"Well, we could try tying the rope around his neck and then pulling him up that way. I've heard they do that in some regions, but I don't know how well it works."
Standing tall and grabbing the rope, Brok motions to wrap it around Panros's head.
"But I'm willing to give it a shot! Shall I?"
Alex looks at Brok. Hard. "No. Climb out and get help or a longer rope or something."
Looking a little disappointed, Brok grabbed the hanging rope and started to pull himself up.
"Fine. Have it your way."
As he climbed up, Brok noted that several hours had passed since they'd entered the tunnels. It was now dusk, and the sun had started to set. The sky was a deep crimson color as the last vestiges of light vanished from the world.
Given that several hours had passed, few of the townsfolk had bothered to stick around and see if the brave (and mildly foolish) adventurers actually emerged from the ruins of the Witch Tower.
Only a single soul remained, sitting upon a small hunk of rock that likely once belonged to the tower. Her head was dipping as though asleep, but even from the top of the ruin Brok recognized it as Deputy Mulle, the same woman who had tried to bar them entry earlier.
Brok wasted no time, calling out to the guard while frantically waving his arms.
"Hey! Guard-lady! Help, and stuff!"
The woman's head bobbed another few times, as though somewhat conscious enough to hear the cry for help, but not enough to wake up. She started to drift forward... Slowly, with a few more inches...
She tumbled off the rock and clattered down into the dirt, waking up in fright and fumbling to try and draw her blade. Brok saw the whole thing from his perch, and could not restrain his laughter.
Hearing the outburst of chortling laughter, Deputy Mulle glared in the direction of Brok, which served to mostly silence him. With her pride bruised beyond repair, the Deputy brushed away most of the dirt, and tried to put on her best "boss" voice.
"What is it, wanderer? I do remember warning you not to come complaining when the tower fell on your head."
She paused, realizing how harsh that must have sounded.
"Oh, tell me it didn't actually fall on your head!"
With a wide smile, Brok cheerfully called back his answer.
"Not my head! The dwarf's! And not really his head, but more his leg. There's a big ol' hole where his leg should be!"
The guardswoman grimaced. Even from his distance Brok could see her envisioning the damage. He'd seen it, though, and it wasn't all that bad. Panros was only half-dead, at the most.
She called back, legitimate concern in her voice.
"Okay! Stay there, I'll get a healer! Just - keep pressure on his wound, alright!"
She sprinted away, her sword left behind at the rock - where it had fallen from her belt when she tumbled into the dirt.
Brok turned and looked down into the hole. "It's okay! They're getting help! I think!"
Roughly ten minutes later, Deputy Mulle came jogging back up the hill, clearly out of breath. Behind her was a middle aged man clad in robes of white and gold, a large golden key dangling from a chain around his neck. He kept his hand clamped on his puffy golden hat, trying to keep it from flying off as he ran (well, stumbled, really) up the hill behind the Deputy.
Mulle grabbed her sword with a sigh of relief, quickly clamping it onto her belt.
"By the Vault, Mulle, this had better be important. You have interrupted our scriptural review of The Order of Numbers. Most know better than to disturb a Prelate in the midst of study."
"Of course, Prelate Targas, of course. It is a matter of grave importance, as I said." She pointed up the ruins, indicated Brok.
Brok waved back.
With a grimace, the cleric turned and started back down the hill. "Right, well, call me on the morrow."
Panicking, Brok called back to the man. "No, no, wait, old-guy! We need help, there's a heavy dwarf down here who's dead or something!"
"If he's dead then there's no rush..."
The priest groaned, then started towards the tower ruin. He stopped at the base of the rubble, looking up the rather hazardous climb at Brok.
"Well, then. Where is he?"
Brok pointed down.
"If you expect these old bones to climb this, then you are an even larger fool than I imagined. Bring him here, else call upon my clergymen in the morn."
"Thanks a lot Brok, you're a life saver. I mean literally. You too, new people. So I guess I have to climb out of here with a dwarf tied to me. Totally.... doable..."
Climb
Overhearing the distant conversation mostly because everyone involved was yelling, Alexander threw his own voice into the mix. Gripping the rope, he wondered if the rope would hold him while carrying a heavy dwarven chap on his back...
Each inch up the rope was agony, but he slowly ascended to the threshold of the tower ruin, where Brok quickly clasped his hand around Alex's and helped the man out of the hole.
The old man at the base of the hill laughed.
"Ha! Is he tied to you?"
Suddenly, a familiar bird fluttered out of the hole and landed on Brok's shoulder. Despite spinning in circles and swatting at it, Brok could not shake Hazrohopas from his perch.
"And you've got a bird? A friend for your little rat, there?"
Rufus looked up at Brok, then down at the cleric, as though in disbelief that he could possible be talking about him. He pointed to the dwarf, an inquisitive look in his eyes. The dwarf was the only rat-like one among them!
"That's no bird... ", Alex said exhausted, "...It's some cursed demon bird that has plagued us all in the redoubt below."
Alex let the dwarf down and then collapsed to the ground. "Anyways, please help this dwarf."
Sliding rather than climbing down the pile of rubble, Brok and Alexander set the dwarf down on the ground in front of the cleric.
