawled out on the ground with its weapon clattering to the side. The group breathes easy for a few moments in relative silence--the sounds of danger elsewhere are all but gone, and it's clear even from this position that the worst of the gobiln raid is over.
Then there's a cheer and clapping from nearby. Anyone who turns sees a thin-faced man in somewhat foppish clothing, who's come out of his hiding spot behind the barrels. A wide, nervous grin is on his face, and he glances about as though expecting more goblins to appear from thin air even as he approaches. As he nears the group, though, he positively beams, and almost looks to be bouncing on his feet.
"Heroes! Heroes of Sandpoint and saviors of my life! What marvels you are." He grins, his eyes sweeping across the group and coming to rest on Shara. "Especially a mage of such skill and grace! A stunning voice and a mastery of phantasm. Who might have guessed that such beauty could also possess the mystical skill to so masterfully control a fight? How much greater are the strong warriors when they have such a muse at their side." He sweeps into a bow, his feathered hat flourishing off in one hand. "Aldern Foxglove, your humble servant. Words cannot describe my deep debt to you."
When he stands, the man suddenly looks nervous again for a moment, and licks his lips as he looks across the group. "Ah. I'm in town for a few more days, actually, staying at the Rusty Dragon? I would be honored if you would meet me there. The chance to talk with heroes such as yourselves would be incredible, and I could more fully reward you for, ah, saving my life?" He smiles and nods.
An unconscious curl of the lip afflicts Efanydd as the foppish man breaks cover and approaches the group.
If he wields a blade as clumsily as his tongue perhaps it was best that he were hiding behind those barrels.
Still, my funds are running low and perhaps his company will be tolerable in exchange for wine and good food.
Efanydd Sylvir, sir. the elf says by way of introduction. In town for the Festival I assume? Hopefully this attack is not especially portentous, afterall it is a somewhat unfortunate start for the new Cathedral especially since the last one burnt down.
Shara blinks as the man steps out of cover and suddenly starts gushing. "Oh good gods, who is this man?" She puts on a polite smile and reminds herself that he doesn't mean any harm. "I'm flattered, though I don't know how long I could have held out without my allies to make use of my magic. And we're just doing our part of protect the town." She considers his offer. He doesn't seem harmful, just a bit overly enthusiastic. "I find myself at the Dragon a fair bit, so it's no trouble to see you there again."
As Gao sees the last goblin fall down, he smiles at the fact it's caught alive. Perhaps even a creature of destruction could redeem itself, whether in words or actions., he ponders onto the sprawled goblin. He stands up a moment later, as his face turns from smiling to neutral at the sight of his torn shirt, and is ready to speak as the thin man approaches.
As Aldern speaks his mind, Gao's smile turns to a grin. Is this how one woos a woman in this custom? Or is he truly awed by this display of magic. He rubs his chin, then bows to the newcomer. "It is said, to be a hero is to simply act when others watch, Aldern Foxglove. Although I do agree on the wonderful magickery wielded here, an impressive display indeed." He bows towards Shara. "Dauntless Ming Ming said, while good actions are their own reward, to deny hospitality is a folly. And I do happen to need another shirt.", he smiles, then slaps himself on the forehead.
"Is anyone injured? I could lend them my assistance.", he offers, as his hand glows in a flurry of yellowy-white symbols, which then unfurl themselves over his injury, then with the guidance of his hands and body start hovering around, as if ready to be directed at others' wounds.
I have 6 Heavenly Rays available, which heal for... 1d4+1. Gao will be fully healed, but I can't do it more than once per person, per day.
Uriel nods as the mention of Gao's offer of assistance. "Nothing serious, but one of those little creatures nicked me in the square. My thanks, Gao." Uriel just raises an eyebrow at Aldern's foppish display of affection toward Shara, but doesn't say anything. Even he, growing up cloistered in a Ragathien cult, knew that wasn't likely to get the other man anywhere soon. "I've been staying at the Rusty Dragon, myself. Meeting you there is no trouble."
Still somewhat uncomfortable with magic Matoska shakes his head at Gao's offer of healing.
''My wounds are of no consequence. Thanks for your offer in either case.''
Matoska will shake his head at the Varisian's odd display but smiles and nods when he offers them rewards.
''Mother always said that saying no to a gift is like charging a pack of orcs with your hands tied.... it is not done. I shall gladly accept your offer.''
Tying the Goblin's hands behind its back and securing it in irons, he hefts the beast up and unto his shoulder.
''Shall we escort this man back to father Zantus or shall we leave him here and search for more wounded?''
