Serra bows knightily to Irabeth.
"Serra Iondri Phaer of the Andoran House of Delys at your service," Serra says, making formal, and sucking in his gut, trying to make himself presentable.
Irabeth nods gravely at Serra's presentation. "Phaer. Phaer? Where have I heard that name?? She smiles, waving off her mild thought drift.
"Welcome Serra Phaer of Andoran. You may yet rue that offer, but as I told your friend here, we are in no position to turn down good men. I'll accept your service gladly."
Letting Irabeth tend to the duties of leadership, Serra takes his leave until summoned. He will begin by looking about the Defender's Heart.
You're hungry, aren't you?
No. I just ate.
You're hungry, aren't you?
No. I just ate.
You're hungry, aren't you?
No. Go away.
Serra cinches his belt tighter, resolving not to consume more of their supplies...yet.
Serra looks over at Kastor and smiles.
Such a good lad, probably giving directions or helping someone. There is no doubt.
Serra moves closer, trying to see to whom Kastor speaks.
After introductions Grasker will ask Irabeth about other survivors.
"Hello Irabeth - it is happy to find you alive after we had an unpleasant encounter at Anevia's old house. Do you know who is in charge of the guard here? I'm looking for my younger brother Gulur."
Before the Abaddosians lug off Horgus, Grasker will tell them about the shrine (which must have been small if it fit in a safe) and coordinate getting it to them. He'll offer to assist if they need help.
"Please let me know if there will be a funeral for him. I understand he was an important citizen, and his death so near safety was a tradgedy felt by all of us who travelled together."
"We are in no position to turn down good men."
"Eli is not only good, he's great with that hammer of his! And his hands give the best blessings, well, at least as good as Grasker's, thank the Empyreal Lords!" He nods profuciously. Yep, definitely profuciously.
"And Ser Serrra here is being modest, as he's a knight! Definitely a good man to have around, 'cause I don't always know how to be knightly, at least not in a human sense. Oh yes, he's got an invisible squire! How cool is that!" So cool a pixie might even stop and check him out!
"Cole is an archer with Elf-like precision. Definitely a good man." A quiet man, but a good man none-the-less!
"Oh! And I'm Beagan! Sir Beagan after Serra knighted me on the field of battle, or so I'm told! Sent by the Big R' along with Xanthos here to do whatever I can which, being a Gnome, isn't always that much, although I did run my sword pretty wickedly through the magicked armor of that last Orc-blooded fiend we fought!"
His eruption stops only for a moment. "Ummm, when you say you don't turn down good men, does that include talkative Gnomes who are Elf-kin and sent by their God to do Paladin stuff to the best of their abilites? I'm good at making saddles, and harnesses, and leathers, and, oh, yeah, at painting, too!" He strips his bracer off, displaying the vibrant ink of Ragathiel's firey wing and sword.
The matching runic R's on his head and Xanthos' glow a bit brighter as he traces the symbol of his Lord painted on his forearm.
Xanthos harrumphs.
Cole listens as the party pledges their swords to the guard gathered here. Quick to give their loyalty. He remains silent on the matter. But he does have needs he'd fulfill here.
"Lord Tirablade, we do have some gear we'd like to trade - assuming there are no proper shops around. Still, we have need of weaponry and food if nothing else, and we have things that you may want as well. Is there someone we should talk to about that?"
"Also, my father. He's crippled, though not an invalid, and needs some help. Is this an appropriate place for that or is this only for active duty military?"
"....Do you know who is in charge of the guard here? I'm looking for my younger brother Gulur."
Irabeth's face sobers at the question, and a mutter goes through the crowd.
"I'm afraid most of the regular guard didn't make it, Grasker, but, like you and your companions, people do keep dribbling in. The Eagle Watch has taken over in their stead, so I suppose the person in charge would be me, at least until we get the situation stabilized. Your brother's name doesn't ring a bell for me, but there are many in the infirmary that have not been identified.
It is possible he is there."
Irabeth's eyes flare slightly as the gnome talks of invisible squires, but she handles it well enough. Many have been rattled by the recent events; the infirmary is full of the addleminded.
"Uhh, thank you, Sir Bea..." She stops, though as he mmentions an 'another' Orcan fiend.