"Strange. Looks like a bird.
Hazrogopas tilted his head, and gave his best impression of a caw. Brok stared at the bird, and it stared right back at him. He could swear it was grinning.
The old man clears his throat, and now that you're close enough you can see his rumpled grey-black hair sticking out from beneath his hat. His brown eyes are old and wise, and he sets his hand upon the dwarf's chest.
He closes his eyes, feeling for the dwarf's life force.
"This one is badly wounded. I can do what I can, but it will not be easy. He is on the brink of Pharasma's Boneyard. May the balance of Abadar restore this man, for it is not yet his time."
A cool, golden-red glow began to form around the cleric's key-shaped necklace. Slowly, it began to wind its way down and flow into the dwarf's chest. Muscle and sinew began to twist themselves back together, stitching the hole that had been pierced through the leg. Bone knit itself together, and Panros's complexion slowly returned to normal.
With heavy breathing, Prelate Targas opened his eyes and stared down at Panros, who had begun to stir.
"It is done. My power wanes, and Abadar dictates balance in all aspects of life. He must rest of his own accord to regain full strength."
He stood, then looked to the dwarf's two companions. He quickly assessed them, gathering that they had little in the way of value.
"Consider this a gift from the Master of the First Vault. I shall look forward to your righteous donations to his honor in the future. Now - I must return to my studies."
Stirring from unsconsiousness, the dwarf emits a low groan, expressing the dull numbing pain that had coursed throught his body. "Uhhhh.." was all that he managed to say while he was faced with familiar faces - his friends. Dried blood caked his lips, and after some cursory swabs, he noticed a strange taste...like some sort of plant. His eyes darted to Brok and Rufus, who stood somewhat relieved. "Brok...did you try to...put dirt in my mouth!" said Panros with a roar as he tried to sit up.
A laughter erupted from the group as their friend was still alive. Panros, feeling sore, tried to gather himself. "Ugh...last thing I remember was the world going black...". Even his left leg, felt heavier than normal. When seeing that there had been a significant tear in his clothing, and the tell tale sign of healing, he knew something hadn't been right. "So ye saved me? I'm truly blessed."
Out of the group that he traveled with, it seemed like his true allies were the Druid and his animal friend, and the strange human who keeps getting referred to as the Swamp Monk. There's would be testament of human, half-ef, and dwarf.
Though, their tale would have to wait as the day had been filled with danger, hazards, and friendship building exercising. Gaining help from Brok who barely shouldered the Dwarf's weight up, Panros pointed back eastwards towards the town.
"Alright lads. I've had quite the day. Alex looks about right too, considering we're gonna have to get him new clothes. My vote, head back to Talia's. Her Inn seems right about what I need."
Making the slow walk back to Bellhaim, the heroes had a taste of a true dungeon.
"Make sure you tell Hodd it's his turn to take over..."
Deputy Mulle eased herself back onto the same stone she'd been using as a chair. With a sigh, she waves off the party of battle-worn adventurers. She shook her head, then stood up with a start.
"Oh, right! Lady Devy came by, said she wanted a word with y'all. Though I'm not sure I'd go calling at her estate while looking like that. Best get washed up at The Wise Piper first."
Apparently satisfied, she sat back down, using her blade's scabbard to draw lines through the dirt.
The trek back to Talia's inn only took a few minutes, though the waning light of dusk didn't help. As the town settled down for bed, the trio - and an annoying raven they could not shoo away - came in through the entrance of The Wise Piper.
Cleaning up a few plates from other guests, Talia turned to greet her new guests with a smile.
"Greetings- Oh, dearie me! What happened to the lot of you! You look like you've been through a heck of a day!"
She looked at the group, then stood on her tiptoes to peer behind them. She leaned in closer, her voice low.
"Did you lose that fool who spit on my good wood floor?"
"Did you lose that fool who spit on my good wood floor?"
"Aye...he's wandering somewhere within the floors below in yonder destruction.." was all that Panros managed to say while plopping himself on a stool near Talia's counter. "Me bones ache. 'Appen to have some of that drink earlier...in fact, would you mind pouring a round fer us? We've had quite the day.."
Grizzled, beated, and reeking of a hard day, the life wasn't easy for adventurer.
"Of course, of course!"
The eager innkeep head into the back to prepare a stiff drink for a couple of weary adventurers after waving them over to a free table near the far wall. Even with the summer's warmth, the hearth was lit and cast a warm glow over the entire room.
Returning with a trio of tankards, she set them down on the table.
"Those are going on your tab, of course," she said with a wink. "Though - do tell. What happened to you? I heard even the Countess was looking for you! Not legal troubles, I hope."
She looked to the door.
"You'll have to be going if'n that's the case."
"Those are going on your tab, of course," she said with a wink. "Though - do tell. What happened to you? I heard even the Countess was looking for you! Not legal troubles, I hope."
She looked to the door.
"You'll have to be going if'n that's the case."
"Heh, that'll be the Spitter or Kanade then, though, we lost track of her down there. Poor lass, probably realized that being an adventurer wasn't cut out fer her."
