The doll becomes the boy, who throws an arm around the “thief”. "Oh little warrior, your family’s free. The inn is yours. But tell me, what dramas did these ruffians enact within these walls?"
He looks Samen in the eye, continuing. "And how did they insert themselves into your life?"
He pulls out the healing wand and begins healing his comrades and himself.
Without sheathing his rapier, Klaytal nods at Birne’s words. ”I think that’s something we’d all like to know.”
The boy nods solemnly at Birne and Klaytal. That's what I thought, you're heroes… but I had to be sure.
He will tell you Kanik and Henrietta came one day and locked his family in the inn's basement, and began running the establishment as their own and turning it into a den of thieves and intrigue. Kanik let Henrietta the Kind run the inn's day-to-day operations; she forced the young boy his six sisters to do all the worst chores, all day long. The boy was stealing gold for food money, as Henrietta refused to feed the children and instead spent her days beating the starving children and laughing at them.
He picks up the flog. What're you gonna do with Henrietta? I think she should be whipped… an' should do all the inn's worst chores herself — to the end of her days!
----
Gorgo looks at Samen. Kanik killed my old boss and said that's how it goes, winner take all. He rubs his head. So what now, boss?
Is that so?
"Out of curiosity, Gorgo, who was your old boss?"
Gorgo rubs his head in consternation. Should I be telllin' these things roun' your friends?
"The Prince will want to know we’ve found some leads upon our next return. I know a soul whom we may trust to scary upon our future queen."
His friends know he doesn’t trust the queen or prince with the knowledge of Lumi’s whereabouts.
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"Well, Gorgo, I have a new task for you now. I would like you to stay here and guard this young man and his family. I want them running the inn, and I want you to stop anyone else from taking it from them."
”Is this the kind of inn that serves drinks? Can we get a round or something? We did just risk our lives after all to save this place, and I know I for one am quite parched to say the least. Is that something you can help us with, Gorgo, now that you’re in charge?”
The ghosts all chatter excitedly about what a good idea this is.
"Ah, no, Gateau. Friend Gorgo’s now the guard. He’ll bounce but this good lad and his most kindly ma and pa’ll run the show." The boy winks reassuringly at his new friend. "What name would you prefer we use?"
The boy's name is Delly.
His family, being freed, are more than happy to give you all the free drinks you want — as well as lodgings — for the rest of your days. The father, a frail older man, grins at your party. We should rename the inn in your honors. What do you think? The Cracked Kanik?
Speaking of, you can get Kanik's gear:
There is a flask labeled elixir of true healing, a potion, a magical rapier, a mithral shirt, an amulet, and a cloak, and a masterwork violin strung with magical strings.
The Boy can easily identify the potion as Remove Disease, the the mithral shirt as a +1 mithral chain shirt, the amulet as an Amulet of Natural Armor +1, and the cloak as a CLoak of resistance +1.
I will need spellcraft checks for the others (flask, rapier, strings).
----
Kanik is unconscious but stable. What do you wish to do with the roguish villain?
The flask is cursed; it's a Flask of Curses
The rapier is a +1 Human Bane rapier.
The Boy doesn't get the spellcraft on the strings, but they sound lovely whenever an object is run against them — even if it's a melee weapon.
Delly looks at your group. What're you gonna do with Kanik? Take him to the jail?
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"Something like that. Tell me, if it were up to you, what would become of him?"
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The father nods at Samen. Well, sir, a neer-do-well as fancy as that one? Nothing worse than public humiliation — maybe a trip to the stocks after a trial. That said, sir, I defer to my betters, I do so, sir. Do with him what you think best — we're just grateful to have the inn back.
"Hm. Well I'm no-one's better, sir, but would beg of you the use of your basement for a private conversation with him, before taking him off to his just reward." Samen makes eye contact with his friends as he says the word 'private'.
I have personal business with this one. Please indulge me.
Of course, sir!
Klaytal pauses, "Samen; you knew this man? How did you interact with him? Why were you supposed to abduct Birne and bring him to Kanik??"
Klayal gapes his mouth a bit, then steps back as he shuts it.
Hesperance cackles: Oh, darling, this is delightfully juicy! The entourage watches with rapt attention!
Samen glares at Klaytal after his outburst. "I'm sorry to trouble you, Klaytal, but perhaps now is not the time for this discussion."
