"I have to agree with you and I can't blame you for feeling like Sandpoint isn't as quiet as we like to think. It certainly hasn't been of late." The mayor sighs and rubs her temples. "To be fair to Balor, he is probably the best sheriff we've ever had in our short existence. The problem is things are out of sight, out of mind for the most part with the goblins. This level of aggression and organization is unusual for them. The last time something like this happened was when I was a small girl, and even then it wasn't as large as this seems to be. If whatever's at Thistletop is behind the goblins organizing, then we'll need to take them out. I've already sent word to Magnimar looking for masons and stoneweavers to take care of things below ground. I think as soon as Shalelu gets back, all of you should take care of Thistletop and hopefully end whatever plot is going on there. I'm afraid I don't know much about what you've found, but what I do know is bad enough that I want it taken care of. Do that, and I'll be forever in your debt."
Morgrym looks at the others.
Well that is a clear cry for help as I have ever heard. If nothing else, I will assist in whatever plan to deal with Thisletop as comes up.
He then looks around at the others.
I think his suggestion of having Shalelu guide us there is for the best
He nodded in agreeance doing his best to look well like he thought a stoic guardsman should. He was a little nervous though. Between the weirdness below the town and the idea of going to a known goblin stronghold he was uneasy. Plus with all the things miss Trig had mentioned about the Sczarni and well Lazur's troubles it felt like one great miasma bubble of trouble had burst over the town.
"You can count on us to do our best Miss Mayor."
He managed to put words to his head nod finally.
"Yes, let's wait for Shalelu. Good to have a guide that knows the land.
Should we go share what we found with the local scholar?"
"Local scholar seems like a good choice. But, Mayor, when is Shalelu returning? Do we have a timeline? "
"Her schedule has never been precise, but she should be back by tomorrow at the latest," Mayor Deverin says. "Though when tomorrow is the real question I suppose."
Lazur bows his head to the mayor and says "Thank you. We will do what we can to keep this town safe."
He then looks to the rest of the group, "Shall we all head to Brodert's? I don't think it is a good idea for us to split up currently based on what the Scarzni are up to."
Lead the way. With the gangs acting up, I agree it is not safe to split up.
Morgrym settles his gear and follows along behind the group.
"Yeah, let's go talk ta Brodert Quink.
Even if can't tell us nothin' more, I think the man deserves ta know that he was right all these years 'bout the lighthouse bein' a Thassilonian tower-of-fire war machine.
I am curious about how he knew that... what other information he found that might be a clue.
Nualia is diggin' up this old stuff, and its magic still works. The more we know, the better."
"You mean the Old Light," the mayor asks, her curiosity evident. "I've heard that Brodent Quink always said that it wasn't a light house, but what else could it have been? There's stories going back centuries about it being a light house, like the Lady's Light just down the coast."
"Well... it does seem that it was more than just that. We gotta check with Brodert and tell him what we found.
Probably best that none of the townsfolk go pokin' around the Old Light. Some of the old magic still has some power, and that could be dangerous."
The walk to Brodent's home is wet and chilly. By the end of it, even though dressed for the rain shiver from the cold.
Brodent Quink is a short man with a grandfatherly face and a voice to match. He ushers you inside and begins making hot drinks for everyone.
"Now," he says as the kettle begins to heat, "What brings you to my door in this kind of weather? Not exactly a fine afternoon to come calling on."
"Well, Mister Quink - " - "We've just had a most interestin' find.
An old Thassolonian complex under the Glassworks.
Seems ta connect ta the Old Light.
And we found evidence in that complex that you were right. The Old Light was some sorta weapon for the Runelords.
Lazur found a poem in Ancient Thassilonian that said the Old Light was a 'Tower that rained the purest fire to smite the fools of Shalast'.
Just like your theory. If ya don't mind me askin', how did ya come up with the theory? What sources did ya have?"
He digs around in his pack (or more likely his allies' packs as well, given the volume of material).