Taking ahold of the tankard, Panros gulped with vigor, gaining back lost strength and washing his mouth from the taste of blood and dirt. "Ahh..thats the spot!" he said while wiping foam off his beard on a rolled up sleeve. "Oh right, the dungeon.."
Leaning in, the glow of the nearby hearth cast a hard light on the Tinkerer as he engaged in recounting events from earlier in the day. "That Witch's tower yall kept on yonder side." he said while pointing eastward. "Was home to something unexpected - a prison!". "Beneath the rubble lied a trap door that lead deeper, where we came upon what seemed like a functional prison complex at one point. Though, much of laid it ruin, most of the masonry laid intact! Weirdly enough, we encountered evidence of what seemed like the Prison's Warden, a feller that went by the name of - Baron Sarvo. Heck, we've even found his family's crest down there."
Taking another long drag from his tankard, he allowed his team's discovery sink within the Innkeeper's mind, granting her stories to tell future patrons. "If that wasn't it, the place isn't devoid of life! We encountered poisonous insects, a viotrolic acid trap that hasn't congealed! A demon bird creature that now stalks us, thanks to that fool Pixis, which won't seem to leave us alone!" Panros said while pointing at the nondescript Raven that took a perch nearby. "Among other things, even an automaton!"
"We wanted to explore further, but...the place is not without hazards. I would've been a goner had it not been fer me two companions here, less you'd have one less customer and genius to grace your presence!"
Brok tries his best to listen to Panros's recount of the events in the dungeon. But the dwarf is long-winded at best, and sleep-inducing at his worst. Putting his face down on the table, Brok started to quietly snore.
"Baron Sarvo, eh? Wonder if he's an old relative of Lady Devy. Though with the way that Tower's been, it'd be a surprise."
Checking over the other tables to make sure no one else needed her - the place was mostly dead, barring a pair of scruffy looking farmers and a half-elven woman minding her own business - she grabbed herself a seat.
"You know, Lady Devy's husband died in that tower. She always looked at it like a sort of memorial to him, I tell you what. Now that it's gone... well, I can't imagine how she's feeling now."
"You know, Lady Devy's husband died in that tower. She always looked at it like a sort of memorial to him, I tell you what. Now that it's gone... well, I can't imagine how she's feeling now."
"To be truthful, atleast one of its denizens didn't try to slay us! We met a feller who cried out for food and escape. Before I could ask who he was, he turned into a skeleton, happy with bread. I can't imagine what sorta spooks are stuck there, but it gives me the impression that Baron Sarvo ruled with an iron fist." The exchange reminded Panros of a treasure he had won earlier - a scroll case bearing the initials "B.H." Holding it into the light, he had hoped that Talia might know. "Even more curious was that we found something like this down there, though it wasn't easy. The make and intials...do they happen to remind you of a person this town may know? I know it's a long shot..."
"Hmm."
She took the scroll case, parsing it over with her hands. he rubbed the initials, as though feeling them would make it more clear. She shook it a little, sniffed it, and then even gave it a cursory lick.
Which she very promptly regretted.
"Probably the wizard's. Matches his initials, after all."
With a smile and nod, she stood up. "Got some work to do, huns. You just make yourselves at home, and remember that the rooms are on me. I'll have a heck of a breakfast ready for you in the morn! Just let me know if y'all need anything."
Talia wandered back to the inn's counter, shuffled some things aside, and disappeared into the back room. As soon as she had, the front door flew open, as though it had been practically kicked wide.
In came a familiar face, complete with the perpetual scowl he wore.
Doalgari, the apprentice.
The innkeeper stuck her head around the corner with a smile. "Welcome, welcome, to The Fine Piper! If you'd be so- oh, it's you." Her smile faded rapidly, and she disappeared back into her storeroom.
With a bit of a scoff, the wizard wandered towards the trio of adventurers. He held out his hand, waiting.
"I do believe you fools have something that belongs to my master. Hurry up, now, for my time is more valuable than yours."
Panros smiled to Talia who quickly set herself to work, and returned to drinking until something broke the peace of the Honest Piper.
The innkeeper stuck her head around the corner with a smile. "Welcome, welcome, to The Fine Piper! If you'd be so- oh, it's you." Her smile faded rapidly, and she disappeared back into her storeroom.
Turning his head, the Tinkerer quickly regretted his decision. It was the Wizard Apprentice he had encountered earlier - Doalgari.
"I do believe you fools have something that belongs to my master. Hurry up, now, for my time is more valuable than yours."
Finishing his tankard with a long gulp, Panros placed the empty tankard within the Wizard's palm.
"Here lad. Its the least you can do fer me!" Panros said with a chuckle, rousing a laughter from his compatriots.
The wizard's eyes narrowed, and with a few words, he levitated the tankard from his hand. It floated in the air, still, for a moment. Then it swung wildly, zipping over to Panros's head and planting itself upside down on his head. A few stray drops of ale dripped down and into the dwarf's hair.
"Bah. These must be the manners you learn when you grow up literally beneath rock. Have you not your personal wench to care for you, dwarf? Departed, has she? Tis pity she's a whore, off servicing another man and his rampant alcoholism."
