"Urm ... H'yeah, no, we don't have'ne regular entertainment," Tomas says with a glance over his shoulder at a female halfling that's cleaning mugs behind the bar. She looks up at him at the same time and narrows her eyes slightly at Pai. "What di'ya have in mind?" he asks, looking back. His smile falters slightly under the other halfling's gaze.
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Pai looks back and forth between the proprietor and the woman now shooting daggers from her eyes at her.
"Oh gods! Nothing like that! I am a gnome of respect and station thank you." She smiles across the bar at the woman now buffing a tankard with more vigor than truly necessary. "No disrespect to you ma'am. I am sure he is a fine man. But I prefer them to be taller than me!" She lays a hand on Rory's forearm, and allows the implication to stand without clarification.
"I was simply proposing the standard pub/entertainer arrangement. We perform for our supper and lodging to bring in the patrons that might decide to stay home tonight otherwise. Any tips we make you get a fair cut of, say 10%. That is of course on top of what the extra traffic's patronage nets you in mead and food. If the arrangement works out to both of our benefits then it becomes a more regular thing, so long as we are available."
The halfling seems relieved at Pai's association with Rory and his grin returns. "H'yeah'n I don't know'f you're gonna bring any more folk in, but you're more'n welcome to play or sing or some such." He glances back at the woman at the bar. "Ya'can even keep any tips," he says in a quieter voice, turning back to the gnome. "Though folks 'round here don't gots lots'a coin ta throw 'round."
As they eat dinner, Tygrah sidles closer to Ashlion. "So far, this place seems like a good home. Perhaps soon we can start working on making our family. I am looking forward to bearing you many strong sons and daughters, husband!"
Rory leans over and kisses Pai on the top of her head. ”It is a wet day outside, and this place is warm, with wonderful-smelling food. That and the new arrivals from the ship should expand the crowd,” he offers.
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As they eat dinner, Tygrah sidles closer to Ashlion. "So far, this place seems like a good home. Perhaps soon we can start working on making our family. I am looking forward to bearing you many strong sons and daughters, husband!"
"AS LONG AS DAUGHTERS ARE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THEIR MOTHER, AND SONS AS TALL THEN I AM HAPPY!" Ashlion replies, tearing off another huge mouthful of bread and washing it down with a large swig of ale. "WE WILL RAISE STRONG FAMILY HERE. SHALL WE GO UPSTAIRS?"
He swings off the bench and offers his hand to Tygrah before heading for the stairs, which creak under his sheer bulk!
"Sounds like a deal then. The meal and the room are free. I appreciate you waiving your cut of any tips we take in. You might be suprised how generous people become when they hear my voice."
Pai returns to her seat and enjoys a quick repast with the party before preparing for her performance.
"Sounds like a deal then. The meal and the room are free. I appreciate you waiving your cut of any tips we take in. You might be suprised how generous people become when they hear my voice."
Pai returns to her seat and enjoys a quick repast with the party before preparing for her performance.
Yolar walks up to the table where his former ship mates are sitting. "Do you mind if I join you?", he says as he pulls out a chair to sit. He has a large mug of ale...he takes a drink and some of it trickles down his beard. He absently wipes it away.
"I look forward to your performance, Pai. I am curious though...why come to a small, out-of-the-way place like this looking for work? No disrespect, of course..."
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After a quick bite, Pai heads towards a darker corner of the room. A pair of floor sconces stand above her, sending cones of light up onto the ceiling.
The chatter in the hall continues to ebb and flow. From her position it seems like it is almost louder.
-
Nerves clench her vocal cords like a vice. She opens her mouth to sing, but nothing more than a squeak exits. A harsh rasping sound as her voice breaks. A pair of dwarves at one of the tables towards the front laugh discourteously.
Okay, come on Pai...you've got this.
She takes a deep breath and marches to the table of dwarves. Grabbing one of the mugs of ale from the table, she smiles. "Need some lubricant, you don't mind do you?"
Throwing the tankard back, she gulps down the ale without a breath. She then heads back up to her position, and with a nod to Rory begins her melody.
-
The child of loss, the babe...abandoned, Listen and hear.
Long ago, in a mountain away; the child was found by Irorans tre.
They found him alone, upon their entry; Alone in the cold, with none standing sentry.
Adopted by the temple, they raised him with forethought; He grew in perfection, he grew as he was taught."
