"Mr. Scarnetti its great to final meet you" And great to be away from that kid, he's living in this house and is acting like his whole life is nothing but misery Added Fulko mentally, a grin still plastered on his stubble filled face.
"You seem like the type of man who doesn't like to waste time, so I won't waste yours...you see the town hired my companions and myself to handle the recent goblin troubles, but amazingly enough the matter turned out to be much more than just a few rabid goblins with torches" The semi-civilized man paused a moment, his eyes fixing the older man with an obvious and unhidden studious gaze.
"And I thought, who better to help me than a man who's well connected, a man who clearly knows what he wants and has no intention of risking it because of goblins or whatever may be behind this attack...and then your name came up" Fulko rolled back his shoulder and shifted his neck from side to side, causing a soft cracking sound to be heard.
"But wouldn't it be better if we continued this inside? I've learned long ago that its best to keep these kinds of talks away from snooping ears and loose tongues, and there seems to be quite a bit of both in this town" The human armory crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the side of the door once more, his posture and expression giving off a surprising amount of confidence.
As Eostre and Ilya talk about shopping for potions, Nicat says, "That sounds like fun! I don't usually have the pocket change for that sort of thing."
** spoiler omitted **
"I imagine Riddleport's a charming place to live, then." Ameiko says, dryly.
"This robe's magic is clearly spent, but I can say with certainty that it was a robe of bones, a potent necromantic tool that allow you to pull skeletons literally out of your ass. Whoever used this had to have considerable wealth to make or purchase it...or are from out of town like me."
At Ameiko's quip, she smirks.
"If you're smart, tough and morally flexible, then it's paradise. If you're one of those things it's alright. If you're none of those things, it's terrifying."
"That sounds absolutely horrid. But it does explain some things that worried me. However, it just raises more questions at the same time..." Sylvia looks out the window, trying to puzzle this together, biting her lower lip in thought.
Necromancers, it would seem, but why leave their skeletal minions, and why would they take the Father's body and none others? It doesn't add up... Perhaps someone with a grudge against the Father? But he's been dead for some time now. Who could hold a grudge for so long? And why act now?
"A robe of bones, that explains much," Ekan agrees troubled. "Has anyone heard of any other strangers to the town with a good deal of coin?"
Titus sighs in what appears to be frustration. "It's always the same thing. The blighted Varisian stock around here believe that just because my father took a proactive role in clearing out the land for Sandpoint to be built, the Scarnettis are responsible for every single disaster and catastrophe this town has seen."
He looks you in the eye, unimpressed with your efforts at diplomacy. "I'll tell you the same thing I told the sheriff and his deputies: I had nothing to do with the attack on the town yesterday. I was at home the entire time, trying to get some bookkeeping done for the town's lumber mill. If you still doubt it, ask the Valdemars across the way." He points over your shoulder and back down the road.
"Now, are you going to leave, or will I have to ask my guards to escort you off the grounds?"
"Not that I know of... aside from Aldern Foxglove." Ameiko shrugs. "But I know he was in the town square the whole time; from what I've seen, the closest he ever got to the graveyard was the White Deer."
Fulko raises his arms in what appears to be a surrender "No need for that I just came because I thought you were a well connected man" Said Fulko As he stepped back from the door "I don't put much stock in rumors born in bars, I don't think you should either" Said Fulko before he turned around and began walk away "If you ever find yourself needing a bounty hunter, just send that agitated kid and tell him to ask the townspeople for Fulko" The warrior raised one hand and gave a single wave as he continued his trek towards Sandpoint.
"A robe of bones," Ilya nods. "That explains quite a bit. I think we can probably operate under the assumption that none of those skeletons were the late Father's. Most likely the Father's remains are now with the goblins and their rather taller cohort."
Ilya walks to the inn's door. "I'll be at Bottled Solutions for a while, if you have need of me. Anyone care to join?"
Sylvia just facepalms and rubs at her temples as Nicat relates their battle in the graveyard, especially highlighting her as the highpoint.
"Not that I know of... aside from Aldern Foxglove." Ameiko shrugs. "But I know he was in the town square the whole time; from what I've seen, the closest he ever got to the graveyard was the White Deer."