He cleared his throat, then motioned for the scroll case again.
"I will ask nicely one more time. You are holding my master's property. Return it at once."
"What property? Last time I checked, you dared not to enter the ruins, because ye didn't want to ruin yer robes."
It was convenient that Talia wasn't around, less she heard the Wizard's response, she may have reacted swiftly.
"I'm gonna tell you once, and once only, boy. Go back to yer master like a good little wizard, and study yer books, cause you've got no business telling me what to do."
Doalgari's eyes went wide with shock.
"It's a miracle! You're absolutely right!" The mockery in his voice was practically tangible, reaching out and slapping Panros in the face.
He stops, all sense of sarcasm fading from his voice. "I have absolutely no desire to parlay with a dwarf, let alone command one. There's a reason dwarves are such poor slaves, and it's that foul temper of yours."
He pats Panros on the head like a child - or animal. He looked at the half-elf, and quickly decided he would get nowhere there. He pointed to Alexander instead.
"You must be this creature's handler. Perhaps you can have him heel?"
"Friends, friends! Do not yell so loudly, for I am sorely tired. Perhaps we can come to some agreement. As you can see, we are in need of food and lodging and perhaps a new pair of clothes.", Alex started mumbling, "(That's me. I need a new pair of clothes. I'm basically almost naked now. Please.)", before continuing on with his speech: "If you could accommodate us, we could surely accommodate you."
Panros' face turns into a grimace as Alex's nature was shortsighted.
"Lad, Talia's taking care of us. We don't need this guy's help said Panros as he pointed towards the Apprentice.
There would be no end to the pandering of one who claims to the arcanist elite. Fishing around in his pack, Panros produces the scroll case that he was asking for and tosses it within the hearth.
"Oops. You're talking about that?.
Sensing frustration from the Wizard, Panros follows with a quick statement before shuffling towards the stairs. "Do me a favor, boy. Keep your nose out from it don't belong.
Doalgari simply stands by as the scroll case goes flying through the air and lands comfortably in the hearth, its warm embrace chewing through the wood without any problems.
Instead of being enraged like Panros expected, however, the man simply smiles.
"I guess you had no use for its enchantments, then. 'Tis no matter. My master will simply craft himself a new one on the morrow - after, of course, sending your handler the bill for that one."
With a shrug, he heads for the door.
"Though it would best behoove you to put on some proper clothing if you wish to receive any respect in the market of living cargo. You look like merchandise."
He waved his hand at the door, tossing it open with the same force he had before.
"Ta-ta, fools. I do hope you do not perish before we meet again."
The door slammed behind him, as Talia peeked out from the back room.
"By the gods, I hate that man. Scum of the earth, that one. And he's always coming in here and doing that - I can't complain, though, he always pays for the damages..."
She grabbed a bundle of cloth, blankets, and other things, then hauled it over to the table and rested it in front of Alexander.
"Now them's some proper clothes for ya, hon. I'll put those on the tab with the drinks, if'n ya don't mind. Now - they ain't fancy or nothing, but they'll keep your innards on the inside and your outards on the outside, and keep the ladies from having a panic attack as you stroll down the street, I reckon."
With a smile and a nod, she returns to her work - cleaning up, mostly.
"Night, Talia." said Panros as he trudged upstairs while muttering to himself.
The glint of sun shines in through the windows of the inn's rooms, waking up the weary adventurers and starting a bright and shiny new day. As they slowly roused themselves, stretching out the leftover sleepiness, hurried footsteps could be heard in the hall outside.
Knocking on the doors, Talia called out to her guests.
"Breakfast time, y'all. Come and get it!"
Apparently she was an early riser on top of everything else.
1 of 2 saves.
The lowly adventurers felt much better after a long rest, especially Panros - who was still getting used to the new bone in his leg - and Alexander - who was just happy to have some clothing. He did, however, look like a country-bumpkin farmer. But at least they were pants.
Alexander did wake up with a cough, though. Maybe all that dust and debris wasn't good for the lungs.
"Uhnnnn" he said with a groan as Panros shuffled from his bed suffering from aches and pains that seemed to stretch through every inch of the dwarf's body. "Adventurin'....if it wasn't for the reward, there'd be no point to this...though, gun powda!"
Fetching his backpack and settling down at the nearby chest, Panros had the precious solace of the morning to prepare what he would need for the ensuing dungeon.
"That Bomb Mixture did zots against that Demon-Bird, though...it needs tweeking.." he said while steadying 6 vials before him. 4 of which had their stoppers removed, and lined at a 45 degree angle. "Easy...does it...there!" Pouring what seemed like a mixture of a sandlike substance, and a gelatenous goo, he waited for a moment for the reaction to settle. "Can't have us blowing up the dear Inn because of a mishap. Don't wanna be like dear Cousin Earnst. That damn fool!"
After securing his prepared bombs, then came the gentle and deliberate process of preparing the formulas for the day. The targeted bomb admixture didn't have enough of a particular reagent to keep the effect's duration longer, and well, denying himself the ability to survive an encounter was also another issue. Keeping these problems in mind, he flipped to a page within his formulae book for a particular recipe.
