Valerica, seeing the others go for the rider, decides to help by picking off the smaller goblins with her arrows. She fires a shot at Green!
Attack; FE: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Damage; FE: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Yellow: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Red: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Ride: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
vs Ponok, FE: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
1d8 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
The goblin Kitchel faces cackles at her swipe at him that cuts only air, and spits words at her in turn in a mocking and bragging tone.
"Stupid rat should stay in the sewers! We gots in the same way as any a yous--through the gate!"
In turn it stabs at her, but Kitchel expertly bats aside the knife and plunges her sword into the goblin's stomach. The goblin jolts back, still alive but badly hurt. The same cannot be said for the one next to it, as Valerica's arrow finds a home in Green's throat, and it collapses.
The goblin rider is still off-balance from the surprise, and is powerless to act to protect its mount as Ponok lunges, bites down on the goblin-dog's neck, and rips out its throat. The now unmounted rider falls, but lands on its feet and snarls angrily. It avoids Ponok's claws and Edamm's sword, steps back, and swipes at Ponok with its horsechopper, equally effective at putting a large gash across Ponok's side.
Red takes the lead from the leader and moves up to attack Ponok, but misses.
Green is dead, goblin-dog is dead, Yellow has taken 5 points of damage, Ponok has taken 8 points of damage. Red and the leader have taken no damage. Kitchel is down 1 panache. Tif is up, then everyone else.
Power Attack Flail + Flank: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 2 = 20
Power Attack Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
As the goblin reels from Kitchel's riposte, Tif swings around her friend, using the momentum to send the head of her flail smashing into the goblin and knocking it to the ground.
Quickly scanning the remaining two goblins, she moves to flank the tougher looking goblin, tumbling to avoid any strikes of his axe.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Single attack, Acrobatics move. Is it a reach weapon? I'm going S, S, SE in any case.
"Hmm, maybe these goblins aren't that sneaky after all. Well, that particular one's not at all sneaky any more I suppose."
Seeing the rest of the group focused on the leader with his Horse-chopper, Kitchel darts off the opposite direction to help assist the panther with the remaining goblin. Deciding that she's probably got enough cover from the others even if the horse-chopper might swing her way, she darts all the way to the goblin's back to offer it what she hopes will be a good hard poke with her rapier.
Rapier Attack on Red: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 6 + 2 = 21
Rapier Damage (P): 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Move action to flank Red, standard action to attack.
Wayland moves a bit and throws his bolas at the leader.
Ranged Attack, Into Melee, Nonproficient, True Strike: 1d20 + 2 - 4 - 4 + 20 ⇒ (2) + 2 - 4 - 4 + 20 = 16 vs CMD to trip
Trig, recognizing heavy wounds when she saw them, hustled through the fighting group and up to Ponok. Once there, she reached out towards the animal and placed her hand on its flank. A few words under her breath, and Trig's hair and eyes began to reflect the light and shimmer like scales. In an instant it was gone, and a brief flash of light moved from her hand to the cat.
Cure Light Wounds on Ponok: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
[ooc]Move 15 feet, standard to cast Cure Light Wounds, Ponok heals 7 damage.[/dice]
Ponok seems invigorated by the healing touch of the new gnome and Edamm nods towards her. She then points at the recently dismounted goblin. "Ponok, Durere!" she says and takes a jab at the goblin herself. Ponok moves in and tries to savage the prone goblin.
- Shortsword: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
- Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
- includes +2 flank bonus
- Bite: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
- Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
- Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
- Damage: 1d2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
- Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
- Damage: 1d2 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Edamm, free action to command Ponok, Standard action to attack, 5 ft step. Ponok, 5 ft step, full attack.
Seeing her new companions handle the other goblins and knock the rider down into the floor in a hard-to-hit spot with her bow, she swiftly drops her bow, moves to flank with Tif and pulls out her longsword in the same motion. Once she reaches her destination, she slashes down at the prone goblin to hopefully finish it off if need be.