Her eyes seek confirmation from the others, from Anevia and the others. Seeing their serious confirmation, she nods slowly. "Yes, well, perhaps after you have all eaten and been settled with suitable bunks, we can discuss this fiend, and the rest of your journeys. Would you ahhh, like a suitable place for your uhhh..." Her head tips first one way, then the other before she settles on the diplomatic word, "mount... be more comfortable in the stabling? He is small enough, I suppose you could keep him close, but it is very crowded and noisy in the halls."
link to a basic map of Defender's Heart
Serra smiles at Kastor and returns the salute.
"Oh sure, Kastor. Next time, I would like an introduction," Serra says, looking at the youth up and down. He reminds me of m'Dad.
"Looks like we're going to be here for a while. If you want, you can go find your own to play with. Just don't go outside and stay out of trouble, okay? And find me tonight, won't you? You're a good squire and you deserve some of your own time." Serra shoos the squire away.
* * *
Serra goes to find Grasker.
"Grasker, do you need help in finding your brother? This place seems larger on the inside, don't it? We'll try the barracks and the infirmary? Two heads will look better than one, right?" If Grasker agrees, Serra will follow Grasker to wherever to find his brother.
asks about practical things, and a place for his father.
"Some of the merchants have set up shops, such as they are, within The Heart. They have the basics and will be glad to see anyone that has goods to trade. As far as we know, this is *The* place for whoever and whatever might have survived."
She lets that sink in as she addresses the elder Zeff. "I'm sure we can find suitable arrangements for you, Master Zeff, though they may be of a fairly humble nature. If you have need of a healer, we can have one sent for, or if you would like, we can move to the infirmary now. Elsewise, Dierdre will be meeting with each of you in turn to evaluate needs and possible skills that might be put to use."
"Captain, I would like to move to the infirmary, too, if you'll allow. I still have some healing energy left today, and can practice my healing and herbalism if there be resources enough." Eli speaks with mild deference, but it is clear that he'll find the infirmary, one way or another.
Grasker's face freezes when he hears the sad news about the city watch. His younger brother was probably spared instant destruction near wardstone by rebelling against their religious upbringing. And then went on to get himself killed defending citizens from the demon hordes like some kind of hero. If only he had taken up a safe profession, like joining the pathfinders in distant Absalom, he might have survived.
Grasker doesn't have much more to say to add until Beagan's summary of the group, when this random half orc talks of putting one of their number in the stables.
Softly, he suggests "Xanthos should stay quartered with us I think. He has earned it beyond any doubt." Grasker holds his hand out to pet the magical bunny wolf creature, then pauses. "Sir Beagan, may I?"
If the gnomes approval Grasker will take off his glove and run his hand once through the divine creature's fur.
Getting himself back in order, he is surprised by Serra's offer to help search, after their strained conversation about the property of Horgus.
He tugs his gloves back on and lets the act of kindness show the knight in a better light. Grasker agrees and speaks obliquely of his thoughts. "Thank you Sir Serra. Working together our different perspectives can allow us to see many things that one point of view might miss."
After describing how Gulur looks similar to himself, Grasker will rely on his experience seeking clues and gleaning information people might not realize they posses about cultists and use it to learn of news about his family. A less distracted man would find it surprising how easy the skills transfer really, from finding the guilty to the innocent.
Cole sees to his fathers billeting and asks him if he needs anything in particular while he rests. Then Cole will head over to the 'Heart' to see what he can scrounge before taking his own rest.
"Captain, I would like to move to the infirmary, too...."
"If you wish, Ely. I'm sure the twins will be grateful for whatever help you might offer. It sounds as if most of you favor a trip to the infirmary before ought else?" she asks, then looks past them as the large doors open before a small gnome.
"Ahh, here she is now. Deirdre will help you in that regard, though I doubt she'll allow all of you at once." Irabeth nods to the virbrantly hair gnome that joins them, a small board and pen set up in hand.
Serra helps Grasker look for his brother, as he does, he begins to get the layout of the Defender's Heart.
Irabeth makes the introductions and assures the group that she and Anevia will meet you again that evening. The vibrantly red haired gnome waits nearly patiently until the Captain retires before addressing the companions.
