"Ah. Nobles. They're nasty that way. Nevermind, then. Just curious."
She frowns at the "alchemist's fire" Ilya has just purchased.
"Torag's bloody beard, how do you manage to make alchemist's fire GREEN?!"
"Oh?" Nisk takes a closer look at the flask he just gave Ilya.
He shrugs. "Eh, it's probably fine. It'll still burn things, I'm sure--they'll just burn green."
"They'll burn green?" asks Nicat excitedly. "Ilya, let's go try that out! Unless you already did...would you remember that?", the eager halfling trails off, confusion evident in his eyes.
"Great. Now there'll be no living with them after this!" Eostre comments with a roll of the eyes.
Fulko turns from Aldern and Sylvia and looks at his ticket with glee Guess I'll be seeing the play after all Tucking the paper into his pocket he then walks to his stool and sits down "I think the lad is trying too hard, what do you think Ameiko?" The bounty hunter whispered his question to their host, the mischievous grin he had on before making a quick come back.
Fulko turns from Aldern and Sylvia and looks at his ticket with glee Guess I'll be seeing the play after all Tucking the paper into his pocket he then walks to his stool and sits down "I think the lad is trying too hard, what do you think Ameiko?" The bounty hunter whispered his question to their host, the mischievous grin he had on before making a quick come back.
"Who's trying too hard, if I may ask? I just got back from a 'patrol' I suppose so I missed a lot" Ekan inquires, and turns to Ameiko, "Ameiko, can I have some juice or water to drink?"
"Hmm. I don't think I have anything to wear, I'm afraid. I'll need to find something in town suitable for such an event," she sighs, tapping the tabletop. "I wonder if they're still open this late..."
"Sure thing." Ameiko ducks behind the bar and returns with a cup & pitcher of water. After filling the cup, she slides it over to the monk.
Ameiko shrugs in response to Fulko's jibe. "Maybe, maybe not. Some women like the direct approach."
"If you want some good clothes for your date, you can try Vernah's Fine Clothing." Ameiko looks out the window. The sun is beginning to dip in the sky; you'd guess it's about 4:00 PM. "It shouldn't take you that long--it's behind the Dragon. Just cut through the alley and you'll get there in no time."
Soon enough, not long after Ameiko finishes, the potion group comes back from their shopping trip.
Nicat skips into the Dragon, excited to see that his friends have returned from their various errands, "Hey gang, what's going on? We went shopping and nearly got blown up! It turns out Eostre has some opinions on what color alchemist's fire should be. And on evokers, too. Oh, and nobles. Not what color they should be, of course." After an instant of what might be called thought, at least in another halfling, he turns to Eostre, "Wait, do you care what color evokers and nobles are?"
"No." Eostre replies curtly.
"Only reason this fool nearly got blown up was because he decided picking up and almost sampling unknown substances was simply a fantastic idea. I was personally unimpressed by that so-called "alchemist's" store. It was disorganized and crude and unprofessional. And I still don't know how in Hell you manage to make alchemist's fire sodding GREEN of all things! What an incredible waste of time! And money!"
Nicat shrugs, a self-deprecating smile across his face, and says, "See? You need an opinion on somethin', Eostre's your gal. Now, I didn't say I nearly got blown up, and it wasn't because of anything I did either. Nisk was making things that are supposed to explode, I suppose, but one exploded when it wasn't supposed to explode...am I starting to sound like Ilya?"
Ekan thanks Ameiko for the drink, and then looks at Sylvia with a smile, "I think the fellow would believe you look good in anything, Sylvia. It sounds like he's quite impressed already."
Hearing Nicat and Eostre fill them in on the potion store, Ekan says to Nicat, "I'm just glad you're all alright then. My own time has been rather uneventful. I wandered the streets a bit, but didn't see any crimes or anyone in need of help. Fulko, Ameiko or Sylvia could fill you in more on what happened here while I was out."
"See? You need an opinion on somethin', Eostre's your gal. Now, I didn't say I nearly got blown up, and it wasn't because of anything I did either. Nisk was making things that are supposed to explode, I suppose, but one exploded when it wasn't supposed to explode..."
"Wait... It wasn't supposed to explode? Are you sure? I distinctly remember it exploding."
"Am I starting to sound like Ilya?"
"I don't understand," Ilya looks around the room for confirmation. "Do I sound unusual?"
Ilya listens as the others report the events of the day. "A quiet patrol is something to be prized. And a show, this evening... Not to be a party crasher," Ilya flashed a mischievous smile oddly reminiscent of Nicat's, "but shouldn't the official deputies of the Sheriff make a show of official peace-keeping at such an event. I mean, it will be a rather large crowd..."
Eostre looks at Ilya with an "Are you serious?!" expression on her face.
"YES! You talk about things that haven't happened yet as if they're ancient history and things that have happened in the past like they're in the future, and that makes it sodding hard to understand WHAT you're talking about in the first place!"
She lets out an exasperated sigh before turning to Ekan and the others.
"And now that I've got that not-so-little bit of frustration off my not-so-little chest, what event are you talking about?"