Attack; FE; Flank: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 5 + 2 = 25
Damage; FE: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
The leopard tears into the goblin, and Valerica finishes it off with a single stroke. Ponok bites into the goblin's throat and shakes it until its neck snaps.
"Is...is it safe?" The man slowly stands from behind the rain barrel, looking back and forth for any further sign of danger. "Are there any more? Is it safe?" His eyes land on the body of his hunting dog, and he quickly looks away.
He steps forward, giving the body of the goblin a wide berth and stopping in front of the group. "Ah, thank you, so much. Those things would have killed me if you hadn't come in when you did, that I do not doubt." He looks back and forth again, still nervous, though there doesn't seem to be any more goblins incoming. "My name is Aldern Foxglove. I'll be in town a few more days after this, and I'd like to reward you properly for saving my life. I'll be staying at the Rusty Dragon."
Aldern looks directly at Valerica, then, and says, "It would be an honor to get to know you better. Thank you, again."
He leaves quickly, going back in the direction of the cathedral where you came from, on the way passing by Sheriff Hemlock, immediately recognizable by his Shoanti heritage and his yellow cloak. The Sheriff looks to Aldern as the man passes, but doesn't pause for long. The Sheriff's armor is spattered with blood, but he himself seems uninjured, and his sword is on his belt.
With these goblins that lingered at the gate, the attack on Sandpoint has been resolved.
"Good work, again," Trig said absentmindedly as she stared off in the direction Aldern Foxglove had gone. The Rusty Dragon. She was going to have to figure out where that was. Trig had come along just in case, but it seemed like she had been unneeded asides from that large cat. Still, he said reward, and she helped.
Trig's eyes glanced towards the sheriff and she huffed. Turning away from the man, the Gnome started poking and prodding the rest of the group who were showing injuries. "Alright, speak up. Who's injured and where. Gods know where those goblins have been sticking their blades. Gods know they probably don't clean the blasted things." Trig spoke as she began her prodding. She kept her attention on the group. Last thing she needed was to upset the sheriff like she did the father.
Heal check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14
Tif shakes her head. "I'm good." She turns a does a quick search of each goblin, checking their weapons and for anything interesting, before dragging the bodies into a rough pile.
As the Sheriff walk up, she asks "Have all the goblins fled? There's a bunch of townfolk holed up in the new cathedral."
Edamm pats Ponok on the haunch and joins the group.
"Thank you miss," she says to the gnome. "and Ponok thanks you as well. We should recover from any further wounds we have but perhaps your talents would be able to help those in the cathedral.
Edamm returns to the goblin who was mounted and begins looking through its gear, making note of anything valuable.
Once she plunged her sword into the fallen goblin, Valerica quickly pulled it back up to wipe off any blood on it with a bit of her sleeve. She then slides it back into its holster along her hip and moves to grab her bow once more and sling it over her back.
As she was doing this, she wasn’t paying much attention to the clean-looking man who had just come to thank the group for their deeds, but it was when she finished hooking her bow to her back that she had managed to lock eyes with Aldern as he said his final words. For a moment, she felt her heart flutter at the good looking man, who she felt was speaking specifically to her. As he turned away, she shook her head, grumbling, ”That guy’s, uh....kinda weird, right? Or was that just me?”
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she keeps a mental note of going to the Rusty Dragon for later. Totally to just check it out. No other reason whatsoever. She needed a place to stay after all, right?
Shaking her head once more, she focuses on the current situation, replying to the gnome’s query: ”Nah, I’m alright. They didn’t even touch me. Didn’t know a lot of you knew how to speak their language though. Sounds all garbled to me. Anyways, glad I was able to help here. Feels good being able to show those things not to mess with us.”
The Sheriff nods to Tif. "Indeed, I was able to briefly speak to Father Zantus. He told me about what you did, and it seems I owe you my gratitude. I didn't get many of the details, I came this way to help if I could, but it seems you didn't need it." He shakes his head. "You shouldn't have had to help, but I'm glad you did. I only have a dozen men working for me full-time, and of those, only half were on duty, the rest were to work tonight, when we thought the biggest problem would be drunks." He shakes his head again.