Behind the left brazier, Rory steps into the light. The brazier accentuates his toned musculature and the sharp symmetry in his face and limbs. He falls easily into the first stance of his performance, standing with arms akimbo and feet should width apart. At the right brazier, a form of light appears in the shape of a man of the same height. The light-man takes the same stance, also facing the crowd.
"As he grew, the monks were astounded; the resemblance was striking, to the Master to which they were founded."
The light-man, without leaving the stance, floats to the left and behind Rory, outlining him in a golden blue light.
"Listen and hear."
"The tale from afar, Listen and hear.
The child of promise, the student...disappointed. Listen and hear.
In the mountain away, he grew and he trained; but his forms were unfit, as if his limbs were chained."
Turning to the right, Rory steps into the first Kata of the Ballad, two quick punches followed by a low block and an attempt at a spinning kick. As he spins his legs tangle and he stumbles, kneeling with a fist to the ground. The light-man turns and its head shakes in apparent disappointment.
- To the practiced eye it is obvious that the failed kick is part of the act, an intentional stumble on Rory's part.
"In the mountain away, he grew and he studied; but the fruits were unripened, his mind it was muddied."
Standing from his kneeling position, Rory shows forth a holy symbol of Irori while a book appears from within his robes in his other hand. It is opened in the attitude of reading, but those near the front can see the cover and if knowledge able about the holy words can identify it as 'Unbinding the Fetters', the holy text of Irorans.
After brandishing the symbol feverantly several times, Rory's face falls, accepting defeat. The arms of the light man cross over its chest and its head again shakes with disappointment.
"Listen and hear."
"The tale from afar. Listen and hear.
Power gifted, purpose...discovered. Listen and hear."
It came in the night, a vision of perfection; The Master of Masters, came and provided direction."
Apparently giving up on his studies, Rory lays down in frustration. After a few moments the light-man floats to stand above him. Rory sits up, blinking with bleary eyes.
"Iro-shu, the perfected being; appeared to our boy and gave knowledge and seeing."
The light-man breaks into four separate motes that float around Rory's head. As he reaches for each one and makes a show of storing it within his vest the lights wink out.
"Listen and hear."
"The tale from afar. Listen and hear.
Study completed, Journeys began. Listen and hear."
The student of history, the student of art; accepted the challenge, and took power from the dart.
The student of perfection, the student of enlightenment; received the call, and accepted the empowerment."
As the verses come to a close, Rory again returns to his Katas. He completes the spin kick from before successful, and as he comes out of it a look of concentration crosses his face as his left hand glows blue. A glass of wine from a table towards the front lifts off the table and floats towards the makeshift stage, where it sets down upon the edge.
With a high block and an uppercut, Rory's right hand also begins to glow with a green color. A triangle shape of green energy appears in his hand and with a flourish he sends it flying over the gathered crowd and into the night sky.
"Listen and hear. The tale from afar. A man gifted power of the green star. Listen and hear.
The tale is done for now, until the story we rejoin; We will tell you more, but for now we accept your coin."
Pai and Rory come to the center of the stage to accept the applause that is offered with a bow. Any coin that is offered is quickly stowed.
***
There is a smile upon Pai's face as she stands from her bow. "Thank you, thank you. We are new to your community, just sailed in today. My name is Pai Throphentomp and in the past I have made my way in the world by spreading the joy of song and story telling. My friend is Rory of the Tiger Eye Monastery and that was The Ballad of the Emerald Shuriken. It is a composition of my own making, based on the story of his childhood in the monastery."
Rory takes another bow to the additional applause before going to rejoin the party.
"Now, if there are any requests I would be happy to sing again. Any well known song or story I assure you I know, or can make up. And if you have a new story to share with me please come buy me a drink. Who knows, perhaps it will be the basis of the next great song!"
Before he knows what he is doing Yolar stands up and claps as the performance ends...laughing a bit a the wonderful performance. When Pai and Rory return to the table he thanks them for their performance and tips a gold piece.
"I came looking for peace and perhaps solitude, but I must admit...I am having a grand time in your company.", he says as he bows his head slightly towards the performers.
"Thank you kindly, Yolar. Pai is quite talented, although she does have a bit of a penchant for exaggeration," Rory quips, smiling at her. "Still, if she can make my life story sound entertaining, she can do anything!"
Rory pulls out his 5 shuriken, one green, one clear, one gold, one red, and one multicolored. "I know what the green, gold, and rainbow ones do, but I haven't yet mastered the other two--I have much yet to learn when it comes to properly focusing my Ki."