"Right then. Let me make sure I have your names down correctly. There is Grasker...Grask... I'm sorry, I don't seem to have your last name. Could you spell that,please? Thank you. And then there is Cole and Maurice Zeff. Oh that's nice. It's good to have family. Where was I? Oh yes... Serra...err, Ser Serra Phaer of Andoran, is it? A number of the Eagle Watch are from Andoran. Perhaps you know some of them? Yes? No? We'll have to see, won't we... and Ely Myoch. Are you from Andoran as well? No? Yes, No, there's not really any kindred features, are there? Maybe the chins. It's hard to say.
Wait. I've missed someone, who have I...oooo. Oh. Oh hello there! Yes, I see. All the tall folk were in front and I didn't quite catch your... and Who is your FRIEND?"
She taps her quill as she talks, first slowly as she getting the names down, the speeding up faster and faster at the sight of the battle bunny and its companion.
Serra waits for Deidre to get a move on so he can help Grasker find his brother, explore, and get settled.
Deirdre, in her high efficiency fashion, leads them across the current hall to a door beneath the stairs. It is only at the last that the reality of the "roof" of the hall of the hall becomes apparent. Though it looked like stone, a subtle ripple gives it away for the loomed material that it is.
They pass through a small antechamber and into the infirmary. Lined with cots, these appear to be the worst of the still living injured.
"Master Myoch, Byrne and/or Byrgit will meet with you momentarily. " She nodded at the two individuals at the end of the room, their heads close together in quiet conversation. Nearby, a man ravaged of his face and hands awaited their verdict, his breath coming from the gaping wound in his throat rather than from any nose or mouth he might once have had.
"Master Zeff," she says, turning to Cole's father, "While I am certain you need care, I do not think this level of care is necessary, do you?" At the shake of the old man's head, she grins. "Good. We can see to a space in the courthall for you, at least for now."
Finally, she turns to Grasker and his impatient friend. Her voice is gentle as she asks, "Do you see him? These are the worst of the current patients. Some have physical wounds, others mental. But none of these have we been able to get entered into the Inn's Book."
Serra looks at Grasker, happy to follow and help as needed.
Eli strains to hear the two individuals talking, and what conclusions they may be discussing.
Eli approaches the ravaged man, and leans over him, observing him and his wounds, getting close enough to sense if the wounds have acquired the smell. He studies the throat wound, looking for tinges of black. Lenore, what would you do here, I wonder?
Eli has trouble overhearing what the healers might be discussing, though body language implies it's about their patient.
The wounds do smell, of rot and disease, though a closer look shows the throat wound to be well tended and healthy. The missing face, though, that is a problem. Wounds where his nose, mouth, and one eye would be fester, though there are signs of healing and re-healing along the edges.
Eli grimaces as he slowly understands how savage the injuries are. You poor poor soul. He puts on a smile, trying to look past the wounds, to see the man beneath.
White eyes search for the priest of Iomedae. "Grasker, when you have a moment. These wounds appear to be a much more serious case compared to the wounds we healed on the halfling, from that demon claw. There is disease here, yes, but more stubborn still, there is that kind of demon rot that holds on in spite of the healing energies. It feels like it needs more." Eli looks up, unsure that he was successful in gaining Grasker's attention, but content with his assessment, nonetheless.
Serra watches Grasker and Ely talk, listening and learning.
This is the tough part of being a knight...realizing that someday I might be in one of these beds relying on the kindness of others.
Serra looks around to lecture and instruct his squire, but remembers that his squire is elsewhere and playing. There will be time for instruction later.
The healers turn in unison at the sound of Eli so close. "Pray, Sir, our patients are very ill. Soft voices are better, and... how may we help you?"
Byrgit and Berne, for surely that is who they must be, seem mirror copies of the other, except that one appears somewhat more male and the other somewhat more feminine. Even their voices fall somewhere midrange, neither too high, nor too low.
Eli startles to hear a reply in an unfamiliar voice. He takes in the duo, and nods his understanding about volume in proximity to the ill. Eli lowers his voice to match their own. "Yes. I should have been more quiet. It's only that I was overcome to help, and I find that I cannot. These are wounds beyond my ability, I'm afraid." Eli stands and extends his hand, but retracts it, not wanting to pass any of the dirt on his hands to theirs.