"You're not from around here, I know that much. You have the look of adventurers, though, so if there's anything you want to take off the bodies of the goblins you killed, you have my permission. The rest will probably just be thrown in the dump or burned with the bodies. I would like to ask, though, you said, some of you could understand their speech? Did any of them say...anything, really, that could give an idea of what they were doing here?"
The leader has a masterwork horsechopper, a shortbow, and studded leather armor, all size Small, as well as a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds. The other goblins have piecemeal leather armor and dogslicers, knives made out of garbage and strapped together with strips of leather.
Wayland nods at Alden Foxglove, "Glad to help," then gives a half-smile as he sees the man's obvious interest in Valerica.
"Good work all," he says, retrieving his bolas once again. Be good to learn how to use these someday... Magic ain't limitless.
As the Sheriff explains the situation, Wayland raises a question. "What about tracking 'em down? See if any got back to their camp. See if any are hiding about town to poison our water or whatever. Use dogs, they hate dogs, don't they? As to what they wanted, I just heard their stupid songs. They like killing and maiming. Sadistic little things."
Went back and read and didn't see anything. Not sure if I missed a post - Wayland does speak Goblin.
Kitchel is of course happy to share what she knows. "Well, they didn't say why they were here, but they did say that they came through the gates. Which was a surprise. I'd expected that they had sneaked in somehow because I thought the gates would be covered. But if the guards weren't at the gates then that would explain it. Oh, and did you know that the ones I talked to were very rude! I guess it shouldn't be surprising, but if I hadn't been busy killing them I probably would have mentioned it to them as something to try to improve for the future."
Turning to Wayland when he makes his suggestion, Kitchel nods. "There's a mystery here that could use some poking into. I'd be happy to help track them down and figure it out. They didn't seem to be well organized and I'd be a bit surprised if they were able to plan a coordinated attack at the exact time of the ceremony in the festival on their own. If they got help it'd be good to figure out who it was. And then stop them!"
Tif thanks the Sheriff when he offers scrounging rights, and nods along as Kitchel talks.
She picks up and examines the goblin rider's weapon. "This is well made for a goblin weapon. Could be useful, once I clean it a little. I don't suppose anyone else wants it?" She wipes it on a goblin shirt, and tries a few experimental swings and jabs with it, before putting it away.
"There's a potion here too," - she sniffs at it, but offers it to Kitchel to identify - "and the bow and armor might be salvagable, although too small for most of you - the rest of it isn't worth it."
Don't think we checked the first lot of goblins? Tif will head back once we are finished here and see if the bodies have been cleared away yet.
"I don't disagree, but not now," Sheriff Hemlock says. "The sun will be going down soon, and there could still be goblins in the area. And you all have done quite a bit already."
He looks to the gate and frowns. "That shouldn't be open. How in the world..."
Returning to the square, the goblin bodies haven't been cleared away yet. There are some human bodies which have been carried to the stage and laid in a more dignified position. The goblins did manage to kill some of the townsfolk, but not as many as they might have managed if you hadn't been there. Indeed, there are occasionally people looking out from windows or cracked front doors, pointing at you as you go by.
Searching the warchanter turns up a Potion of Cure Light Wounds, a shortbow and a whip, both Small, and 20 gp. Between the rest of the goblins there is another 10 gp, but their gear is mostly garbage.
”Following tracks in the dark of night is certainly not something I’m much of a fan of, although I have no troubles in following any markings they may have made to lead us back to them. How many of these things were there tonight? We fought a good 15 or so, but I’m not sure about the rest of ‘em.”
Valerica tries thinking back on what she knows of any goblin tribes in the area that would be so bold as to raid Sandpoint which seems pretty well-protected.
Knowledge (Nature); FE: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
She turns to the Sheriff, saying, ”Sorry about these losses. I wish I could’ve been there to save them.”
Looking at the party then she says, ”Either way, I think we should take a walk around the town some, just to check and see if there’s any stragglers we can maybe interrogate. Goblins squeal real easy when under strong pressure.” She coughs, remembering something. ”Forgot in all of this excitement, but I’m Valerica. Might do us good to stick together here to find out exactly why this happened.”