"We also found a lot of old books and scrolls. Most torn up and will take a long time ta put together again.
Would ya be willin' ta work with us on that? We could leave them here."
"Now, we've asked the Mayor ta close up the site so no kids get ta pokin' around down there. But we took notes, and drew sketches, and brought ya back a lifetime of readin' material."
Trig slaps Wayland's hand as it reaches for her pack before taking out the book on monsters she had gotten in the catacombs. "Also, what this over-eager wizard is failing to mention was the constant life and death situations required to get this knowledge. And maybe some of it is extremely valuable and maybe some of it would fetch a hefty price instead of just giving it away." Trig said with a glare.
Brodert Quink's interest vanishes into a grimace as he hears Wayland ask how he came to his theories and then winces as Trig tells of the trials the group had overcome.
"I think I shall be needing something stronger than tea this afternoon," he muses as he sags into one of the chairs in his kitchen. "I'll pay whatever it is you think is fair for the information and items you recovered, even if you will only allow me to make copies. My family is fairly wealthy back in Absolom, and the modest living that I have inherited is more than enough to satisfy my needs here."
His eyes grow dark and his voice flat as he continues.
"As for how I came to know what I do, I'm afraid that is something that is hard for me to tell."
Lazur looks at Brdert for a moment and then says "Hard to tell as in you don't know how things came, or it's a secret or it's painful to tell the story? I can understand not wanting to drudge up painful memories but we are trying to find out what is happening in town here now and the survival of the town may depend on us figuring this out. It would help to know how you got your theories."
"I would consider 250 gold a fair price for the texts," says Wayland.
As to the matter of how Quink came by his theories, Wayland gets noticeably less curious once the man says it is a difficult tale to tell.
"I understand."
Wayland won't press the man (so no Aid Another), but he also won't dissuade Lazur from trying to do so unless the inquiry seems to really upset Quink, in which case Wayland will suggest to Lazur that it is time to go.
Wayland's empathy for the scholar seems to outweigh his curiosity.
"Everyone has a past, some not all that pleasant. Maybe talking about it will help."
He added with a slightly embarrassed smile.
"I second 250 gold. I mean, it's a little small for something we risked our lives for, but goodwill has to come from somewhere." Trig said. However, the other information didn't particularly interest her as much as the payment did.
"I happen to agree with you, Ms. Trig." Brodert smiles at the gnome woman, but it never brightens his darkened eyes. "I think five-hundred gold should be more inline with the value of the texts and other information you've gleaned." The smile fades into a frown of old and tired grief as he continues.
"As for how I came to my theories, it is indeed an unpleasant tale, but one that I think you will appreciate and even understand." The fire crackles and pops as the rain falls harder and pelts the windows and shutters. The chill in the air deepens despite the fire as the gray outside deepens and darkens.
"Before coming here, I was a Pathfinder. I met my wife, Penelope, on one of my missions, and, the gods help me, she and I fell in love. We were both scholars and thought there was more to Varisia's ruins than was known. After a few years, we'd managed to build enough clout to have an expedition approved to one of the lesser known ruins on the Stroval Plateau."
He sighs. His shoulders sag and the lines in his face deepen, making him age decades in the space of one breath and the next.
"I still don't know what that foul place was for, but as we delved into it, we realized the rulers of ancient Thassilon were not so benevolent as we had believed. Three weeks after we started, we awakened something. Something monstrous. It slaughtered our people and chased us out of the ruins and away from them. In the chaos, Penelope and I were separated. I searched for her, despite the survivors refusing to go anywhere near the ruins. I found my dear Penelope, dead. The life torn from her as she tried to help another member of our expedition escape. Most of our notes were destroyed in the attack, and ever since then I've been looking for proof that Thassilon is not the shining beacon legend and myth has made it to be."
Thunder rumbles in the distance as the tea kettle begins to whistle. The old scholar shuffles over to the fire and pours the hot water over the tea to let the leaves steep.