With that, Samen will drag the unconscious Kanik unceremoniously to the basement door, closing it behind him. You can hear the thump-thump-thump of an body being dragged down the stairs, fading with distance as it descends.
"Oh, lamb, if you but knew. It wasn't trust and niceties that made me what I am. Tis simply this: A tod, he knows a vixen from a hound."
The boy gives Gate a playful poke in the ribs with the wand. "Tis but a lark, Gateau. We speak of your great manliness. Our envy at your mass of chesty hair."
It's eerily quiet. Long minutes later, Samen comes upstairs… alone.
”So did you...?”
Gate draws a thumb across his throat.
As he arrives back from the basement, Klaytal looks expectantly at Samen.
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"For me, I'm glad the scaredy cat's become a lion true." The boy switches back to the common tongue, winking at the elf.
"Dear brother, what's the news? Have you some clues or just the cloying taste of sweet revenge?"
"I have no taste for such things, and thus it lingers sour on the tongue. Our friend downstairs proved uncooperative -- unsurprising, if disappointing. Sadly though, he proved surprisingly foolish as well, and I was forced into rather decisive action when he attempted to overcome me with his magic."
"You could have sought my help. My songs do loose the lips of even stubborn men. Ah well. We’re done with him. I hope you didn’t leave a mess for our new friends."
I hope you didn’t leave a mess for our new friends
Delly, the boy you saved, giggles from behind a table where he's been hiding: That's what Henrietta's for! He then puts his hands on his mouth and runs out.
”Hm. I’ve known some wily bandits in my time. Sorcerers even worse.. sometimes you do what you have to do. Well.. Samen I’m not going to lie. I worried you didn’t come
up in time through the bubble because something happened to you, but given al this I can only fear there is much more going on than I know. However, I worry about delaying any longer given we have a princess to save.”
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”Oh, that’s right, a princess. I’d gotten so caught up in this tale of two brothers that I’d entirely forgotten there was a princess to save. Shall we carry on with that then? Perhaps check in at the castle and see what the queen and the prince have to say? I’m sure they would like an update at the least.”
"The Prince will want to know we’ve found some leads upon our next return. I know a soul whom we may trust to scary upon our future queen."
On the way to the castle, Birne recalls the name of a local diviner. Tiikeri Muurari runs a shop called the Seven Ravens. He sells keys for every possible occasion: physical, metaphysical, or astrological.
Muurari stands behind a table, in his trademark red-and-gold trimmed hooded robes, fine leather gloves, and wire-framed glasses.
He's surrounded by a wall full of hanging keys: keys of brass, keys of copper, keys of gold, keys of fishbone, rusted keys, shining keys, four-sided keys, no-sided keys, skeleton keys, paracentric keys, watchman's keys, royal keys, and many more.
----
Ahhh, you wish to the finding of a fair maiden! He caresses the lock of hair as he speaks. I can help. Have you anything to offer in trade? I am but a simple diviner, with no easy means to the fine components so deserved by so fine a maiden, I am sure.
"My guardian — this solemn fellow who’s called Monsieur de Einbetten — has offers you shall find most fair. If you would scry upon our lass and share the memory with me."
Samen hides his annoyance at Birne well, though it's no doubt assumed. "Indeed sir, for what could be of more value for a wise man such as yourself than the gratitude of those in power?"
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I've found the gratitude of those in power rather paltry. A wry smile. But of course you needn't take my word for it! Try their appreciation for yourself!
He pauses. Nevertheless, you are here with me and not among your benefactors-in-power. And you are here invoking the "gratitude" of those in "power."
I theorize, Sir, that one of three things is true. One: the gratitude of these persons in power is nonexistent, and that I will never see recompense for my efforts. Two: their gratitude is yearned for by you, but still abstract — meaning that any transaction between us would then also be paid in the abstract, thereby transferring your own yearning to me. Three: you are all scoundrels, trying to flimflam me.
I am but a mere merchant of rusty keys. While my success hinges upon my pragmatism, perhaps you can prove all of my jaded hypothesis wrong. How? By providing subsidy in the form of gold or valuable items (at a market-value exchange rate, with standard service fees and Klavakian tax).
In doing so, Sir, you would validate the notion that you enjoy the gratitude of those in power (and after all, those in power always have funds); further, such an act would authenticate you as upstanding citizens and not persons attempting to cheat a hapless merchant with empty promises!