"Ah! Now...may be a waste...though, after yesterday's close call...Poppa's gonna need this one!" Placing a heavy finger on the page, Panros started to mix together the ingredients for a cure light wounds potion. "Now...I'mma make this one green. That'll teach any folks from grabbing at mah gear!" he said with a chuckle. But there still remained what to do with the last vial. "Running ain't gonna solve no problem, especially with me bad leg. Meh, best to try out that force shield I learned about back in Tar Kazmukh."
Though the dwarf had been engrossed in his studies, several rounds of banging on his door from Talia had been ignored. It wasn't until his stomach churned did he remember that even a mad genius needed sustenance.
Packing his gear with quick haste, he opened wide the door, and bore down the stairs to find Talia impatiently waiting at the counter with his breakfast. A smirk lay on her face that only pointed that the dwarf hadn't secured his trousers. "BAH!" he said with a quick tug, quickly obscuring what brief shame he had.
Gathering his wits, he took a seat at the table, and tried to act blasé, pointing out that Alex looked more like the local taste than ever. "Do they make your clothes in male size? HahAhaha!"
Brok woke up with a start - he'd managed to not only fall off of the bed, but drag all of the blankets with him. Rufus sat perched up on his pillow, now the king of the bed.
"Ugh... I need a smoke."
Quickly dressing himself, Brok hobbled his way down the stairs and plopped himself down in the same chair at the far end of the room that he first used on entering the inn. He carefully opened his snuffbox - finding it nearly empty - and prepared his pipe.
As he took a deep drag upon the leaves of his dreams, his mind began to wander across the verdant fields of Golarion, embracing each and every animal and plant as they came together to partake of the enlightening power of flayleaf. As he closed his eyes and slowly let the weight of the world be lifted away from his shoulders, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
At last. The leaf he so desired.
Talia greeted the adventurers with a smile, bringing over a hearty helping of eggs and toast, complete with freshly made butter and jam.
"Hope y'all like a farmer's breakfast! Now remember, boys, no skipping town without paying off your tabs!"
She sets the plates down and turn away, but then stops and pulls a small paper out of her pocket.
"Oh, and before I forget - the apprentice came by at sunup. Brought this."
Passing the paper to Panros, it read the following:
Receipt for the Reimbursement of one Mastercraft Scroll Case:
100 gold pieces for the craftsmanship.
50 gold pierce for its theft.
100 gold pieces for its destruction.
50 gold pieces for incurred emotional scarring.
Total: 300 gold pieces, payable to the estate of Balthus Hunclay, or his assistant, James Doalgari
"Ah! I'd say you're a woman after me own heart, Talia! How'd you know that Eggs and Toast is my favorite breakfast item?! Though...some spiced sausages, a tankard of fresh cider, a side of smoked fish, and those little jellied pastries would also be nice, but...the offer's appreciated, lass!"
Happily munching on his breakfast, Panros seemed to forget all the troubles of the prior day. It was something to be said that a good start to any day was what any adventurer would need. The dwarf was stuffing his mouth with bliss and eager, until a note was passed to him. Thinking nothing of it, he had opened the message and quickly regretted it.
100 gold pieces for the craftsmanship.
50 gold pierce for its theft.
100 gold pieces for its destruction.
50 gold pieces for incurred emotional scarring.
The look upon Talia's face wasn't any better. She probably knew the methods in which the Old Hunclay would remind those that he was the mad hermit sequestered on the hill. Opening the sheet, Panros eyed Talia.
"You've got to be joking. That scroll case was a fraction of the cost that this...this..blithering idiot paid for, and to top if off, thinks he can just tally up fines because of his emotional troubles. Well, I'll tell ya what Talia. This is how we dwarves deal with problems."
A grimace formed on the innkeeper's face as she saw what Panros meant to do. Taking the parchment towards his face, he blew his nose into the paper's fibres, balled it into a sizable shape, and tossed it into the hearth. "Ain't no one's gonna make me pay for something THAT rediculous! And with that, Panros went back to eating.
Talia couldn't restrain her chuckling as she headed back to her countertop, leaning across and watching the patrons enjoying their breakfast.
"I admire your tenacity, hon. But I'd be careful with that one. The apprentice tain't a nice fellow, I tell you what."
She smiled, clearly glad that someone was willing to give him what he deserved, though equally glad it wasn't her.
"So whatta you lot have planned for the day? I hope you're not going to go crawling through the dirt again!"
On cue, a painful reminder of the previous day came fluttering down the stairs from the bed chambers - an annoying raven. Hazrogopas planted himself on the table, picking at Alexander's meal whenever the monk lifted his hands away from it even slightly.
"I admire your tenacity, hon. But I'd be careful with that one. The apprentice tain't a nice fellow, I tell you what."
With half of his mouth filled with jellied toast, Panros wasn't in the mind to let Doalgari and his absurd master mar what would be the last good meal he'll have before dungeoning. Though part of him was happy to see that someone shared a similiar loathing towards the Wizard's behavior, atleast.
"So whatta you lot have planned for the day? I hope you're not going to go crawling through the dirt again!"