"I wish you hadn't risked your lives for what you have brought me, but I am grateful for the opportunity, despite the painful memories it dredges up."
Lazur looks at Brodert in the eye and says "Thank you. I know that was hard for you. You have my condolences on your loss. We went down there for the good of the city and brought back what we could. The Thassilon we saw down there was not a good place. Once the city has that secure down there you may want to ask the mayor if you can take a look. You might find something we missed."
"Thank you."
The moved him, but not in the best of ways. Why did life seem so fleeting and harsh? It was no wonder that some of the other guards he knew spent most of their paycheck on drink and the kitten. He shook his head slightly as if the act would clear his head from thinking about Tessa. He wasnt even sure she knew his name.
"It sure does sound like your thoughts about Thassilon being uh bad sounds about right to me. That place gave me the creeps."
Morgrym comes in from outside just in time to to hear the last part about Thassilon from Calin.
I dunno what it was under Sandpoint, but I agree that it gives the creeps.
"Bah, don't worry yourself on this old fool's account," Brodert says as he waves his hand before him. "It's old and still painful, but it hasn't killed me yet. I wanted you to understand what you may be getting into. As for what you found, I'm sure we'll be learning more about it in the coming months."
Trig divides the gold to everyone equally. "If we find out anything else, we'll come let you know."
The Rusty Dragon is still shockingly empty, given its reputation, when you arrive after your visit with Brodert Quink. There are only a handful of patrons scattered about the tables. They look up as you walk in, bringing the chill winds heralding the coming winter with you, and just a quickly return to their soft conversations and drinks.
All of them save one. A hooded figure in one of the darker corners watches as you make your way in. Ameiko sits at the bar instead of standing behind it or working in the kitchen. The trials of the last few days have left even her fire banked, though she does smile as she spots you.
"Well, I see all of you have returned. I hope everything was boring and dull given what has been going on." She wraps her fingers around a steaming mug of sweet smelling tea to warm them as she waits for your answer.
Morgrym grins back.
Well, boring for me, but not so for yourself.
Ale, and a bowl of that fine stew that I smell
He shrugs off his heavy pack, and sets it down beside him at the table.
He then pulls up a chair, and waits for the food, and to see what develops.
Does Wayland recognize the hooded figure as Shalelu? He has met her before.
"I'm sorry ta say, Ameiko, that Sandpoint's borin' days may be well behind it.
Somethin's goin' on.
We'll do what we can to head off the trouble before it gets here.
That Shalelu over there?"
He entered the bar near his workplace with a familiarity that made him feel welcome. The hooded figure however immediately drew his attention and concern...After all hadn't miss Trig mentioned that some Sczarni may have issues with her. He didn't think they would be so brazen but still. He made sure to put himself between Trig and the cloaked figure and he kept a side eye watching her. He wasnt subtle about watching the figure at all.
"That stew does smell amazing. Any interesting travelers stop by?"
He added to Morgrym's question about the stew. He merely nodded when Wayland mentioned trying to head off the trouble.
Ameiko grins as she starts to rise, but a firm "ahem" from Bethana has her sitting back down with a meek and apologetic chuckle. The matronly halfling waits for a handful of breaths with fists planted on hips as she glowers at her employer. Ameiko's smile fades into a properly abashed and blushing expression of contrition before the halfling woman relents.
"I see seven bowls of stews and seven drinks need to be brought out, milady," she says. Her expression remains the same, and there's nothing obvious in her voice, but there's that undertone of for-your-own-good gloating to Bethana's voice. Her expression hardens as Ameiko begins to protest, but it appears the owner of the Rusty Dragon knows fate when she sees it.
"Yes ma'am." Ameiko's voice is soft as a new-born kittens fur as she shrinks away from Bethana's stare.
"It'll be right out."
After the doors to the kitchen stop swinging from Bethana's passage, Ameiko recovers enough of her usual gumption and fire to speak again.