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"I assure you, sir, that we have no wish to cheat anyone. However, we are but humble servants of humble means, on a time-sensitive mission of import. I understand your desire for fair compensation, and you are right to ask for such. I ask you to consider our situation, however." Samen shoots a glance at Birne as he talks, trying to make another meaning clear.
The boy’s smile gleams. "Monsieur, of course you’re right. I have but little coin but let us see...." He makes a show of looking through his coin purse.
"Ah, yes, a gem that sparkles like milady’s teeth. Enough to seal a pact: your aid, your memory, and never speak of this. Agreed?"
Klaytal shows a faint smile as he listens to the two brothers banter.
I am glad that our conversation has evolved to mutual profit. Discretion is my watchword.
I do not believe in keeping my audience waiting with bated breath; such theatrical conduct is best reserved for mountebanks in the taverns. On with the work.
Tiikeri goes into his back room, and comes out several minutes later. He gives you the news in a brisk manner.
I have found her. Your maiden is unharmed.
She is deep in the Haunted Forest. I could not discern her exact location for, as I am sure you know, that mysterious place twists with fey magic, confounding even the most competent minds. While I am both capable and astute, I am not ashamed to say that even I lack the facility to pinpoint lost objects in the heart of the forest.
He puts a crystal ball on the table. I give you this: you can see what I have seen if you look into the crystal. Perhaps it will help you recognize your goal, and this maiden's captors… should you decide to brave that place.
The vision shifts: a dark forest covered in still-falling snow. In a clearing is a little cabin; its steep-pitched roofs keep the snow from piling too high and icicles hang from the eaves. Warm light dances in the round windows, and a merry trail of smoke puffs from the chimney.
Six very short figures, their backs turned to you, come up the path to the door. A seventh opens the door to greet them. He's got a long beard and is wearing a dark blue nightgown and yellow sleeping-cap. He yawns.
The crystal ball returns to its normal, misty blue. The vision has ended.
Samen peers into the orb, searching for useful details. "Seven short figures in a snowy cabin. I'm afraid I can't pick out much more of use than that."
”So she’s safe then, is that it? We just need to pick her up?”
"I they’re short folk from the north. How strange. She seems to be at peace. I say let’s find her ere we tell the prince. He’s always quick to shout when satisfaction is delayed."
On the way out of the shop, Birne notices a woman dressed like an inconspicuous peasant looking at you. She whispers into her cupped palm and then a pale bird flutters out of it, towards the castle.
Seeing that she's spotted, she grins and winks at him (although not in a very friendly way), before vanishing into the shadows of an alleyway.
Klaytal shudders upon hearing about the Haunted Forest. "What a dreadful place. As much as I dislike going in there, I fear even more about anyone being trapped inside. We must make all haste now that we have a general understanding of her location. It will be very difficult to navigate in there, but if we hire strong horses I believe we can cover decent ground."
You buy horses — some fine jutlands. They are mostly used for labor around here and are not combat trained. Birne spots another person spying on you along the way.
As you make your way towards the Main Gate, a group of men approach you from a nearby cross-street.
Several of these men have truncheons drawn. Leavin' so soon, me pretties, with nary a word to 'is higness? He looks meaningfully at your horses. An' leavin' quickly, I see. In a hurry?
He turns to a comrade. 'Tis rude, ain't it? To spurn one's employer so? To flee town on horseback, flouting one's duty and one's country — in the middle o' the morning, no less? Dissrespectful, I say. Treason, I say. He turns to a enormous man with a bullet-shaped head. What do you think, Burg?
The man laughs and spits on the ground. What if they's not runnin,' Marcus, but in league with them Ragamuffins? Might be 'Muffins theyselves. I seen one o' them with them coins.
The leader ruefully shakes his head. Nah. We're to bring 'em to the palace. He sighs. Much as I'd love to beat this lot and bury 'em in a ditch, 'is highness said they's to report to 'im first, even if they'se actin' suspicious-like.
The boy calls from his pony,
"Good sirs, we've cause to hurry toward our mission's end. The fowl is liable to fly the coop if we should wait a moment more. Would Prince Ruhtin look kindly 'pon obedience if it resulted in his love's demise? I daresay he'd demote us all, or separate our limbs toward all the compass points."
"And indeed, we were instructed to make all haste, stopping for nothing until we had completed our charge. His highness would not wish us to delay, even to report. How do you think he'll feel if you delay us further?"