The hunter uses a patch of cloth from an expiring goblin to clean his blades and wipe the worst of the gore from his travel-stained leathers. He drops the bloodied cloth on the cooling corpse as he speculatively eyes Foxglove, instantly distrusting the smarmy man. He seems the sort that likes to end up with your money in his pocket.
To Gao's observation he replies, "It's also said that a hero is a sort a' sandwich. A pretty good one, as I reckon."
1st Spells (2): x
Touch Good (6):
Arrows (20): --
Effects:
Efanydd looks the man up and down and searches in his memory palace for any reference he has for a man in this area by the name of Foxglove.
"Good to meet you." Foxglove turns to smile at Efanydd, but his gaze returns to Sandra soon enough. "Yes, I came for the Festival. Nice to see some sights and be part of such a celebration, I thought. And then this excitement, well! I can't say I'm too sorry it happened, though." He smiles nervously and blinks as he looks away, as if suddenly very interested in the surroundings. "Good to hear you can meet me! Wonderful. I'm looking forward to it very much."
Shortly after Matoska ties up the tougher goblin and hoists it to his shoulder, wondering what to do with it, there's a call from the southern road. The heroes turn to see Sheriff Hemlock approaching, his sword sheathed once more and spatters of goblin blood across his clothing. He nods as he sees that everyone seems more or less well, and his eyes come to rest on the goblin's body. "That one alive? Good. Bring it to the jail, I'm going to see if I can't learn something about all this. Town seems cleared up for now, we've driven off the little bastards. Most of them fled south, some went up to Junker's Cliff and jumped off. Stupid, but saved us some work." He looks around at the other corpses and sighs. "Gorvi'll have his work cut out for him. My thanks for your help."
Yes, were thought it prudent to give you the opportunity to question this one. Efanydd indicates the larger goblin. Ostensibly it was the leader of this raid and perhaps might provide some insight on why they have become so bold and, more importantly, whether you can expect more of this kind of thing.
I have some experience in these matters if you would like a second opinion when questioning it? he asks.
Turning to the others he says;
A good thing you were all here to turn this disaster into a victory.
"We can bring the creature by, of course. Do you speak their language? I learned it while I was being raised in Magnimar, I can act as a translator or aid you in interrogating the creature if need be." Uriel seems disinterested in Foxglove now, more focused on the problem at hand.
"I've always meant to learn Goblin," Shara muses. "But I've never had the time. It was more important to learn languages with some... academic value. Maybe you could show me some of the basics at some point."
''You speak Goblin as well Uriel? Perfect, between the two of us we should be able to aid in the interrogation in that case.''
Matoska then leans towards Uriel and whispers in another language.
He rasps out a couple of short sentences and then turns to address the sheriff.
''Sheriff, where shall we take this creature? I'm still not very familiar with the town's layout.
".. Of course." Uriel responds to Matoska's question in Common, shaking his head for a moment. "It wouldn't be right. Not even for such a creature as this."
''You speak Goblin as well Uriel? Perfect, between the two of us we should be able to aid in the interrogation in that case.''
Matoska then leans towards Uriel and whispers in another language.
** spoiler omitted **
He rasps out a couple of short sentences and then turns to address the sheriff.
''Sheriff, where shall we take this creature? I'm still not very familiar with the town's layout.
I would be less concerned with niceties than with ensuring there isn't a horde of goblins in the treeline personally. But it is as you wish. he adds with a shrug, clearly non-plussed with the whole thing.
Shara, I have always found it useful to treat learning a language in the same way as you might a new spell, by breaking it down into component elements - vocalisations and pronunciation. Goblinoid is a gutteral and fairly rudimentary language, I have confidence you could pick it up with very minimal effort. the investigator says.
Still hefting the goblin on his shoulder Matoska turns to address the elven man.
Matoska also finds himself nodding at the Elf's assessment of the Goblin language.
''Effanydd is correct in this Shara, Goblin is not a complex language.'' He gives out a deep chuckle. ''If a man like me can learn the language I have no doubt you'll pick it up with ease.''
He laughs self-deprecatingly again and says no more.
Efanydd frowns and then gives a throw-away gesture with one hand.
I don't see the issue. It must have known there would be some consequence if it failed and if it didn't know that then it is no more wise than, say, an uncontrolled fire. A simple act of mindless destruction. And I daresay the people here, righteous or no, would have no problem extinguishing that.
Personally I have always felt that the distinction between righteousness and self-righteousness is somewhat muddied.
Anyway, shall we? he says, indicating with a sweeping gesture the way after the Sheriff.