"Can't say I'm happy to hear that, Wayland. Can't say I'm surprised either. I'm sorry to say that most travelers are more interested in getting to Magnimar than trading tales. They can tell something's awry." Her smile returns as she turns to face the scholar and answer his question. "As for Shalelu, well," she says, drawing out the last word before she continues with a beatific voice and smile that no one would ever mistake for innocent. "She might be around."
Trig listens to Bethana's response before looking at the hooded figure. She appreciated Calin's wariness, but this wasn't the time to address it. She tried to see who it was.
"That's because everyone is worried. For good reason, of course. And no one likes a place where the locals are spooked." Trig looked back towards the door Ameiko disappeared behind. "Speaking of spooked, seems you have her under a tight watch."
"Ameiko, sit and have some stew and ale with us. Things are okay at the moment, at least."
"I don't think Bethana is giving me much of a choice," Ameiko says. She chuckles with genuine mirth and the Rusty Dragon's famous owner peeks through the dark clouds of grief, depression, and fear that had been over her since you found her under the Glassworks.
The shadowed and cloaked figure at the table in the darkest corner of the taproom is indeed Shalelu. As soon as she notices your scrutiny, she looks away with an oddly embarrassed air.
Well it is to be expected with what i heard that you went through.
However, I take it that is Shalelu over there, and if you would be so kind as to introduce us?
Morgrym leans back and glances politely over, and turns his attention to the now arriving stew.
"Sure is," Ameiko says with a grin. She hops off the stool and leads the party over to the table with the not so well disguised Shalelu who's now glaring at Ameiko.
"We really need to work on your mystique," the tavern and innkeeper says. She undeniably smirks at the elf as Shalelu lowers her hood and reveals her pink and rapidly growing darker cheeks.
"This was your idea!"
"Because every good story needs the heroes to meet a mysterious, hooded stranger." Ameiko grins as she settles into one of the chairs around the table as Bethana and a gnomish girl carry platters with bowls, mugs, bread, butter, and a whole spread of food. "It's just a shame you can't pull it off."
Shalelu groans as she buries her head in one hand. For a moment, it's easy to forget this is Sandpoint's skilled goblin hunter. Ameiko grins, obviously enjoying herself at the elf's expense, though it's hard to miss the friendly warmth in her smile. The one a jokester gives to a long suffering friend.
"Ameiko, one of these days I'm going to beat some sense into you."
"You wouldn't!" Ameiko's expression shifts to shock and horror, though not even a newborn was likely to think it genuine. "You fiend! Bethana would protect me if such horror were to come to pass."
"Actually, Milady, I'd help her if I thought it'd do any good." Bethana glowers at her employer, though she can't get much power into it. Shalelu perks up, her eyebrows rising up to hide under her bangs as she looks at Bethana then Ameiko.
"'Milady?' What's Bethana talking about, Ameiko?"
And just as it seemed Ameiko was on the mend, her mood changes like the dousing of a candle. The air grows still and Bethana looks at Ameiko with sympathy in her eyes. Ameiko shrinks in her chair as the question cracks what was apparently a mask to hide the wounds she was feeling.
"I'll bring some tea, Milady," Bethana says as she leaves with the gnome girl in tow, having finished setting the food on the table. The silence lingers for several more moments.
"I— I don't think I can tell you, not yet." Ameiko looks to the party with tear-bright eyes still haunted by her experience in the glassworks. "I hate to be a coward, but can you tell her. I don't think I can," she asks all of you.
"Go have that tea, Ameiko. I will tell Shalelu."
Wayland sits down next to the elven ranger and begins to speak quietly.
"Shalelu, you were out of town when this happened.
Ameiko's father, Lonjiku Kaijitsu, is dead. Killed in the Glassworks. That makes Ameiko 'Milady'.
Lonjiku was killed by goblins, I think, but it were at the command of either his son Tsuto or else Nualia. You remember Nualia, right? An Aasimar what looked like a Tiefling? Presumed dead in a fire several years ago?