"It's a surprisingly interesting language," Trig stated to Valerica's question about so many people speaking Goblin. That seemed to be all to her answer.
As Hemlock noted the position of the gate, Trig shook her head. "That's unacceptable, is what that is," the gnome said. Once she was done checking for wounds and was satisfied that everything would be fine, Trig walked to the gate and started to look for signs that the goblins had forced their way through it. She looked for signs of a battering ram, or perhaps footprints indicating one of the goblins had climbed over the gates to open it from the inside.
Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
Survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
"Yes, better to stay here tonight in case there's more trouble. A mob of goblins should be trackable tomorrow. If they did come in this gate, seems like this'd be the place to start looking."
Tif follows Trig over to investigate the area around the gate.
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
After examining the other bodies
"Another potion, another bow, a whip and some coin - looks to be 30 gold. 5 each, or we could give it to the families of the townfolk the goblins killed."
Trig and Kitchel find no signs that the gate had been forced. The bar on the inside is not in place. There isn't much to look at on the road itself, but checking off to the sides where the ground is softer, there aren't any goblin-sized footprints.
There are five notable goblin tribes in the Sandpoint Hinterlands region, but none of them have ever dared to mount an attack of this scale on Sandpoint.
The goblins you fought in the square and the goblins that were menacing Aldern Foxglove were geared and dressed differently. All of it considered suggests that there were goblins from more than one tribe present in this attack.
As time goes on, townsfolk approach you here and there, asking who you are that you would jump in to fight so readily, asking if you'll be staying in town long. Before the end of the night, a woman in bright clothes with darker skin and almond-shaped eyes approaches you, and introduces herself as Ameiko Kaijutsu, owner of the Rusty Dragon. "Not too many folks would leap into action the way you did. If you're still looking for a place to stay, I got some beds open at the Dragon for a few days, and a drink in exchange for a good story."
Edamm seems to come around now that the group has moved on from the sheriff. Ponok seems a little on edge as well, as if reading Edamm's body language around the man of authority. Edamm reassures the cat and tries to act friendly at those who approach her. When the woman in bright clothing makes her offer, Edamm turns to her.
Ameiko, it's a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for the generous offer. I can't speak for my fellow fighters but I could not stand by as those little creeps ran foul through the town.
Trig eyed Ameiko critically before nodding her head. "I suppose it might be rude to turn down such an offer," the gnome said while nodding. She had thought about trying to find the Fatman's Feedbag for a place to sleep for the night, but why not try somewhere else first?
"The name's Trig. Trig Fanabarellalisa. And I can't speak for them, but I can speak for me, and I say I'm feeling parched." Hunger. Trig tried to mentally chastise her familiar. Hunger wasn't an emotion. That was just silly. The feeling moved from her mind to her stomach and before she knew what was happening, her stomach growled. "Thirsty and hungry, apparently."
Tif shares a look with Kitchel, then also accepts Ameiko's offer for both of them.
"Thank you, yes, that will be nice. Kitchel and I came seeking the Sandpoint Devil, so it'd be bad if we couldn't take on some goblins. And we can't just stand by in such an attack. "
Knowledge (Local) DC 10: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Knowledge (Local) DC 20: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
"Ah, ya know, there are five tribes in the area. None of them ever done anything like this before, far as I've heard. But there were more than one tribe in the attack. Different clothes, different gear. So somebody has brought 'em together. But why? They didn't bring a big enough force to take the town even with the gates open. And they lost a lot of their own.
So, a distraction? For what? Or if it was somebody in the town who helped 'em, maybe looking to discredit the town leadership or ruin the Festival? In fact, that seems likely. Goblins can see in the dark, so why would they attack in daytime?"
He tells Sheriff Hemlock, "We need every villager with a dog to get to work hunting around the town tomorrow. And keep guards on the wells. You find any goblins, you come get us."