"Leader?" Sheriff Hemlock snorts at Efanydd's suggestion, but he steps toward Matoska and the goblin nonetheless. "I'm not sure I'd assume that just yet, but it's worth asking, anyway. We've got a couple of others, too. Between them, we might get a story that makes some sense." His tone is more than a little doubtful, but he gestures for the Shoanti to hand him the unconscious brute.
At the heroes' offers to assist in interrogating the goblin, Hemlock pauses for a moment, then shakes his head. "No, I think we'll be alright. I can't say I can hold a conversation in their language, but I know enough to ask the right questions and tell when I have an answer. And frankly, while you've done this town a service, I don't know most of you from this bastard." He gestures to the goblin; if he feels at all bad about the implication or rudeness of his simple truth, he doesn't show it. "As far as torture, well, I don't go that far in my work, and neither do any of my men." He gives a thin smile. "Like I said, I know enough of their language to do my job."
Then the Sheriff folds his arms and regards the party. "Although... I don't need your aid in questioning these goblins, but you've proven yourselves good folk, and capable. If I do need any help in making sure this is all wrapped up, you'll be the first I get in touch with."
"If you feel you have this well enough in hand, I'll leave it to you, Sheriff." Uriel gives Hemlock a curt nod, then finally replacing his sword in its sheath. "Should you need any help in dealing with this... unpleasantness, I'm staying at the Rusty Dragon. Ask for Uriel; I'm fairly certain the young lady running the place knows my name enough to point you to my room. I'll be happy to help, if you find yourself needing it."
Gao raises a particularly interested eyebrow as his recent companions have taken to conversing in tongues. A moment later, he shrugs. Perhaps this is how I would sound if I was to start talking in Dtang., he ponders, placing a hand on his chin and nodding thoughtfully in the distance. When the conversation turns towards torture, Gao's face turns surprised, then woefully serious for the first time since anyone has seen him. "It would be inconsiderate to use such methods indeed, Sheriff.", he nods graciously towards the Shoanti man. "I do hope that you will hold yourself to the laws of your land.", he adds. "As for aid, we aided this far, to not help further would be to see a work not finished." I wonder if someone said that.
He pats his hands together, sending another saddened look at the dead dog. "Perhaps we should see how best we can aid the rest of the town? I hope nobody has been claimed by the Lady in Gray and White.", he says worriedly.
As you wish, Sheriff. Efanydd says, ambivalent on the matter.
With all of the excitement of the day the investigator wonders if now might be a good time to pursue Shara about a meeting with her mentor but if anything over his long years he has learned patience, at least in certain regards.
Mr Gao if you would like some company on your rounds I will assist. he offers with a small tilt of the head. There was something at least distracting about the monk's pseudo-wisdom.
"Well, I certainly don't doubt your ability sheriff. You've been on top of things for long enough. I wish you good luck trying to get the little cretin to talk, but I need to go make sure that mom, Uncle Quinn, and Brodert made it through alright." She nods to the odd noble and her new group of... acquaintances. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you all again within the next few days, but I need to make sure my family is still kicking." With that, she hurries away.
Matoska nods and hands over the goblin to the sheriff.
"Apologies sheriff, I did not mean to accuse you of anything I just was worried about nothing I suppose."
He offers the sheriff a small bow and says nothing else.
He nods to Shara at her departure.
Gao smiles cheerfully at the elven man. "It would be my utmost pleasure to be accompanied by a man of your keen intellect, Master Efanydd.", he says, bowing down. "I simply mean to aid in whatever repairs and cleaning I can do, but as such work challenges the body, a conversation would surely train the mind alongside with it. Now...", he starts saying as he heads into town. "A concept I have been pondering onto was the concept of languages.", he says. "I have learned a couple of words of Thassilonian, and, of course, I have learned your language to a certain extent as well.", he starts the conversation.
"What I find somewhat fascinating is how your writing and our differ. Yet pronounciation is not a thing one can learn without a speaker of the tongue. That makes me think - we pronounce words in Thassilonian, and we understand their meaning - yet we can be completely wrong in their pronounciation to one who has heard the language speak." He smiles, having made his case, and raises a curious smile towards the elf. "Very curious indeed. It is one of the things that brought me here. Yourself?"
I think we can make a reasonable approximation. Efan replies. Existing languages such as giant and to a lesser extent orcish and goblinoid are derivative of Thassilonian. While they are a thousand generations removed, some of the pronunciation will not have differed too much.
I am on something of a journey myself. Nothing so crass and cliched as a journey of self-discovery but there are certain things about ancient Thasillon that I suspect, and rather hope, will be personal in nature. I sharpen my mind as a knight sharpens his sword and this ancient civilisation is a most keen and intriguing whet stone. The Old Light seems like as good a place as any to start.