"No, I don't see Lord Foxglove as the type to have orchestrated something this elaborate, and then put his own life on the line. That would be a risky ruse, indeed," she says, tapping the shaft of her glaive in thought. "I would think that if anyone knew of any other strangers in town, it would be you, Ameiko, so that just leaves locals. Are there any locals with a grudge against the town, or more specifically Father Zantus and his practices?"
Nicat slips down off his bench and heads after Ilya, saying with a grin, "I'll join you. Not really in the market for any potions at the moment, but I don't want to miss any fun." His expression grows stern and he darts his eyes from side to side as he adds, "And I can keep an eye out for trouble, deputy-style, you know?"
Sylvia watches the two of them walk off, and shouts after them, "Ilya! Be sure to watch over Nicat, would you? The present one? And more specifically his tongue!"
She then turns to Ameiko, and her face reddens, "Also, if you don't mind, both Father Zantus and the sheriff asked us to keep this quiet. I'm not sure what they expected from Nicat when they said that, but if you could just, you know, not tell anyone, I would greatly appreciate it. I mean, by tomorrow, half the town will likely know regardless with Nicat on the loose, but still..."
"I'll go with. Planning on giving the robe to someone? Otherwise, I'll keep it. Maybe make a few alterations so it flatters my figure better."
She waits for an answer before heading after Nicat and Ilya.
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Ilya stands aside to allow Eostre to pass, then manages the sidestep to allow Nicat to bound out of the door.
Sylvia watches the two of them walk off, and shouts after them, "Ilya! Be sure to watch over Nicat, would you? The present one?"
Ilya's eyes follow Nicat as he half-skips, half-runs down the avenue. Suddenly, Ilya's gaze turns the other direction following the trail of things unseen. He shrugs as he steps outside. "Suit yourself," he responds to Sylvia. As the door closes behind him he calls back, "But, it's the future one that causes all the mischief!"
"I wonder if I should 'patrol' the town or some such, be on duty. I feel somewhat obligated now to the duties."
Hearing Sylvia's shout to Ilya, about watching out for him, and particularly his tonge, Nicat pauses in his progress down the street. He sticks out his tongue as far as he can and attempts to look at it, his eyes protruding as if they might extend on stalks any moment now. He shrugs and gives up, waving to Ilya and saying, "Come on, let's go! If you don't hurry, a future Ilya might get there before you do, and buy up the potions you want!"
Hearing Sylvia's shout to Ilya, about watching out for him, and particularly his tonge, Nicat pauses in his progress down the street. He sticks out his tongue as far as he can and attempts to look at it, his eyes protruding as if they might extend on stalks any moment now. He shrugs and gives up, waving to Ilya and saying, "Come on, let's go! If you don't hurry, a future Ilya might get there before you do, and buy up the potions you want!"
"You'd be surprised how often that happens!" Ilya begins rummaging through his pack. "I don't see any potions... I hope I won't have decided to have left them at the Inn. Of course, if I had, I should have decidedly less money, unless I wait to buy them in the then. But, since I haven't yet decided to have done that, I suspect that I will have purchased them in the before."
"You may be surprised by how temporally linear money is..."
Eostre's face scrunches up at Ilya's words.
"It's frustrating to hear you talk, Ilya. Pick a tense and stick to it!"
Eostre's face scrunches up at Ilya's words.
"It's frustrating to hear you talk, Ilya. Pick a tense and stick to it!"
Ilya blinks in mild confusion. "You're not the first to say that. How do you explain things that have already happened, but merely have yet to occur?"
It's a busy afternoon as Ilya, Nicat & Eostre walk through Sandpoint's streets to Bottled Solutions. Nicat almost gets into trouble on two separate occasions--once from a farmer's wagon and once from a pair of grumpy dogs who were looking for a snack--but everyone makes it to Bottled Solutions without much trouble.
The front room of the shop is a cluttered mess: potion bottles of all sorts can be seen lining shelves in no particular order. Tanglefoot bags and flasks of alchemist's fire are packed closely together on another shelf, and a faint whiff of acid is in the air.
