Hemlock chuckles pleasantly at Onrik's announcement, and notices how much they're both covered in blood. "Hells, why didn't ye say so." He reaches out a monstrous hand to clasp Onrik's, and then Trap's. "Name's Hemlock, I'm de Sheriff of Sandpoint. Was just about to go back on patrol."
He grimaces at Trap's question. "Everywhere. We had several come into de hall, some in people's homes. I think we scare'd most of 'em off, but de damned buggers tend to find places to hide, stick around a mite."
Cocking an eyebrow, he looks between Onrik and Trap, and at Brunhilda and Swan standing further behind. "Wot brings ye to de hall, then?"
"Like you said trying to make sure the goblins are all gone or dead. Seeing also if we can figure out their strategy and leadership."
"This group seemed better planned than most goblins, so we might have to get the planner and let the rest rot."
Onrik nods in agreement with the young halfling's summation of the situation. Aye dese creatures got enough nerve to be doing dis on dere own free will. We confirmed dis with a critter dat da Priest at yer church was able to capture. So my words be for you Sheriff. Be dere any more strange occurances dat have happened leading up to dis? Or do you why dese goblins would attack da town in broad daylight?
The sheriff shakes his head at Onrik's questions. "Nay, ye got me. Dey raid sometimes, but never like dis - somehow sneaking in during a celebration? It's high profile for dem. Dey are cowards, only attacking when dey have advantage."
He cocks his head at the group. "Ye seen anything else weird?"
Trap whistles innocently as it seems no one saw anything weird....
Brunhilda shrugs, thinking to herself that the only weird thing she saw today was goblins brazenly attacking a settlement. She re-adjusts her armour and shakes her head at the Sheriff. "Not me. Anything else that needs to be done to clear the town, Sheriff?"
The Sheriff grunts. "Jus checkin for stragglers."
The group spends some hours on patrol, during which they find a couple of straggler goblins, and then retire to their rooms for the evening. When they wake up in the morning and head down for breakfast, they find that they have a few notes waiting for them.
One is from Father Zantus, and reminds them not to forget about the Goblin that they have left with him. A second is from Aldern Foxglove, who says he's staying at the Rusty Dragon Inn and would like to thank them properly for saving his life, and a third is from Sheriff Hemlock, who requests their presence at the mayor's office whenever is convenient.
"I think we have left poor Father Zantus in an awkward situation, it would be kind to deal with his issue first."
"Yes let us take the goblin from Father Zantus and we can take hom to see both Aldern and the Sherif."
Trap nudges Brunhilda and laughs...
"I think the goblin will have to be last, unless you want to give him to the sheriff?"
Swan, waking weary and grumblish, packs her pipe full of fragrant herbs and spends a quarter-candle puffing at it before speaking.
"Let Hemlock weigh his fate, or the mayor, but let's not leave him with Father Zantus longer than necessary, eh?" She rubs absently at her new collection of scabs, and blows a malformed smoke-ring out the small window.
The group walks back towards the church and finds things in mostly the same state as they left them last night - most of the wounded have felt good enough to leave for their homes (thanks to Swan and Father Zantus). The minor repairs that the church needs have not been begun
As the group enters, they can see Father Zantus studying a book, while the Goblin sits in its invisible cage, looking glum. Father Zantus looks up at them, and greets them with a warm smile. When the goblin notices, he looks towards them as well, a mixture of fear and hope visible on his face.
To the goblin in goblin
"So are you ready to tell us who got the goblins to attack and why?"
Brunhilda does not draw her axe, and instead looks to Onrik. The thing was a prisoner, so she knew there was no honour in killing the beast. The fact that it was indeed a beast was the only thing that kept her morality from urging her to free it. Onrik was undoubtedly correct that the thing would turn on them the first chance it had, but it wasn't something that Brunhilda necessarily wanted weighing on her mind. She wondered if her ancestors had ever come across a situation such as this.
Part of her believed that they might be able to gain the beast's loyalty, utilise it's skills in some way. The maturer part of her mind dismissed such notions as folly and naive.
Nonetheless, she approaches the goblin, and squats to be closer to it. "Have you eaten?" she asks, with no love or emotion.
"Daughter of..." he then closes his mouth. The look on his face is grim and he watches in disgust at Brunhilda speaking to the worthless creature. He takes a step forward and draws his blade. "So ye look to speak to dis abomination. Proceed as ye will Daughter of Oakenarm but IT should know I will remove its head from its body with no regret."
"At least it could die without a rumbling belly. There's no honour in killing the surrendered" he replies firmly.
"If you'd feed it and keep it as a pet you be giving no justice to da innocents that will never speak again. These people ye probably knew personally Daughter of Oakenarm. Remember dat each time ye feed da creature."
The words he spoke were true, and it cut Brunhilda to the bone. She clenched her jaw, and nodded with a slow understanding. Rising to her feet, she stepped back away from the Goblin. "You're right, Ironoath. This beast has caused enough harm."
"I am trying to get the goblin to point to the instigator of this mess."
To the goblin in goblin
"Tell us who goblin boss is."
The goblin looks heartened at Brunhilda asking about its well-being, and then its face falls as she becomes all business. "Not harm anyone." He whines. "Told everything I know."
Father Zantus approaches the group. "The creature has been well-behaved," he observes. Not saying anything either way, simply stating fact. "But I did notice something else early this morning as I was assessing the damage."
Whether he doesn't think the goblin is long for this world, or simply doesn't think it's worth hiding, Father Zantus continues to speak without moving them away from him. "One of our mausoleums in the yard has been opened." He shakes his head. "I did not venture inside, for fear that if something happened to me, our friend here might be released."
The goblin listens curiously, and seems to be in thought when Father Zantus stops speaking.
Brunhilda notices the curious look on the goblins face at this information. "Speak up little one, any information you can provide may serve to prolong your time in this world."
"Are you hungry?"
Trap fishes a couple of pieces of rock candy from his pocket, he hands one to the goblin....
"If you saw or smelled this man again, would you recognize him?"
"Was it just the one tomb, Father?" Swan asks around her pipestem. Another smoke-ring wobbles lazily towards the chapel's high ceiling.
"Doesn't strike me that a scramble of goblins would settle for just a single bit of despoilment, if grave-robbin' was the goal, eh?"
The goblin nods at Trap, munching happily on the candy with his crooked teeth. "Would recognise." He confirms. "Would know by smell, too." To Brunhilda, he only shrugs. "Not am knowing certain, so not am saying." He eyes her weapon. "Would die if wrong, accused of lies and trickery."
Father Zantus nods to Swan. "Indeed, just the one. None of the other mausoleums or graves look at all disturbed. It occurred to me that some of the goblins may have taken to hiding in there when the tides turned against them."
The goblin starts to object to the notion of Goblins being grave-robbers, but stops when Father Zantus mentions them hiding out in the crypt. Such an ambush was exactly in their nature, and he knew it.
Brun steps out of earshot of the goblin as best as she can. "Clearing out the crypts is a pressing concern. I personally wish to go straight there, perhaps alerting the sheriff too along the way. The town isn't safe if they're still around.
"Maybe we can take our goblin sniffing around town for the instigator and get the sheriff to guard the tomb until we get to it."