When Ameiko approaches, Wayland tips his hat. "Thank ya. I've got stories a-plenty to tell. And maybe you can tell me one too, about who in this town might have a problem with how things are run."
Ameiko nods and smiles a little. "Whenever you want to come by, there'll be food and drink. I don't think it'll be quite as busy tonight as I expected. What's say we share stories back at the Dragon, yeah?"
The Rusty Dragon is an older building, three stories tall. Perched on the roof is an intricate (and quite rusty) iron dragon, though the details are hard to make out as it gets dark. Inside, the mood is dour. One in three seats are filled. A couple hours after the goblin attack, people are trying to take comfort in the normal, nursing beers quietly. Ameiko gestures for you to take a seat at the bar while she gets to work.
At hearing Wayland's theory about the attacks, she frowns. "Gods, that's terrible. How can you even say something like that? I can't think of anyone who would--eugh. And you two--" She looks at Kitchel and Tif. "Hunting the Devil, huh? Might have some trouble hunting a folk story."
Edamm takes a seat at the bar with the rest of the new heroes. Hearing mention of this Devil, she seems a little unsure what they mean.
"Pardon me, what is this Devil you speak of? Surely there are no devils out here in this quiet little town. And why would you actively hunt for such devils?"
Edamm reaches down as if to rest her hand on Ponok's head, to reassure the two of them, but then she realizes that the cat had to stay outside and she thinks to herself.
I can understand some are not comfortable with an animal inside, but I wish people would see how peaceful he is.
If no one else wants the potion of cure light, Edamm will take it.
Kitchel pokes around in the places that the others do, making her way from the gate to the bodies to the square, always in motion. When Tif speaks she nods in agreement and when given the chance she introduces herself to her fellow defenders of Sandpoint. At one point, when she sees that the gnome is off a bit by herself and not being watched by anyone in particular, Kitchel wanders over and starts talking. "I didn't want to draw attention to it in case you don't like others to notice, but did you know that when you were healing Ponok back in that battle you started to glow with some sort of light? I suspect it was a connection to some sort of supernatural force, but I was wondering if you could tell me more? What does it feel like? Do you do it often? Or, wait, is this something that you'd rather not talk about? I'd hate to be as rude as a goblin. Speaking of which, it's handy that you can speak their language as well! Maybe if we keep working together we can use it pass information to each other if we need to keep others from knowing our plans! I do like making plans!"
After arriving at the Rusty Dragon, Kitchel takes in the scene, while listening to the conversation. When Edamm asks about the Sandpoint Devil Kitchel speaks up seemingly without even paying much attention as her eyes dart around the new location. "The Sandpoint Devil. It's a local folk story as Ameiko here says, but folk stories and rumors are sometimes grounded in some truth. Given that we live in a world where aberrations and abominations do run loose on occasion, Tif and I made our way here to see if we could poke around and find any leads that might lead to one of them here. We know that it's probably a wild goose chase, but in case it isn't, think of the good we could do by tracking it down!"
Turning her head to look at Ameiko Kitchel pauses briefly and looks thoughtful. "If the Sandpoint Devil is just a folk tale then what are the dangerous things about here? Like Wayland says, something's almost certainly driving those goblins to act like this and I'm expecting that we'll have a part in getting to the bottom of that. Is there anything more tangible in your experience that we should be wary of than stories told to frighten children at night?"
"Goblins, wild animals, every so often something'll drag itself out of the ocean or the moors." Ameiko taps the bar sharply. "Look, I get it. Sometimes you just want to look for trouble, I used to be the same way." However she speaks, Ameiko is not very old, maybe a little older than Wayland at best. "If today really wasn't enough trouble for you, take a look at that, there."
She points out a 'Help Wanted' sign posted on the wall of the tavern. There are a few papers posted right now, mostly along the lines of hunting an animal menacing the farm outlying Sandpoint, retrieving a lost item, and one particularly lovingly-drawn picture of a pair of disembodied, bloody goblin ears and a standing bounty from the owner of the Goblin Squash Stables.