Nicat mutters to himself as he looks back over his shoulder at the grumpy farmer, "What's he thinking, parking his wagon right there? Doesn't he see people need to walk there? And what if goblins attacked again, they could hide behind it! And him calling me a pipsqueak when I'm a deputy sheriff! Imagine!"
He turns his attention forward again just as they come to Bottled Solutions, and his indignant muttering stops instantly as he peers through the door. "Whooooah" he says, as he walks in, "I've walked by here a bunch, but never been inside. Look at all this stuff!" Unsurprisingly, the demeanor one would normally associate with such a dedicated deputy sheriff seems to have vanished, and he begins to move about the shop like a kitten chasing dust motes in a beam of light. He stops, however, at a low table full of bottles that contain liquids of a vast array of colors. His hand extends as if of its own will, hovers over the collection for a long moment, then descends and snatches up one of an iridescent violet color. He holds it up admiringly, then pulls out the stopper and holds it under his nose, inhaling deeply.
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Ilya blinks in mild confusion. "You're not the first to say that. How do you explain things that have already happened, but merely have yet to occur?"Eostre's face scrunches up at Ilya's words.
"It's frustrating to hear you talk, Ilya. Pick a tense and stick to it!"
"If something has yet to occur, then it HASN'T already happened! You're not making any sense!"
When they enter Bottled Solutions, Eostre blanches a bit.
"Eugh! The way everything's scattered about is appalling!"
And when Nicat starts "examining" the concoctions, she starts towards him.
"For the love of the great holy donkey, put that down! You don't know what it is!"
While the journey back had been long, tedious and appeared to be fruitless, Fulko was still in good spirits, which increased exponentially once he stood in front of the wooden doors of the Rusty Dragon. The door opened with a soft creek and Fulko stepped inside, giving a wave to any who greeted him, giving them all a genuine jovial expression. Finding an empty stool at the bar proved to be easy enough as it didn't seem like the busy time of the day for the inn, he sat down and rolled his shoulders back to relax himself.
"Anything interesting happened while I was away, Ameiko?" He asked their host, placing both of his forearms on the tab and leaning in slightly.
"If something has yet to occur, then it HASN'T already happened! You're not making any sense!"Ilya blinks in mild confusion. "You're not the first to say that. How do you explain things that have already happened, but merely have yet to occur?"Eostre's face scrunches up at Ilya's words.
"It's frustrating to hear you talk, Ilya. Pick a tense and stick to it!"
"Really?" Ilya laughs lightly. "A moment ago you said I wasn't making any 'tense'!"
"How quaint!" Ilya says as he walks in. "I wonder where the proprietor has gone. Hello?" Ilya walks along the jumbled and disorganized aisles plucking bottles and vials from the shelves.
"For the love of the great holy donkey, put that down! You don't know what it is!"
"True," Ilya holds the vial up to his eye. "But, these are the one's I remember having already bought. So, I feel certain it's the one I wanted..."
Nicat turns his head at Eostre's exclamation, saying, "I know I don't know what it is, that's why I'm smelling it. Do you think tasting it would be a bad idea?"
He selects another one, of a deep, translucent blue and holds the vials up side by side, even crossing one in front of the other in the light of the front window, as if wondering what color they'd make if he mixed them together...
"For the love of the great holy donkey, put that down! You don't know what it is!"
Sylvia sits quietly in the mostly empty common room of the Rusty Dragon, smiling at Fulko when he comes in and walks to the bar. She continues to contemplate the teachings of the Great Holy Donkey and why others are so enamored with the newly founded deity.
These people are stubborn as mules, and are just making asses of themselves!
The racket the team makes draws attention from deeper within the shop.
"Eh? Who's there--OOPS!"
A loud *BANG* echoes from a room behind the counter. A couple of seconds later, a half-elf with blown-back brown hair and a face covered in ash appears behind the counter. He's wearing an apron and plain clothes stained with sweat.
"Oh! Customers! Welcome to Bottled Solutions! Don't mind the clutter and noise: I'm busy perfecting my latest creation!" He says in a joyful voice.
"Nothing much. The mages ran off to get potions--" Ameiko is cut off by the sound of the Rusty Dragon's door opening again.
In walks Aldern Foxglove, looking around. "Excuse me--is Miss Jahlyn here?" There appears to be something in his hand... it looks like a few tickets.