As a matter of fact, Panros spoke once he had room to guzzle a helping of cool, refreshing water. "Actually Talia, that's what we're planning to do, after meeting with the Lady Devy. One of the dep's mentioned she wanted to see us."
Much of the dwarf's plate had been devoured, and he looked greedily over towards Alex who had allowed Haz to share. "Look lad, if yer gonna give charity to the boid, atleast let Panros take yer toast. Homemade jelly's a treasure in itself!" he said while reaching over a scooping a slice away. Though, Haz had managed to steal a good chunk for himself, while giving an indignant smile.
"Say Talia, would you happen to know the Witch's tower and its past? Perhaps why, a prison complex, of all places, would belong down there?"
"Well hon, I know the Witch's Tower's just one of them superstituous names. It's been around for as long as I can remember, and for as long as my parents could remember too."
She paused to take a long sip of tea, eyeballing Brok in the corner - who still hadn't moved after starting to smoke. Talia rolled her eyes and continued.
"Your best bet's to ask Bassy, or maybe swing by the Records Hall. Though, those folk are the type that aren't none too helpful. Bassy's your best bet, I'd reckon."
"Your best bet's to ask Bassy, or maybe swing by the Records Hall. Though, those folk are the type that aren't none too helpful. Bassy's your best bet, I'd reckon."
Panros nodded in agreement at Talia's suggestion. "Seems about right. Good thing to keep in mind." Stacking his utensils upon the plate, and placing the tankard nearby, the dwarf had finished his breakfast with ernest.
"Welp, Talia, the breakfast and accommodations, are very much appreciated. Hopefully we'll see each other again. I've got a mayor to talk to, and a dungeon to explore! Giving a small salute, something akin to three fingers extended together cast in a downward fashion, Panros left the counter and motioned towards Brok who had been inhaling copious amounts of Flayleaf. Knowing better than to smack the pipe from the druid's clutches, he placed a leathered palm on the nearby post and leaned in.
"Oy mate, I'm off to see Lady Devy. I understand you're in one of them, trances, or meditations that you...nature folk do. If you wish, I'll meet you at the dungeon's entrance once more, before midday. Unless, you wish to accompany me." Unsure if Brok understood him, he slowly bound the stairs and made his way towards the entrance, half glancing over his shoulder looking for a reaction.
Panros moves towards the door, when it swings open and an older looking woman enters in. Despite her whitening hair, she carried herself with a certain grace that made her status apparent to all observers. A long and flowing dress trailed behind her, though it was just short enough to stop from dragging in the dirt and mud of the dusty little town. A single rose - white, like her hair - was pinned to her shirt, accenting its black and purple embellishments.
She smiled, just barely, and through the wrinkles she displayed an ageless beauty. She stops just before Panros, blocking the doorway and looking down at the short-statured man.
"You must be one the wanderers I've heard were poking through the rubble of the Witch's Tower. I'm Lady Origena Devy, and we need to talk."
"You must be one the wanderers I've heard were poking through the rubble of the Witch's Tower. I'm Lady Origena Devy, and we need to talk."
Panros was taken aback at the sight of the noble woman. He wasn't quite expecting to literally run into the person he sought after. Shuffled to the side and nearly losing his balance, he looked upon Lady Devy with a smile.
"Aye, Mi'Lady. Tis an Honor. Your Deputy Mulle had said to me that you requested my presence. Well, I am intrigued why you would need to see us..." he said with an air of respect. Unlike Pixis, Kanade, and Alexander who were apt with acting without their station, Panros understood that protocol demanded that those in actual power, as opposed to the Old Hunclay and his sniveling apprentice, demanded respect. After all, how can the Tinkerer build his reputation on burning bridges with those who offer nothing.
Holding wide the door to the Honest Piper, Panros gives a slight bow as he escorts Lady Devy within the Inn, earning a rueful smile from Talia. Though he was a mad genius, Panros wasn't above acting when conduct demanded.
"Mi'Lady" he said trying his best to sound polite. "With all due respect, we didn't mean to intrude within your town's property. As adventurers, we were possessed by intrigue and concern to discern the depths of the tower for whatever secrets may lie, and boy, was there something underneath there. Even the Old Hunclay sent his hound to undermind us!" His pride somewhat slipped, hinting at the depths of the dungeons.
Unsure if he had stepped on someone's toes, Panros continued, hoping that the Lady Devy was more interested in the dwarf's findings, rather than punishment. "I tried asking 'round, but that Tower ain't no ordinary structure I've seen. And coming from a dwarf, I'm the resident expert!" he said with a large smile, hoping that his expertise would pay off. "Truth is, a prison complex lies underneath, belonging to some bloke by the name of - Baron Sarvo. Either way, its mostly cobwebs, dried bones, and perils that'll knick ya reel good!"
Panros would sense an overwhelming aura of concern from the magistrate, as if, something he said had bothered her. Unsure if he had opened a subject of taboo, Panros called out to Brok, who had been enjoying the last few hits of his flayleaf.
"Oy mate! Ain't what I said, true?"
Brok jerked forward, awakened from his stupor. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He could smell something. Something - delicious.
Was that-
Bacon?