At Kitchel's question, Trig looked the Ratfolk over critically. The scowl on her face softened slightly, though she still looked displeased. "It's just something that happens. I don't know how it works, yet, and I'm still not very good at it. Trig paused for a moment. "Also, I don't care for the attention it attracts, so it's really annoying that it happens at all. Maybe I should get a hat. But plans, yeah, plans sounds... good." Trig ended awkwardly.
At the Rusty Dragon, Trig sat near enough to be with the group of "heroes." She partook in whatever Ameiko was willing to put in front of them, not picky after the incident with that hagfish. Norah, was her name? Trig felt her throat tighten just thinking about it. Disappointment. Her permanent scowl deepened at Cal's emotion. If he wanted it so bad, he'd have to sneak over there without her.
Between her thoughts and her emotional sparring with the cockroach, she did pay attention to the discussion. Devils. Goblins. Animals. Maybe Magnimar was better. Magnimar was probably better. "Really seems like the town could use a group like you folk. The Sheriff should be paying you for your work." Trig mentioned off-handed between drinks.
Wayland looks at the poster from the Goblin Squash Stables. "A bounty, eh? Maybe we can collect. I bet somebody grabbed all the ears off the ones we killed. Well, probably only a few silvers, but we might pay him a visit tomorrow and find out. Could be we'll find more goblins hidin' around."
He replies to Ameiko. "I'm sorry I have to raise the question. Truly. But if it were goblins planning the attack, they'd have done the deed in the middle of the night, not sunset. They're cunning and cowardly. Unless their shamans said they had to disrupt the consecration ceremony. Can't think of why, but it's the only possibility that don't point to a day-timer's involvement. Still, if it was a day-timer, maybe not a Sandpoint native. Maybe someone from elsewhere that has a grievance against the town? And who happened to be here today to make sure the gates were open."
He ruminates. "I don't like taking prisoners and making 'em talk, but maybe that's what we have to do next time we see a gobbo. Nasty business."
Valerica had been sitting quietly in the Rusty Dragon with her new companions, sipping a drink as they discussed the Devil and the goblins and such. She wasn’t used to talking so much in one day, and she already felt mentally exhausted from it. The conversations somewhat flew by her as she kept an eye out for that noble man, who said he’d be within the Rusty Dragon. Not that she’d ever admit to such a thing.
When she heard Trig speak about payment though, she grumbled, ”I don’t need payment to help protect people from those menaces. All of ‘em deserve a quick death, honestly.”
She then leans forward and nods at Wayland’s assessment of the situation. ”Yeah. Something’s wrong with this picture. Just got no leads at the moment, which is why finding a goblin and interrogating them makes the most sense. They’re cowardly creatures. One of ‘em would spill the beans easily.”
”Say...Ameiko, was it? Do you know an Aldern Foxglove...or somethin’ like that? He said he’d be staying here and well...he, uh, said he’d give us a reward so...yeah..” As she says this, she tries to hide her face, completely embarrassed at bringing this up.
Edamm sips at her drink, clearly as uncomfortable as others are currently, but she tries to relax and settle into her usual pattern of discovering if these new locals are dangerous to her and Ponok.
"I agree with Valerica and Wayland, though I can't say I know much about goblins. The caravans encountered them occasionally but usually just disposed of them and moved on. Ponok and I are used to tracking things through the woods, so I will lend a hand in this search if you want the assistance."
She then leans over to Valerica and smiles.
"I don't necessarily need to be paid to help, but anything these people wish to give is still appreciated. On the road we take what we can find, when we can find it."
"Really seems like the town could use a group like you folk. The Sheriff should be paying you for your work." Trig mentioned off-handed between drinks.
" Us folk, you mean. I recall you were there too, poking at the gobs and healing too. "
" We're weren't about to sit idly about when there's goblins attacking around us. Making money is important too though. I reckon bounty guy might not have the cash though - probably expecting only occasional ears from people coming across goblins in the wilderness, not a whole bunch descending on town all at once. The other two might be profitable though. "
She goes over to inspect the notices more closely.