"Ah Foxglove, yes? Welcome" Greeted Fulko with a grin that seemed a bit mischievous "Run to the back door Sylvia, I'll hold him as best as I can" A laugh erupted from the bounty hunter as he slapped his hand against the bar tab, causing some of the glasses to jingle.
Nicat turns his head at Eostre's exclamation, saying, "I know I don't know what it is, that's why I'm smelling it. Do you think tasting it would be a bad idea?"
He selects another one, of a deep, translucent blue and holds the vials up side by side, even crossing one in front of the other in the light of the front window, as if wondering what color they'd make if he mixed them together...
Eostre looks at Nicat with an exasperated look on her face.
"...YES! Don't taste things if you don't know what they are! It could be sodding toxic! What are you, twenty years old?!"
She jumps at the loud bang and rolls her eyes at the proprietor.
"Can this creation offset your lack of professionalism?"
"...YES! Don't taste things if you don't know what they are!"
"Be calm, Eostre," Ilya placates. "Just a sip won't hurt him."
She jumps at the loud bang and rolls her eyes at the proprietor.
"Can this creation offset your lack of professionalism?"
Ilya watches as the others jump at the noise. "I would also like to know about this marvelous creation."
"Just a sip won't hurt him."
Nicat smiles at Ilya's words and says, "Now that's a philosophy I can get behind!" He's just about to take a sip from both of the opened vials at once when the great bang startles him. He nearly drops both bottles, saving them from breaking only through some inspired juggling and the virtue of being himself rather low to the ground.
Once he's got them under control, he looks up at the proprietor and asks, "Yeah, what's this creation you're perfecting?"
The alchemist grins wildly. "Why, I'm glad you asked! I'm currently working on increasing the explosive output of a thunderstone through removal of chemical impurities in its makeup!"
He scratches his head. A trickle of ashes falls out of his hair as he does so. "Although, that last batch didn't turn out the way I hoped... perhaps if I used a pinch less potassium chlorate..."
He straightens up. "Oh, but I forget myself! Nisk Tander, potion provider and alchemical academician! How may I serve you today?"
Aldern scratches his head. "Er... I'm not certain what you're implying, I just wished to see if Miss Jahlyn was available for tonight. I have some tickets to the play here in town... what was it?"
He briefly glances at the three tickets in his hand. "The Harpy's Curse. Of course, it just slipped my mind briefly." He's blushing as he glances between Fulko & Sylvia.
He steps past Fulko and approaches her. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again before long--see, I won a few tickets from Mr. Drokkus regarding that play of his. It's showing at the Sandpoint Theatre tonight..." He's starting to fumble for words, nervously smiling at Sylvia.
The alchemist grins wildly. "Why, I'm glad you asked! I'm currently working on increasing the explosive output of a thunderstone through removal of chemical impurities in its makeup!"
He scratches his head. A trickle of ashes falls out of his hair as he does so. "Although, that last batch didn't turn out the way I hoped... perhaps if I used a pinch less potassium chlorate..."
He straightens up. "Oh, but I forget myself! Nisk Tander, potion provider and alchemical academician! How may I serve you today?"
"I'm just tagging along with these two mooncalves. And shaking my head at how you can run a business or make serious academic advances in a mess like this."
Once he notices the number of tickets Fulko's smile widens. He gets up from the stool walks towards Aldern, puts his large arm around the thinner man's shoulders and pulls him closer "Well if your going to a play, I'd imagine it would be pretty crowded, and seeing how your a rich nobleman and all, I am sure you'd like to have someone to watch your back" Fulko leans in a little closer "especially after that goblin mess" His arm releases Foxglove and he points at himself with his thumb.
"You see bounty hunters and bodyguards are fighting men who have a keen eye for trouble, and all my life I've found trouble without fail" Fulko's smile widen further, before he releases a roar of laughter.
Sylvia smiles genuinely, and nods, "Of course. I would love to see this play. I haven't been to a play in ages!"
Ekan has been patrolling the streets, making mostly a circular path between the Rusty Dragon and the alchemist shop. It seems the best way to keep somewhat available to them, while still doing some good in his new found duty. Some of the locals look at him curiously when they see his pattern, but then, they've likely seen him do seemingly odd things in his training before so this may not be much of a shock.