He jumped out of the chair, looking around the room for the delectable morsels of meat. Instead of bacon, however, he found an inquisitive looking Panros asking for his consent.
"Right, of course."
The dwarf was speaking to some older woman, who looked just as confused as he felt.
"Where's the bacon?"
Lady Origena regarded the half-elf with little more than a shrug, then looked back to the dwarf that had so kindly introduced himself.
"Indeed, I am no stranger to the Witch's Tower. My late husband- Well, that is a story for another time. I have actually come regarding a related bit of business, and since you all have been so inclined to go poking about in the dangerous depths of the earth, I figured I'd found just the right folks for the task."
She paused, letting the words sink in. Something about her mannerisms and voice simply breathed aristocrat - it was in everything she did, although it also had a certain air of rustic quaintness.
"I has suspected Hunclay of being involved in the unscheduled demolition of the Tower. He had been asking for the rights to tear it down for years, now. I, of course, refused him this right. I had believed him to have taken matters into his own hands - but, when Deputy Hodd and I arrived at his doorstep, we found something unexpected."
More dramatic pausing. She took a seat near the hearth, and Brok took this as a cue to sit back down as well.
"A kobold, charred to a crisp. Likely an enchantment placed upon the wizard's door."
She sighed, looked over at the hearth.
"Hunclay has also been missing since the Tower's destruction. I need him found, and I need answers. I cannot have kobolds roaming my town, nor can I have wizards destroying my property. I am, of course, prepared to pay you for your services - and, of course, your discretion. I believe five hundred imperial coins from my personal treasury should be an appropriate sum?"
While taking the inflection of a question, it is unclear if the Baroness is speaking hypothetically.
"You must be one the wanderers I've heard were poking through the rubble of the Witch's Tower. I'm Lady Origena Devy, and we need to talk."I has suspected Hunclay of being involved in the unscheduled demolition of the Tower. He had been asking for the rights to tear it down for years, now. I, of course, refused him this right. I had believed him to have taken matters into his own hands - but, when Deputy Hodd and I arrived at his doorstep, we found something unexpected."
A small chuckle roused from the dwarf's lips. In most societies, adventurers have a sordid relationship; some cities enjoy the business and notoriety an adventurer would bring, but in other cases, they were more of a nuisance. For Lady Devy however, this happens to be the former case, as she recognized a purpose within Panros' machinations.
”Well Mi'Lady, I was possessed by the spirit of intrigue and wanderlust, two very powerful agents that consume my mind. Though...the way how mention Hunclay's motives...I feel as though you're not that far off. At every turn, I've encountered his hound of an apprentice, trying to appropriate that which they desire, going so far as to threaten me for a scroll case that belonged to his master. Though, more puzzling was how it got down there. Whatever the case, it was destroyed, earning the ire from both Wizard and Fool.”
An indignant look formed on the dwarf's face while Lady Devy was scanning the room, to which Talia shot him a quick glance, dissolving his expression.
"Hunclay has also been missing since the Tower's destruction. I need him found, and I need answers. I cannot have kobolds roaming my town, nor can I have wizards destroying my property. I am, of course, prepared to pay you for your services - and, of course, your discretion. I believe five hundred imperial coins from my personal treasury should be an appropriate sum?"
Understanding that the Lady Devy was a woman of her word, Panros has tried to sweeten the deal, imploring with her for additional funds, hazard pay, and of course, some claim to bring her family glory. However, the idea of gaining funds had blinded the dwarf of his sensibilities, making him sputter nonsense, earning a bemused look from the noble.
”Uhh...nevermind, Mi'Lady.” Grasping for a tankard of water, he brought refreshment backk to his dried cracked lips, and tried again. ”So...if Hunclay may be the root of this problem, what do you think he hopes to learn from the prison complex below? And, should his hound, Doalgari, attempt to impede me in my endeavors, do I have your graces in taking the law into my hands?”
I believe five hundred imperial coins from my personal treasury should be an appropriate sum?
"Yes. Very yes."
Brok looked to Rufus, who looked just as excited at him. Five hundred coins would by a lot of flayleaf...
"Oh, and bacon. Very bacon."
And, should his hound, Doalgari, attempt to impede me in my endeavors, do I have your graces in taking the law into my hands?
Brok sat patiently while the dwarf made his usual long-winded case. But finally he spoke up when Panros paused for breath.
"No, no. That sounds messy. Let's not do that."
Lady Origena Devy looks almost appalled at the suggestion, nodding at Brok across the hearth.
"Absolutely not, good dwarf! I will not condemn a man or his employees on mere suspicion."
Hurriedly standing, with her dress and silken cloak flowing behind her, she cast a disdainful glance at Panros.
"And I would appreciate you showing a bit of respect to the residents of Belhaim. Even if Doalgari is far from the most agreeable man under in my domain, he is still my subject. You are to find Hunclay, and find out why a kobold's body sits upon his doorstep. You will be paid five hundred coins for your services, and that will be plenty - and all, if you are so quick to throw away the lives of my people."
She started to stride towards the door, hardly waiting for a response to her parting commentary.
"Then - I believe we are done here."
