Damien watches the law in Fairhill walk away with a bemused expression, "Well played, Deputy. Doubt it'll be the last hurdle in this mess but at least it's behind us."
Grabbing a handful of Vorgya's hair, he turns her head so he can see her face, "Well, I certainly hope you have something else up your sleeve."
Leoven is not much happy with the delay. The return to Fairhill remind he that the life of an unborn child will be lost unless they do something about it...so many wrong things in the world.
As the gnome and the paladin head off, Damien sighs, happy to avoid dealing with Shandril.
He nods to Janna and the Deputy, "Well, we best see our friend to her accommodations, no? Quicker the better. We still need to hit the market, and she's miserable company to boot."
Vhillish gives a nod of acknowledgement to his orders and prods the bound Vorgya to give her impetus toward the cells;
"Time for you to make the acquaintance of Fairhill's custodial hospitality whot! No funny business mind! For as you know first hand - our Mistress Faen is truly a force to be reckoned with!"
The gnome leads their prisoner toward the cells...
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The svirfneblin nods at Lauriel and trots over when Damien is finished to whisper close to the bound woman's ear then looking at her face for a reaction, "I reckon Golden Palms will want you silenced now! Ba Da Bing Ba Da Dead."
Unsatisfied again, Jerrid follows the drow maiden towards the sanctuary with very mixed emotions and waits outside.
Jerrid purses his lips at what she says and slowly smiles, "he is a nasty man that Vortigern isn't he? Sends his familiar to steal the most precious magic here in Un- cough Fairhill, taunts you and all because he wants that amulet of Eralion's. Don't worry, sweetpea, we are going after that man who has your bowl and we will cut his imp's heart out as a gift for you. This has got interesting."
That is pretty weird, Imps should not have such things, and dropping it before leaving is suspicious
Leoven go an ask to janna if she know what kind of familiar this vortygen have.
Janna made her way to the shrine arriving as Leo goes to make his request of her. Vortigern had an Imp as a familiar, it went by the name Talon. she says after overhearing some of the conversation.
it is possible our old nemesis has returned.
Kevezyat listens to Shandril's speech, her eyebrow raising at her uncharateristic apology to Jerrid, then taking on a more compassionate air at he High Priestess' admission of fault.
Her brows furrow at the mention of the theft and desacration by the all too familliar description of Voltiger's ally.
"Freya's wisdom comes in all forms, Shandril, even the wisest of us sometimes do not see her aims clearly." Kevezyat says gently, placing a ebony hand on the priestess's shoulder.
"I did not realize that Voltigern was a follower of the undead lord, Orcus. Janna, could you confirm this?" Kevezyat asks of their leader.
Now that Janna and Leo have entered the Shrine, Jerrid leaves them with the priest to scout around.
Sam heads to do some shopping and invite Lannet along.
He wants to get some smoke sticks and smoke grenades. Visiting around, he will be trying to find some sources of information from the seedier inhabitants of the town.
On the way into the guard tower Damien makes a note of good vantage points from which to observe any comings and goings. Once inside he makes casual conversation with the guard(s) about their routine.
Stepping back outside, Damien gives his former Sergeant an uneasy look, "Lets just hope the b~~@@ doesn't get us killed before this is all over."
Shrugging he adjusts his armor, "Right, just the three of us then. Suppose we'd best see to the requisitions. Come on Astor."
Taking the leads of Lucky 7 and the now unburdened pony, he heads into the Fairhill market to see about selling the equipment the group has collected on their travels, "Bet we can get something for this pony as well, never get the damn thing inside a wizard's keep. Takes a special kind of stupid only found in mules like Lucky and damned "adventurers" for that..."
Once himself and the Deputy have finished with the buying and selling. Damien makes his way to the Drunken Cockatrice, greeting Glarian with an uncharacteristic smile, "Lovely as ever, my lady. Long road behind us and I must admit I've missed your cooking near as much as your smile. I'll have a pint of something cold and a hot plate of whatever masterpiece you've graced us with today."
Taking a table large enough to accommodate the others, he settles in with Vhillish to wait for their return.
Janna ponders Kev's question, trying to recall what she remembers. From what i remember, Vortigern, in his younger days, back when we were....friends", The thought of actually believing they were friends at one time give janna some pause.