Well, she ain't dead. She's been pokin' around the old Thassilonian ruins. Stole the remains of her foster father Tobyn. She's got some Lamashtu religion.
Tsuto and Nualia mean ta bring the goblins from Thistletop an' attack in force. A leader called Ripnugget, maybe a bugbear named Bruthazmus. And there's some demon named Malfeshnekor that Nualia is tryin' ta release."
Wayland shows Shalelu the journal. Link.
"We had Tsuto prisoner, but somehow Nualia or the goblins broke into the jail, killed the guard, and freed him. So he's with them now.
That's why we need ta get ta Thistletop. Put a stop ta these plans, these goblins, and Tsuto and Nualia."
He had heard of Shalelu of course, everyone in town had. His both spoke of her like a favored angel what with her penchant for killing goblins and his boss's hatred of the green things. He knew she was a skilled and dangerous ranger... He didn't know she was going to be so good looking especially with that blush. Then again she was a full elf, so how could she not be.
Self conscious both for well his half blooded nature and just not being good with womenfolk for the most part He hung back and let Wayland speak with the ranger. He didnt have the same details that Wayland did anyways.
"We also found a lot of weird things under the glassworks," Trig continued where Wayland stopped. "But I suppose we can gloss over the part with the Sinspawns and evil water, including that one we came across outside of town. That farmer still needs to pay us, by the by. I bet he's hoping we forgot about it. Haven't, though. I suppose that doesn't have much to do with the immediate question of why Ameiko is now Lady Ameiko, but it's worth bringing up. But, that dungeon has given me an incredibly large headache from all this so-called heroes work some of us is calling what we've been doing, so I'm going to eat until it goes away. Good? Good. Continue."
Trig doesn't hide that she slides a piece of bread into her sleeve and begins eating with her other hand.
The silence lingers on for several moments as Shalelu sits and tries to understand what has been going on since she'd been away. The only emotion to cross her face, other than growing shock, is a grimace at the mention of Bruthazmus.
"Ameiko," she says softly as she reaches out and holds her friend's hand, "I'm so sorry. I... I should've... I—"
She stops as Ameiko squeezes her hand and looks up with a wan smile.
"'Sokay. I know."
After the tender moment passes, Shalelu sits back and stares at her food before grabbing the mug in front of her and taking a long pull.
"That certainly explains some stuff. And if you've been running into monsters like sinspawn, we've got some bigger problems than goblins getting organized. Eat up little one, I have a feeling our next good meal is going to be long in coming and well earned." Shalelu looks to the others her eyes grim and a cold smile on her lips. "So, what is our next move?"
"The first move, weed eater, is to never call me little one. We're not friends. I barely even like these idiots. Don't call me that." Trig's frown reached a whole new level.
But she shook it off, and her frown returned to normal. "I'd like to put evacuating the town back on the table. But then, Wayland will say something about uprooting a while town is logistically unfeasible and how we're the only ones here who can help everyone. Huzzah. So, we leave town and all the problems here in search of the cause of most of those problems. That's why we wanted to meet you. Because you know things and slay goblins."
Ameiko tries to stifle a snicker as Trig calls Shalelu "weed eater." Clearly abashed, the elven ranger mutters an apology before the gnome continues on.
"I do, and I have to say that moving over a thousand people spread over a few dozen square miles isn't going to work, not with winter setting in and no planning for moving so many and the food to feed them," Shalelu says as she considers what Trig has told her. "And while I understand that you'd rather not leave things unresolved here in town, I think we have to handle the threat we know about and hope the threat that might be here doesn't turn out to be real. It stinks, to be blunt, but we can't be everywhere. We'll just have to hope that the townsfolk are capable of handling anything that comes up while we're out. Balor's boys and girls are good, a little green, but still good. I think we won't have to worry overly much with them around."
Lazur nods and says "Getting out of town would be good for a while. Besides we have goblins to kill and plans to destroy. I am ready to set out whenever everyone else is."