Ameiko continues to look sourly toward Wayland. "Goblins are stupid. Everyone knows that. They probably didn't think too much about what they were doing at all. Bethana!" she calls out, to an elderly halfling woman sweeping floors and serving drinks to other patrons. Ameiko says something in an unfamiliar language, which Trig recognizes as the halfling tongue, mentioning the name 'Foxglove.' After Bethana replies back, Ameiko turns to Valerica. "He's staying here. Apparently got back here before us, went straight to his room with instructions to not disturb him for the night." Then, as though to avoid engaging with Wayland any further, she walks away to help her other patrons.
On the notice board, the most promising is from a couple of farmers on the outskirts of Sandpoint. Here and there livestock have been found dead with claw and bite wounds, and they'll pay a reward of 50 gp to whoever can bring proof of the creature's death.
"Sure, they are evil little creatures, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be compensated for your work,"[b] Trig responded to Valerica, nodding and raising her glass as Edamm seems to have the same thoughts. [b]"Nobody should be expected to work for free, no matter how noble the cost. S'not how the world works."
Trig shrugged in response to Tif's statement. "I couldn't well let you folks die out there. Wouldn't be right."
The gnome listened to the exchange between Ameiko and Bethana. "I suppose that means we'll be here for the night, at least. I'm sure Mr. Foxglove won't feel any less generous in the morning, should we be so lucky."
Kitchel stifles a yawn as she watches and listens. Her ears have lost a little of their perk and the adrenaline that she seems to run on most of the time seems to be running a bit low. She sips her drink and nibbles at the food as she watches Tif go check out the board and then report what she's found. "I hate to be the first to crash for the night, and it was lovely working with all of you, fighters, archers, healers and all! Such an unexpectedly skilled group that came together for a common goal! I'm feeling the day catching up with me now though. The festival and the goblins and then more goblins! The investigating and everything. It's been a very stimulating day and I think the same will be true tomorrow.
"I'm going to head off to bed, but what say we agree to meet here for breakfast tomorrow and make a plan! We can talk to Aldern Foxglove and the Sheriff and see what they have to say about the goblins. Even if they aren't worth chasing I think that beast attacking the farm could be interesting."
She pauses again, and this time her yawn escapes unstifled. "In any case, I'm going to do us all much more good after I get some sleep."
"Could be the devil!"
Tiff yawns as well. "..or probably just a wolf. 50 gold is worth killing a wolf for. I'm also going to turn in, I think. See you all in the morning."
Edamm takes a cue from the ratfolk and turns to Ameiko.
"Thank you for the drinks Miss Kaijutsu. And for the offer of hospitality. Perhaps tomorrow I may take the offer if it is still available, but tonight I should return to the Fatman's Feedbag if for no reason to collect my things."
Turning back to the others again.
"I shall return here early tomorrow if we would wish to investigate these goblins more. Or perhaps we can find this wolf. Goodnight."
"I'll stay up a bit longer. Might go for a walk outside and make sure there's not anymore goblins leftover, just in case. I'll...uh, I'll see you all tomorrow then? It'd be good to have company for once on a hunt. I think looking for tracks should be easy if Edamm and I are good at it. I'd be fine with the wolf as well, if we wanted," Valerica says, getting up and finishing the last of her drink. She grabs her bow, and heads outside to take one last look around the town for any trouble.
After a good amount of time (and confirming no other troubles), she will also be heading to sleep in the Rusty Dragon if Ameiko had prepared a room for her.
Trig cast Edamm a sidelong glance at the mention of the Feedbag before returning to her drink. "I suppose we'll see you in the morning, then." One last pull from her mug and she put it down. "I will also be excusing myself. I'll let you know if I'm feeling up to going on some wild goose chase with you folks in the morning. Good night." A small nod of thanks, and she was off to her room.
"I think sniffing out any goblins hiding in town is good, like Valerica says. We need to make one talk. But if we can't find none, then the wolf."
Wayland also heads off to bed.
Valerica doesn't encounter any trouble, but during her walk, it starts to rain.