"Well besides Aldern coming in here and inviting Sylvia to a play and hiring me as his bodyguard, nothing else happened" Fulko rolled his left shoulder backwards "I'd say the Rusty Dragon has been peaceful ever since Ameiko slayed a dragon, turned its corpse into iron and hung him over her inn as a warning"
"If you're referring to the sign out front, it's not an impressive dragon. Don't treat me like some gullible rube to be plied with tall tales just because I'm not a local."
Ekan raises a brow at Eostre's reaction to Fulko "I think you may attribute malice where none is intended sometimes, Eostre."
to Ilya's suggestion, he muses it, "I suppose we should keep our focus where large crowds gather. You may have a very good point."
"Grow up around enough pirates, Szcarni, Cyphermages and Calistrians and you pretty much get used to attributing malice where none might be."
"YES! You talk about things that haven't happened yet as if they're ancient history and things that have happened in the past like they're in the future, and that makes it sodding hard to understand WHAT you're talking about in the first place!"
"I understand," Ilya nods, his forehead a deeper shade of blue. "It can be confusing. For example, I distinctly remember having this same conversation yesterday. And again as we walked to the Bottled Solutions. Perhaps if the past and future wouldn't repeat themselves so deliberately, it wouldn't be so difficult to differentiate them..."
"I suppose we should keep our focus where large crowds gather. You may have a very good point."
"Excellent!" Ilya responds, his good humor restored. "I had not expected to see a show, today! And the unexpected is always to be much prized..."
"Hah, relax Eostre, its a joke...not the best of jokes, now that I think about it" Fulko scratched his chin as a feigned focused expression came on his face, but soon enough his usual smirk broke through the poor act he put up "Wouldn't hurt to get to know the guards at the gates of the town, we should tell them to give us a warning if they see anything suspicious" A more serious tone took over Fulko's voice, as a more or less honest stern look came on his face.
"I understand," Ilya nods, his forehead a deeper shade of blue. "It can be confusing. For example, I distinctly remember having this same conversation yesterday. And again as we walked to the Bottled Solutions. Perhaps if the past and future wouldn't repeat themselves so deliberately, it wouldn't be so difficult to differentiate them..."
Eostre's about to add more bluster and frustration, but she stops short. Like it or not, Ilya had a point. SHE'D been the one who constantly said his speech patterns were weird.
"Point taken. I'm...sorry."
She sounds almost like she's not used to saying that.
Nicat grins broadly and begins to chuckle as Eostre takes Ilya's gentle point. "Okay, seems we should have time for a drink or two before this show, right? And are there tickets for all of us, or should some of us plan to stand deputy duty outside? Just in case there are some theatre-going hoodlums about, or goblins looking to sit in a box seat when their tickets clearly say 'Upper Balcony.'"
He turns to Ameiko and says, "A round on me! Looks like that apology left a funny taste in Eostre's mouth, and we can't have that. Not sure what Ilya will have, but I hope in this case he won't drink something he already drank, if you know what I mean?"
Glad to see a bridge of understanding start to form, Ekan turns to Nicat, "I think the rest of us will either have to buy our own tickets or see if they wish to let us in as long as we explain we're acting as security in service to the sheriff and town."
He turns to Ameiko and says, "A round on me! Looks like that apology left a funny taste in Eostre's mouth, and we can't have that. Not sure what Ilya will have, but I hope in this case he won't drink something he already drank, if you know what I mean?"
"Okay, okay, you DON'T have to rub it in." Eostre snaps.
"Whoa, whoa, easy, Eostre!" says Nicat, surprised by the vehemence of his dwarven friend's response. "I'm buying you a drink, not rubbing anything in. We all just had a little moment there, kinda nice but maybe a wee bit awkward, and now we're all going to head out to the thee-ay-tuh, and I wanted us to go as friends."
He picks up the pint that Ameiko has just set down, the foaming glass of ale nearly as big as his head, and raises it to Eostre, then to the rest of his fellow deputies. In a cheery voice, that makes clear he hasn't an unkind bone in his body, Nicat calls out, "Here’s champagne to our real friends, and real pain to our sham friends!"
He takes a healthy slug of his ale, exhales a great sigh of pleasure and licks a rich, foamy mustache off his smile.
"Well we still have sometime before the play, any suggestions as what we should do before then?" Asked Fulko, clearly amused by the back and forth between the dwarf and halfling.
Aldern finally speaks up after listening to the conversation.
"Well... we could use the time to get ourselves some proper clothes for the play." He gives Fulko a critical look. "No offence intended, sir, but I don't think your current attire would be appropriate for the theatre." He eyes the veritable armoury Fulko is carrying.
Eostre blinks.
"How long has he been standing there?"
"Ever since you came in, Eostre." Ameiko pipes up.
"I know, I almost missed him when you arrived too."
"...I'm an idiot."
"I'd be a fool to refuse a new set of clothes, but my armor and weapons stay, it would be hard to do my job without my tools" He turned to the noble an appreciative tone rolling with his words.
"I suppose I could get some new clothes, but something loose if I do. If there is, gods forbid, some trouble, I'll need to be able to move."