Aldern's face lights up. "Really? Perfect!"
He gives Sylvia one ticket and after hearing Fulko's offer, hands the second one to him. "The show starts this evening. How about we come back to the Dragon after the show for dinner?"
"I'm just tagging along with these two mooncalves. And shaking my head at how you can run a business or make serious academic advances in a mess like this."
Nisk wipes his hands on his apron. "Oh, it's easier than it looks, I assure you!"
He turns to Ilya & Nicat, stepping up to the counter. He notices the two bottles in Nicat's hands, his face suddenly adopting an annoyed look. "Excuse me, young man, I would appreciate it if you didn't manhandle my concoctions. Some of them are quite volatile!" His blasted-back hair and ash-covered face lend some credence to his claim.
Nicat's eyes open wide and he eyeballs flick from side to side, as if looking for some other 'young man' than Nisk might be addressing. He then shrugs and says, "Uh, right, here you go," and hands the two bottles to the man. "I'm just browsing, really, but my friends here know all kinds of stuff about magic. I bet they'd understand what you're doing in the back room, blowing stuff up and all."
"I'm a transmuter, Nicat. I'm better at changing things into other things than I am at blowing them up! You want pyrotechnics, you get an evoker. Bloody small-minded hobbyists, the lot of them," she mutters.
She turns her attention to the proprietor.
"I assume you have healing tinctures available? Or would we need to visit the Cathedral for those?"
The alchemist grins wildly. "Why, I'm glad you asked! I'm currently working on increasing the explosive output of a thunderstone through removal of chemical impurities in its makeup!"
He scratches his head. A trickle of ashes falls out of his hair as he does so. "Although, that last batch didn't turn out the way I hoped... perhaps if I used a pinch less potassium chlorate..."
He straightens up. "Oh, but I forget myself! Nisk Tander, potion provider and alchemical academician! How may I serve you today?"
"A pleasure, of course." Ilya bows slightly. "My name is Ilya. This is Nicat. And this cheerful lady is Eostre. I suspect you must have already known we were coming, because thunderstones are exactly what we came for!"
"May I take a look at your work? I have some knowledge of magical apparatus, and would be delighted to offer some insight."
"I would also be interested in any other alchemical items you have for sale. Potions, oils, alchemical fire, curatives..."
Nisk glares at Ilya when he asks to look at his work. "No."
With regards to making a sale, his mood swings back in the other direction immediately. "Ah! Of course! I have tanglefoot bags, thunderstones, alchemist's fire, antitoxins, healing supplies, anything you need!"
After another patrol, Ekan returns to the Rusty Dragon just in time to see tickets handed out, he raises an eyebrow curiously.
Nisk glares at Ilya when he asks to look at his work. "No."
With regards to making a sale, his mood swings back in the other direction immediately. "Ah! Of course! I have tanglefoot bags, thunderstones, alchemist's fire, antitoxins, healing supplies, anything you need!"
"What'sa matter? 'Fraid we'll steal your ideas?"
Nisk glares at Ilya when he asks to look at his work. "No."
With regards to making a sale, his mood swings back in the other direction immediately. "Ah! Of course! I have tanglefoot bags, thunderstones, alchemist's fire, antitoxins, healing supplies, anything you need!"
"Oh," Ilya looks slightly crestfallen at the bold refusal. "As you like..." Ilya walks along the aisles pulling a single vial of alchemist's fire from amongst the miscellany. "This is all, for now."
"What'sa matter? 'Fraid we'll steal your ideas?"
"Hardly. The last time I sold one of my creations before I finished it, it backfired horrendously! And of COURSE it had to be Cyrus Scarnetti who bought it--nearly ruined my business!" Nisk folds his arms across his chest. He doesn't appear to be inclined to change his mind.
The flask of alchemist's fire Ilya brings to the counter brightens Nisk's mood. "Ah, always a pleasure, sir! Thank you muchly for your custom!" He scoops up Ilya's money with enthusiasm.
Upon closer inspection, you notice the liquid in the flask is... well, it's green.
You're not entirely sure alchemist's fire is supposed to be green.