Anyway, he was far to rigid, a stickler for rules, and following the process. I don't think he would have ever been interested in what Orcus had to offer. but, Janna seems to recall something else as she recollects what she knows.
pulling out a parchment from her pouch, A friend of mine from Bard's Gate. one of my roommates at the Academy actually, just sent this, It seems she is investigating some Orcus cult uprising in someplace called "The City of Ashes" I wonder if these two things are connected.
Giving a moment for that to register, Janna turns to the Priestess, Shandril, we brought in a possible slaver that is using her political influence with the Golden Palms trading company to escape Justice. while we deal with this Orcus, infestation, could you please look into this little political cover-up?
Damien let's out a long sigh before taking a seat across from the halfling, "It would be stirges wouldn't it... "
"So master halfling, what's to become of you? We got your little bauble back. Are you free to loiter as you please, or is this a last meal before they drag you back to a cell?"
"Lauriel didn't even give me a second look. Seems like she had something bigger on her mind. Maybe we'll find out when Leoven and Kevezyat get back from Shandril's shrine. Don't worry, Glarian knows how to remove the poison sacks safely before she stuffs them. It's a delicacy. You're gonna love it."
"Aye, if the lady here cooked it I've no doubt. So, say you've earned your freedom in Lauriel's eyes. What do you intend to do with it?"
Lannet leans in conspiratorially.
"Well.. Janna likes magic. I'm thinking of becoming a master magician."
He waves his fork around like a wand.
"Pyew! Pyew! Pyew!"
Damien snorts, "That's all the world needs, you with the power to bend reality..."
Taking a wonderfully cold swig from his finally arrived pint, he gives the halfling a sidelong look, "Honestly son, you might consider training as a proper warrior. It's rare enough you see someone with the courage to make a charge like you did against the golden palms...stupid as all hell to be sure. Damned lucky you weren't skewered for good. Still, discretion can come later. It's the guts you can't learn."
Looking disgusted with himself, Damien sighs and raises his mug slightly to the small miscreant.
Sam approaches Lannet and quickly signs a few meaningful hand gestures to the halfling as he sits. Sam seems to be feeling nostalgic, having eaten a few pies and walked through the town as if he owned it.
Catching the last part of the conversation, Sam casually mentions: "It is nice to have figured out all the world's mysteries. I am still studying them. The more I know, the more I find out I don't know!!"
Sam produces his theatrical kit that can quickly transform the look of those he applies the arts of disguise to, and, after quick reflection, turns to Damien. "If you wish to expand your horizons, you are invited to a night of being anyone other than the pensioned soldier."
If Lannet agrees, Sam begins the fine art of disguising themselves to explore the town in the guises of others. He seems curious to see if the Damien will be joining them. Pausing with a bit of what the ladies call makeup, but Sam knew that disguising the appearance of the eyes and the lines around the upper face was 90% of altering ones appearance.
Damien is clearly surprised that the halfling's offer seems genuine, "Trust me son, if I still drew a pension this table would have one fewer occupant."
Still, at least I'd know where the little troublemakers were...
The veteran's brow furrows in thought for a moment, contemplating the brush, "I assume you're hoping to accomplish more than simply expanding our horizons?"
Kevezyat takes the ceremonial sword from Shandril, her eyes wide. Gripping its old leather hilt, she takes a few practice swings, the metal seemingly singing as it passes through the air.
Looking back at the priestess, "It shall be done, Shandril."
Turning to Janna, "Our journey to the keep now has a holy writ, Janna, does this suit you?"
Janna nods, I don't think it really need one, I would have done what was necessary to retrieve the crucible regardless. Still, a Holy writ can't hurt.
Lannet pulls out a chair for Sam at the table. "Stay and eat with us Samduc! I've had enough excitement for one day. I'm going to feast here and then have some drinks before I turn in at the Cask & Flagon. I've got a permanent room there you know. There's a magician checked in around the time you all arrived, name of Feriblan. I'm going to ask him to teach me how to cast spells."
Damien smirks at the thief, "Aye, once you're out of the fire you start talking sense. The golden palms will need time before moving on our friend in the cells. This might just be our last chance for a quiet night."
"So there might be another mage of some skill here in Fairhill. Do you know anything about this Feriblan?"