"Wait, Aldern's buying us all clothes?!" Nicat asks excitedly. "That's great! Now, should I go with a nice dark blue with silver trim, so I look like a proper sheriff's deputy? Or maybe something a bit rougher, dark leathers I'm thinking, for the whole 'bounty hunter' effect? I want to look good and menacing, since I'll be standing guard outside, right?"
Aldern steps toward the door. "Well, I don't plan to stop you, sir." He says to Fulko.
"And... I suppose I do owe the rest of you for saving my life. I suppose I can pay for your clothes." He shrugs. "I only have three tickets, though--you'll have to speak with Mr. Drokkus for that."
He steps through the door, looking back with a smile and offering his arm to Sylvia. "Shall we?"
"I say get a mix of both Nicat, you want the people to take you seriously as a deputy, but don't let them forget your bounty hunter roots" He gives a grin to the halfling before getting up from his stool and shadowing Aldern "Don't worry I'll keep ya safe Foxglove" He gives the noble a reassuring slap on the shoulder.
Ilya tugs lightly at his threadworn traveler's tunic. "Something a bit more festive would be nice. Let's check out this Vernah's, shall we?"
I certainly won't say no to a new outfit. I left most of my clothes behind in Riddleport, obviously, so if I plan on staying here for a while, I'll need at least one change of clothes."
Nicat nods seriously, impressed and inspired by Fulko's fashion advice. He pictures himself in a rich, blue broadcloth, like an Andoran Navy officer, piped with gold braid and topped by a fine admiral's hat, itself shaped like a ship of war. To this image he adds a clutch of weapons, broadswords and halberds and other unlikely things festooning his finery, even giving himself an imaginary hook for a hand and a carved scrimshaw peg-leg. "Aye, maties,", he cries to his assembled friends, who have no idea of the images running through Nicat's head and are certainly a bit confused by the sudden introduction of pirate-talk to the conversation, "let's spend some pieces of eight on the finest finery! We'll be the handsomest crew afloat!"
"I did recently win some coin of my own, and I can use it if someone recommends what is appropriate"
Eostre blinks.
"Are we bound for the Shackles now?"
After a smooth trip to Vernah's, the party arrives at Sandpoint's Theatre, decked out in fine clothing suitable for a courtly function or two. After a bit of persuasion, Aldern pays for four more tickets and hands them off to Ekan, Eostre, Ilya and Nicat.
"Feel free to seat yourselves wherever you wish. I'm planning on a front-row seat myself." Aldern eyes the stage before turning to Sylvia. "Unless, Miss Jahlyn, you have something else in mind?"
From the look on his face, he's very much hoping Sylvia agrees with him.
"Thank you for the tickets, Master Foxglove."
For perhaps the twentieth time, Ilya runs a finger through the stiff, embroidered collar of his new robe. He tugs it down, sighing as the pressure on his throat immediately returns.
Turning to Ekan, he says, "You have greater foresight than I, it seems." He watches enviously as Ekan moves easily in his free-flowing outfit. "I should have chosen something a bit less... starched."
"I think I will sit towards the side, there," Ilya points towards the eastern wing of the theatre. "The acoustics may be a little shaky, but I should have a good view of everything."
Eostre's outfit practically sparkles with deep green and gold, accentuating her generously padded figure while not leaving it exposed. She was no sorceress, with her cleavage and arse hanging out of straps. She was a wizard, dignified and reserved. She wishes she could have afforded some decent jewelry to go with it, but beggars could not be choosers. At least Lord Foxglove was generous enough to provide this opportunity.
"I'll sit with you, Ilya. A good view means if some trouble starts I'd be in a good position to start lobbing fireballs...of course, I can't lob fireballs yet. But if I could...dear GODS I'm starting to sound like Nicat!"
To Nicat's great dismay, Vernah's array of Fine Clothing does not extend to Andoran naval uniforms, nor anything particularly resembling them. He nonetheless tries on quite a variety of potential outfits, nearly making any of his companions willing to wait for him late for the raising of the curtain. After a number of fierce arguments with Vernah and her staff (That rainbow-hued dress could easily be cut into a dashing cloak, if she'd only listen!), he settles on a surprisingly sober long, velvet coat in black, with touches of silver trim and lace, and pants to match. Though he makes a case for heaps of gold piping to be added to it, he's reminded they have a show to get to, and he settles for the outfit as is.
To everyone's surprise, Nicat ends up looking rather fetching, even sophisticated, in his theater clothes. The impression is undone, however, when they arrive at the theater and he calls out, just as everyone is getting settled before the show, "I'm sitting with you, Ilya and Eostre! If the show sucks eggs, you guys are always good for a laugh!"
Eostre rolls her eyes and frowns.
"Great. Now I'm apparently entertaining. There goes my academic credibility."
"Not to worry, Eostre," says Nicat, oblivious to the many theatre-goers turning to stare at him and hush him into silence as they anticipate the lifting of the curtain, "it's only when you're trying to talk to Ilya that you're really, really entertaining. You remind me of those two guys in the story, the tall one and the fat one, who confuse each other talking about a roll-ball player named First, but who also goes first...or maybe his team's in first? Anyway, that's what you remind me of."