"I have some time to pass during my stay in Defender's Heart, and can think of no better way than tending to the wounded. I can bring a magical weave for healing, as well as help to mix herbs and pastes to heal more naturally. Can I be of help to you?"
"He is a younger man, Sir Serra, with brown hair, the clean shaven face of a city watch guardsman."
Grasker approaches the sick ward, and calls out for his brother.
A man with no face? What could cause such a thing...
"Gulur? Are you here?"
"Wait. I've missed someone, who have I...oooo. Oh. Oh hello there! Yes, I see. All the tall folk were in front and I didn't quite catch your... and Who is your FRIEND?"
Beagan is uncharacteristically speechless as the authoritative red-head comes and takes roll. After several awkward moments of staring, Xanthos nudges his partner.
"Um... Beagan... Beagan Berelcar. Of Kyonin."
He blinks a few times before his furry friend nudges him again.
"And Xanthos."
It takes him a moment to gather himself, and then stammer out. "I-I-I'd better take him for... umm... exercise..." He doffs his bright red beret, "Ma'am", and quickly, nervously leads his mount away.
Xanthos rolls his eyes - and then his ears - in semi-derision.
The little knight slowly regains his wits and watches from afar as the attractive Gnome lead Grasker and more on a search for his brother.
After "exercising" his mount, he starts his own watch of the main entry, ready to ask any who might enter and look like Grasker if their name is Gulur.
"...Can I be of help to you?"
"Your help would be great appreciated. There are many in the Defender's Heart in need; not just these poor souls. I will take you to them, if you wish." Berne offers, noting another door that leads out of the ward.
***
The wounds are horrifying on the man with no face, and any cure feels far beyond Grasker's capabilities just now. He cries out his brother's name. None answer, though both the man missing his face and the gray haired man start at Grasker's call.
Serra, none seem to match Grasker's description, for all those patients present look too aged and haggard to be considered young. Closer inspection on one or two, though, implies that some of that aging may be mileage, not years.
Serra looks at Graster and shakes his head.
"I don't see him, Grasker. That's probably as good as it is bad, I should think. He's likely among those guarding the hall or holed up in the City. Where did you want to look next?"
Serra looks to Grasker to lead if wants more help...but his eyes note recognition in a few patients.
"However, looks like this one and that one recognize the name. Can either of you help us?"
Eli smiles in approval, as Berne offers. "Yes, please. Take me to them." He turns to the cleric, patting him on the arm.
"I hope you find who you're looking for, Grasker." Eli moves towards the door leading out of the ward, and waits for Berne's escort.
Grasker will approach the Byrgit and her doppleganger Berne, and speak to them in a lowered voice still loud enough to be heard if any wounded wished to do so out of boredom or curiosity.
"Good healers, I am looking for my younger brother, Gulur Krydd of the City Watch. Early 20s, brown hair. Have you heard if he has come through?"
If no one here knows of him Grasker offers his assistance as a cleric of Iomadae.
"I can come after my search if you would like assistance in tending to the wounded. I lack supplies of the healing art though am trained in their use."
"My name is Grasker by the way, and this is my traveling companion Sir Serra, a knight from the Andoran lands."
Grasker pauses for a long moment, wondering how to continue. "And.. he has a young squire other children enjoying playing with. If you have such perhaps they would like a visit."
Since Eli is by the man without a face Grasker would approach that fellow first, before checking the bushy bearded brethren of the bed.
"Blinded man, how did you come by this terrible demon wound?"
At some point after hearing his response, Grasker will ask "You heard I seek news of my family. Have you heard of Gulur? Is there anyone who we should tell of your location?"
As Grasker approaches the man with the horrible wounds, he realizes that there is no way the man could answer with anything more than the moan that hisses through the wound in his throat. At least with words. He points, though with no sight, he could be pointing at pretty much anything and anyone. The man with the gray hair coughs, then whispers.
"The young man you knew is dead, Grasker. Let it go."
Grasker turns from the horrid wounds to look at this other person, with a face out of a family portrait. He casts Detect Magic to quickly search for transmutation effects, and looks signs of unnatural ghost touched aging.