"Nope, he checked in around the time you all arrived, paid in full for a room for two weeks but that was the last he was seen as far as I know. I only know he was a magician because a cat came in to the Cask all alone after he did. I thought it was strange, a cat walking into a tavern, so I followed it up the stairs and saw the door to Feriblan's room closing just as I got to the hall. So I figure he is a magician and the cat is his furmiliar."
Lannet rolls his bib into a cone shape, folds a brim, and dons it as a pointy cap.
Damien's expression darkens as Lannet talks, "This cat. Tabby, yeah? I dislike being spied upon. Once we're finished our meal I'd like to go see if this "magician" is still around?"
Sam let's Lannet how a nightie visit is indicated.
Vhillish sits with the halflings and Damien consuming his frugal supper as he listens to the conversation. The veteran finishes the evening with his customary refined brandy and he adds his tuppence worth;
"Quite Master Lannet. I reluctantly agree with the Lieutenant that you have earned your freedom upon the field of battle whot! Should Fairhill decide you still have time to serve I shall extol your merits and suggest clemency..."
At the suggestion of a wizard-hunt Vhillish looks resigned to keeping his friend and former commanding officer safe whilst providing opportunity to watch over the troublesome halfling duo...
The veteran allows Damien and the halflings to fire the opening salvo of questions... for his purpose he merely observes and judges the reactions of the innkeep:
:
Jerrid enters the Inn for food, he carries a sack of bits and pieces he has bought. He sidles into a high seat by the window and watches outside.
"Shandril had bad news. Her Crucible has been stolen, probably by an imp. That imp then went on to the shrine of Bowbe and peed around but left a rag of the unholy symbol of Orcus."
He asks Glarian for a meat pie and then another and a small beer. He pays for that and a room.
"I want a few days to rest and recover to watch Vorgya before we leave for the Keep. I'm looking for a wizard for magicks to learn as well as a silvered weapon."
The gnome uses a knife to clean dirt from under his long sharp nails. The snake, Medus, licks at the meat gravy gently while he is busy.
Damien shakes his head, "An imp you say? Sounds distinctly like a certain acquaintance of ours, no? Vortigern's closing in. I don't think we have time to loiter, knee-high."
"When we arrived, Vorgya asked for no representative here nor did Lauriel try to contact anyone on the b$&$*'s behalf. I'd say her little troupe was their only presence here. That means the closest help she's likely to have is Crimmor. Word first has to reach her allies before they can even set out to assist. I'd wager that gives us three days on the short end before anything interesting happens. Should be time enough to see to our own business and return, no?"
When Jerrid mentions the silvered weapons, Damien stands and opens his backpack, "From what I hear, there's not much to be had on the magic front. Silver is another matter..., producing a pair of scabbarded shortswords, clearly sized well too small for himself, Damien tosses them both on the table in front of Jerrid and Sam respectively, "These should suffice, bloody miracle to find two in your size. A third for me was a damn sight simpler."
"Have to ask Leo of Kev but I think you'll need more than that. But the priest should be able to put a little mystical oomph into 'em when the time comes."
Kevezyat nods and smiles at Janna's statement, then turns to Shandril "By your leave, priestess. I would inform the others and make preparation..."
Giving the priestess a slight bow, Kevezyat leads Janna back to the Inn, looking for the others.
Sam is at the inn, but is confused.
"We want days to rest and recover, but when I suggested restoring the baby, a few days was too much. I would hope we leave tomorrow to fix this crucible thing, or spend one day here at most."
Sam takes the silver sword and looks at it, appreciating the shine.
Damien nods to Tamen, "Ah well, thanks for your time.", he tosses the man a silver as thanks.
"I suppose you'll be returning to your room, Lannet? We're more than like shipping out in the morning. I guess we'll see you when we see you...try not to charge anymore angry half-orcs."
With a last nod, he heads back to the Cockatrice with the Deputy, "Damn me, but I'll almost miss the little bastard."
At the Inn, Damien nods as the others return, "About time. Jerrid says Shandril's in hot water again? Someone stole her bowl...for real this time?"
As Kev takes a seat, Damien hands her the last of his purchased shortswords, "A little insurance, in case the halfling's right about vamps...or more rat-men for that matter."
To his surprise, he nods at Sam's comment, "Aye. I'd like to be gone early tomorrow. We were hired to do a job and I'm well sick of delays."
Leoven remains Silent most of the time, partially because that is how he is but also because try to figure out why and Imp would have a symbol of Orcus in its possession.