"And I would appreciate you showing a bit of respect to the residents of Belhaim. Even if Doalgari is far from the most agreeable man under in my domain, he is still my subject. You are to find Hunclay, and find out why a kobold's body sits upon his doorstep. You will be paid five hundred coins for your services, and that will be plenty - and all, if you are so quick to throw away the lives of my people."
Casting a sidelong glance as the Baroness sauntered out of the Inn, Panros called attention to Talia.
"Well, can't hurt to see if I won't get in trouble for roughing up Doalgari. Though, that's just another set back."
A heavy sigh escaped the dwarf. Things had just gotten more complicated. "Brok, looks like we're to find this mad old hermit, and me gut's telling me, it won't be a good time. That Doalgari's going to be quick a sore on us. Best put your game face on."
Motioning towards the doorway, he called out over his shoulder. "I'll be seeing you, Talia".
Passing through the double doors, Panros was faced with a rather beautiful morning, the light streaking from the east had cast resplendent rays upon Bellhaim, showing off a different scene that the day prior. Though much of the citizens continued to mill about, Panros would see how one day, a village like this maybe worth creating an establishment.
One day, I'll create a shop selling my clockwork wares bringing folks all over golarion to buy from me. That of course comes after finding gun powder and bringing about another golden age."
Remembering that the Mad Hunclay resided on a hill near the witch's tower, he had known the direction, but lacked the desire to approach.
"Do I really have to do this?" he said groaning like a teenager faced with farm work. Hefting his pouches and pack, he bound north eastward, passing by much of the town's inhabitants, coming upon Old Quarry Road, and rounded the bend towards the Wizard's abode.
Gulping, he slowly approached the dwelling, thinking that Doalgari would appear at any moment ready to sling both insult and cry to the dwarf. Coming upon the manor's entrance, a dead, charred kobold remained on the door step, a veritable welcoming sign that the door was trapped or rigged.
he said hoping that his voice would echo into the valley below.
With a shrug and a groan, Brok stands up and grabs his plate of breakfast, dragging it out the door with himself behind the overly enthusiastic dwarf.
Half-stuffing an egg into his face and half-yawning, Brok stared at the back of the dwarf's head as they marched across the town.
"Can we hurry this up? My supply's running low."
As the adventurers arrive at the house, the lovely scent of charred kobold still rises from the scorched corpse on the wizard's doorstep. The wizard's estate was an impressive abode, certainly. It likely rivaled the Baroness's home, and may have rivaled the Witch's Tower while it stood.
There doesn't appear to be any means of calling the residents, however.
A single sign is erected, sitting upon an iron pole and set into the ground mere inches from the charred kobold's outstretched arm.
"No Solicitation."
To make matters worse, not a single soul answers Panros's call.
As the adventurers arrive at the house, the lovely scent of charred kobold still rises from the scorched corpse on the wizard's doorstep. The wizard's estate was an impressive abode, certainly. It likely rivaled the Baroness's home, and may have rivaled the Witch's Tower while it stood.There doesn't appear to be any means of calling the residents, however.
A single sign is erected, sitting upon an iron pole and set into the ground mere inches from the charred kobold's outstretched arm.
"No Solicitation."
To make matters worse, not a single soul answers Panros's call.
"Are...you...serious..." was all that the Dwarf managed to utter as there seemed no possible means towards summoning the dwelling's master.
"Knocking on the door's a fate sooner towards doom, and then..there's no telling what lays beyond.."
The dwarf's options were somewhat limited considering that there was no plausible way to get inside. Had it not been the promise of a large sum of gold, Panros wouldn't never sought such a horrible task. Though, one idea popped in his head.
"Hey Brok, ever wonder how the Dwarves were able to carve glorious sections within the 5 Kings Mountain? Well..thanks to this!". Removing a vial from his belt pouch, he shook its contents and tossed it towards the door while backing up 5ft.
The alchemical explosive impacts the door, resounding with an earth shattering thud. The door stands, but a massive scorch mark has stained its once-pristine coat of paint, cracking the wood in several places. A few more bombs would probably bring the door down.
But - no one comes to answer the call. From inside the manor home, that is.
"By the gods, man!"
Deputy Mulle came running down the hill from the ruins of the tower, barely able to stay on her feet. Her guard uniform was dirty, ragged, and wrinkled. The bags below her eyes told tales of a long night, though the unkempt hair poking out from her helmet said she probably managed to get some sleep - somewhere in there.
Practically falling over as she stopped, she looked at Panros, then at the door, then back at the dwarf.
"Are you "
"Are you blowing up Hunclay's home???"
he said quickly as he was faced with the deputy. "Mate's not answering his door, figured he had some protection ward or something. Maybe the explosion would rouse him. On official business for Lady Devy. Said something about needing to talk to him."
Placing his hands on his hips, he couldn't help but to notice how Mulle looked weary.
"Listen Lass, you're in no shape. You oughtta get some rest."
Mulle pulled her helmet off, letting her hair dangle out as she scratched her head.
"Last time I checked, talking did not include breaking and entering."
She collapsed onto the ground, resting her weary legs.
"The only reason I'm exhausted is because someone," as she shot a glare at Brok, "Never told Hodd to come take over!"