"Tell me, old man, what happened to my brother, and I will leave you alone. What became of the young, impulsive person that left his cleric training for the city watch? Did the champion of the common man die in a great battle? He was beloved on his route by orphans and maidens, perhaps he perished leading them to Defender's Heart. Or like so many good people did he simply vanish under the waves of demonkind?
"What would a defeated old man, staring at a wall, know of Gulur?"
"Go. Go.Leave me be." The poor old man bats feebly at Grasker's interrogation, turning away from his gaze. "Let me die."
At this, the man with no face moans all the louder, a sound both heart wrenching and bone chilling.
Byrgit too waves him away. "You're upsetting him. Perhaps some rest would do you good? I will look for your brother. Family is... important."
Grasker will move on and see what else if in the compound.
Serra waits to see if Grasker needs something else before moving on.
Byrgit ushers the others back out with Deirdre, encouraging Grasker to come back another. "But gently. These patients barely cling to the world about them. Too much agitation could loosen their hold completely."
Deirdre leads the group back to the Courtyard Hall where temporary housing has been set up. Again, she turns directly to Maurice to discuss his situation, though she does not discount Cole's concerns.
"Master Zeff, there is a cot and chest that you may use for now, if this will work for you? There are no stairs between here and the Merchants spaces, the Mess Hall, and the bar, so it will be somewhat easier to traverse. One of the triplets will check in with you daily, should you need their help."
"There are no stairs between here and the Merchants spaces, the Mess Hall, and the bar, so it will be somewhat easier to traverse."
Serra's ears perk up at mention of the Merchant's spaces. Serra looks this way and that.
"Are the Merchant's spaces this way?" Serra begins to walk waddle in the direction she indicated.
Serra will explore the Merchant's area, looking for arms and armor, and curatives, then magics (alchemical and wondrous).
"What sorts of things might we buy?"
Grasker wonders if he was confused about the old man being his supernaturally aged brother.
As they leave he says to the knight, "I thought he was my brother aged from ghostly touch, and would come back to the world if reminded of life just a few days back. He didn't particularly like our family's religious tradition so I expected something.. some hostility. I guess I was wrong."
"Though who can say what can happen, in a demon haunted world. Maybe he is my old grand father, brought back to life, or a confused simulacrum from bygone ages. Or even a cultist disguise that looked coincidentally familiar."
Grasker will wander around after Serra, keeping Detect Evil via concentration at 30 minute intervals.
"I think you should be able to find most common things for purchase, gear and supplies. Weapons, alchemical items, armor."
She takes them into the Merchants Hall, and introduces them first to Kimroth Otai, the actual owner of Defender's Heart. "He still runs the mess and bar areas, but has turned over most other things to the Eagle's Watch. Irabeth is in charge of them, so I suppose that makes her in charge of the place."
"We divided the area up to provide the merchants with a semblance of normalcy. You'll find Amber Darkglove in the first shop, Rory Hegglestrong in the second, and Darian Ozyrm in the third. They will be more than fair with you, I'm sure. Word of your arrival is sure to have traveled much more quickly than we did."
Serra walks around the shops to see what they sell.
The woman behind the counter in the first shop looks up, her face hopeful as the group enters. Silver streaks her dark brown hair lightly, a full lock of it framing her otherwise rather ordinary face. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she greets them. "Welcome to Amber's Alchemicals, such as it is. How may I help you today?" Behind her, vials and jars line the shelf, and if there isn't quite the selection that one might find prior to The Fall, it isn't for want of effort.
Cole looks through the shops and greets Amber. "I'm Cole. I was wondering, does anyone around here deal in magic? We have a few items to trade, and have a desperate need for wand of Cure Light Wounds. Would you have something like that by chance?"
He idly fingers an alchemy flask (presuming one is there) and considers adding to his collection. "Oh, do you have any sunrods here? I might pick up one or two of those as well if you've got 'em."
If she does not, Cole tries the so-called mundane gear place next, and finally the weapons shop. He makes the best trade he can with the gear the party is trying to sell.
Serra follows Cole into the shop, quietly looking with his hands behind his back (lest he be tempted to touch, break, then have to buy).
He makes a mental list of things of interest (alchemist fires? holy waters? potions of heroism?).
"This is a fine inventory; where does it all come from?"