Often the work I do as an investigator is purely a distraction, a mental exercise. Other people will be deeply affected by the outcome if it is for example a robbery, a fraud and so on but I find myself able to focus on the evidence more successfully if I remain detached. Besides, in my experience people lie and evidence does not.
He continues to walk besides the monk, gracefully using his cane to lead the way, punctuating his long strides with a thunk on the cobbles.
The rest of the evening is spent evaluating the damage but while Gao lends his lean and strong body to the task of repairing doors and windows, Efanydd looks at the manual labour with distaste and almost disinterestedly waves his hands to enact his Mending and Mage Hand spells.
The Sheriff thanks the heroes for their assistance and willingness, and takes his leave, the goblin bouncing on his shoulder like a sack. The rest of the evening is spent cleaning up from the attack: setting things back to rights, carting corpses out of town or dumping them off the cliff, and mentally recovering from the peril. The people of Sandpoint are hardy and cheerful, though, and by nightfall the worst of the attack seems well over. At the Rusty Dragon, the nightly supper sees several townsfolk recount humorous moments from the attack; the crowd roars with laughter when one of the stable boys describes a goblin leaping from the roof only to impale itself on a pitchfork. There's pain lingering, for sure, but Sandpoint is still standing and, for the most part, quite well.
- - - - -
The next morning, those heroes staying at the Rusty Dragon come down to the main room to find Sheriff Hemlock waiting for them. He waves each of you over and offers to pay for your meals. "It's the last I can do, seeing as I'm about to ask for your help," he says. Very little of the mirth that spread back over the town the night before has lasted with this man; the smile he tries is more a grimace, and it quickly fades.
Those not staying at the Rusty Dragon are met by a member of the town guard in the morning, knocking at their door and waiting outside. They inform you that Sheriff Hemlock would like to speak with you at the Rusty Dragon Inn, and he expressed that it was a matter of some importance. They also somewhat uncomfortably admit they were ordered to accompany you there, unless you have pressing reasons not to attend.
Shara hurries home, searching the streets to for any sign of her family. She's more than a little relieved to find Jorgi and her mother both safe and sound at the Hagfish. She elects to join the party near the docks rather than heading back up to the Dragon, but the only noticeable difference is the location. More than one person has a story of a goblin managing to get himself killed, and Shara shares a slightly dramatic retelling of the battle in the cathedral square. She's up early the next morning, meeting the guard at the door only after a decent breakfast. "This may be the first time Hemlock's had to have me escorted somewhere when I haven't blown up something important," she jokes as they head to the Dragon. "Good morning sheriff," she adds brightly when they arrive. "How are you this fine day."
Good as his word from the wagon battle, Rajuna buys pints for the men and lady with whom he shed goblin blood. He is amicable but spends more time listening than speaking, seeming content to drink and nod at his companions' comments.
With the sheriff paying, Raj orders a sizable breakfast. "'Mornin'... What sort of help?"
1st Spells (2):
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Efanydd steeples his fingers and leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. The Sheriff seemed to indicate he had everything under control yesterday evening but now he is approaching a group of strangers with a problem to be solved. That suggested that the investigator was right, naturally, and that this goblin threat was more than it seemed.
Please go on. he encourages.
Waking early as was his custom, Matoska goes through his morning ritual, practicing a series of stretches and warm up katas to get his body warm and flexible, ready for the new day.
He dresses and grabs his equipment as quietly as he can so as not to wake his host. Deciding to head down to the Rusty Dragon for some breakfast, as food was not part of his agreement with his blacksmith host. He arrives just a few short minutes before the sheriff and smiles widely when the man offers to pay for breakfast.
He sits down to listen as he mentions needing their help.
Uriel gives a nod of thanks as the sheriff mentions he's paying for their meals, and keeps a neutral expression when he explains he'll be asking for their help. "Not that I'm inclined to say no, but with what? You seemed somewhat certain you could handle things yourself yesterday, did something change?"
Gap is surprised for a moment as he notices the sheriff, but nonetheless bows down and offers a friendly smile. Without many words, he places himself upon the table as the others arrive and begins slowly eating with the appetite of a man who did heavy work the previous day, and is now ready to recharge, carefully listening in onto the conversation.
A few bowls of soup and a fair helping of fish later, he rubs his belly with delight, and turns towards the sheriff. "Thank you for the meal, sheriff.", he says graciously, before nodding. "It would be my greatest honor to aid the town, of course. Have you managed to persuade your captive to speak? Hopefully, through less than violent means.