Then, it starts to pour. The roads are left slick with mud and the alleys are almost impassible, and as Valerica returns to the Dragon, soaked to the skin, the air flashes, and with a series of rapid pop-pop-pop sounds, lightning strikes the statue on the roof of the building.
Edamm is stepping into the Fatman's Feedbag just as the rainstorm is kicking up. Ponok steps in behind her to get out of the rain--though the bartender, a massive man with the face of a thug, objects, he's quickly distracted when one of the windows flies open, then when one of the patrons throws a shot glass in his direction, narrowly missing. Despite the events of the day, business goes on as usual in the roughest bar in Sandpoint.
The lanky, greasy-looking Varisian who always seems to be around here is sat at the bar. As Edamm walks past him, Jubrayl Vhiski says, "Tonight's the sort of night for dark deeds, hm?" and continues nursing his drink.
It storms through the night, and even in the morning it continues to rain lightly. First thing in the morning you are met by a man garbed in yellow robes, wearing a pendant in the shape of a sun. His posture is tilted and his back seems twisted from deformity, and it gives him a sinister-looking gait. Nevertheless his attitude is deferential. "Scuse, me, I'm here on the request of Father Zantus. There's a bit of somethin' strange at the old Boneyard. T'be honest, I think there might be a goblin that got locked in one of the vaults and now it's makin' a racket. The Sheriff's a little busy with everything else, and if you'd be willing to take a look in the vault you'd be paid for your time."
untrained Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Tif starts a little at the first sight of the man, but quickly regains composure as he speaks.
I wonder if he is also cursed by aberrant blood?
"Yes, of course, we'll come at once. This is good news, if we can catch a goblin alive we might be able to find out why they attacked. Oh, we should head past the Feedbag on our way, one of our companions was staying there."
As if on cue, Edamm enters the Rusty Dragon, leaving Ponok outside for the time being. Catching the elbow of a passing servant she asks for something and then approaches Tif.
"Good morning." she says. "Quite a storm last night, that may make tracking the goblins more difficult, but Ponok may be able to pick up something of a trail if we have some luck.
Eventually, if the servant returns with the small helping of raw meat Edamm asked for, she will thank the servant and set it aside for the moment.
The man left Trig with a cocked eyebrow and her ever-present scowl deep. "And just who are you to come to us with errands?" She pursed her lips as one of the Ratfolk already agreed. Bah. She studied the man carefully, arms crossed, and paid careful attention to his words.
Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25
Wayland is a bit late coming down as he was preparing his spells. Assuming he is caught up...
"It's a job offer, Trig, not an order. Chance to make some coin. You don't have to take it. I'll go, mister. We need to catch us a goblin anyway.
Before we do that, I'd like to make the rounds with Edamm and her cat, just in case they can track anything. And we need the Sheriff to get every villager with a dog to take 'em for a walk around town also."
Kitchel seems much refreshed from the sleep as joins the group in the common room in the morning. With friendly chatter to the others as they come she goes through a whole host of topics to whoever will listen (and sometimes almost to herself as if talking out loud helps her think.) She speculates about the notice from the farmers and whether it might be a wolf or something more dangerous, notes how the rain last night might have washed away some tracks and whether there will be more, wonders where Aldern Foxglove might be and what he might have in mind for a reward, puzzles over the gate being left open and whether someone in Sandpoint might be organizing a plot against the city. By the time the man in the yellow robes arrives Kitchel is ready to be out, looking for answers to, well, something.
"The boneyard? That's a delightfully spooky name. I assume that's the local cemetery? It'd be a pretty literal description I suppose. I think that seeing what's going on there could be exciting. If it's a goblin that could be helpful if we could ask a question or two, though that one from earlier really was so rude. Even so, information from the horse's mouth, well, goblin's mouth, is nothing to sneeze at. And if it's something more sinister that would need checking out too! Can't have the town which just went through a goblin attack need to deal with the dead wandering around willy-nilly or something like that. The name's Kitchel! What should I call you?"
Kitchel sticks her paw out for the human to shake, nose twitching a bit as she watches his reaction to her greeting.