Grabbing one of the mugs of ale from the table, she smiles. "Need some lubricant, you don't mind do you?"
Up closer, Pai realizes that what she thought were dwarves are actually halflings. They just happen to be a bit stocky and have beards. One of them waves his hand at the 'borrowed' mug and grins in a 'Help yourself' manner.
There's much cheering a clapping after she finishes her performance and in spite of Tomas' warning, there are more than a few coins tossed at the pair.
The rest of the evening passes in good cheer and the rooms provided are clean if not entirely comfortable. The light rain fades away sometime early in the pre-dawn hours and with the morning, the heat and humidity begins in earnest.
Arriving downstairs, you discover that Sheriff Praet is a woman true to her word. A hearty breakfast of eggs, roasted dika seeds, and fried taro is paid for and waiting for you. She joins you as you take your seats at the table.
"I hear that I missed a wonderful performance last night," she says to Pai. "Sorry about that, but my time never seems to be my own."
"So, I know what they're here for," she says, indicating the others that arrived with you who are scattered about the common room enjoying their own meals. "What are you folks here for? Most people that come to Pridon's Hearth are just starting out or are looking to start over. Which is it for you?" she asks as she takes a drink of a watered down beer. You notice that her forearms bear tattoos of a sword and a sunburst.
"My brothers at the monastery would say that the road to personal perfection starts with but a single step. For my part, I am only a few paces into my personal journey, having only recently found a path it seems I have some talent for," replies Rory. Glancing sidelong at Pai, he adds hurriedly, "Uh, that is not to say that I haven't already made a few missteps already."
Bavick watches the performance with some interest, though he is more interested in how others react.
He cringes as the gnome's voice fails badly on the first attempt, then watches as she rallies for a decent performance.
Bit of magic thrown in there. Not bad. Anybody taking advantage of the spectacle to pick some pockets? Maybe that Mr. Blackwell and his men?
The halfling looks around at the crowd.
--
"Just startin' out, Sheriff," Bavick says. "Worked for my Pa organizing treks into the wild near Eleder, and am now lookin' to have a business of my own. 'Course, I wouldn't mind if some other gainful and honest employment came my way."
He's dropped most of the accent for the time being except for a slight twang.
Anybody taking advantage of the spectacle to pick some pockets? Maybe that Mr. Blackwell and his men?[/i]
The halfling looks around at the crowd.
Mr. Blackwell and his associates occupy a table on the other side of the large common area and have been speaking quietly amongst themselves since arriving.
"Just startin' out, Sheriff," Bavick says. "Worked for my Pa organizing treks into the wild near Eleder, and am now lookin' to have a business of my own. 'Course, I wouldn't mind if some other gainful and honest employment came my way."
The Sheriff nods thoughtfully at Bavick's words and holds her thoughts while waiting for the others.
The silence of the night is interrupted by periodic shouts, groans, and scraping of furniture. It's unclear if Ashlion and Tygrah are making love or making war--either way, it sounds quite aggressive.
There's a warm glow about Tygrah as she sits down to breakfast, hair and clothes still slightly askew. She answers the sheriff between bites. "My husband and I have come to find a new home and make a large family together. We got a head start on things last night!" She favors the woman with a bawdy wink.
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"I hear that I missed a wonderful performance last night," she says to Pai. "Sorry about that, but my time never seems to be my own."
"APOLOGIES SHERIFF, I CANNOT HELP YOU. THIS WOMAN STOLE MY HEART LONG AGO!" Ashlion declares, before laughing uproariously at his own joke.
"BUT WE CANNOT SPEND ALL OUR TIME MAKING BABIES." He adds to Tygrah's summary. "WE KNOW THE JUNGLE WELL. IF YOU HAVE TASKS WE WILL HELP - FOR COIN OF COURSE!" He adds, having learned the hard way on their travels that not all tribes are as accommodating as the one he left behind.
"BUT WE CANNOT SPEND ALL OUR TIME MAKING BABIES."
"Would that be so bad?" Tygrah purrs, obviously enjoying the thought.
...Sometime last night...
Rory looks around, still warm from the exertion of the performance and flush with the enthusiasm of the crowd. Is the priestess of Shelyn in the crowd? Did she appreciate his take on “art”? Perhaps a private conversation with Annabella about the finer points of beauty could remove that glower from her face...
Rory finds Annabella at a table off to the side with an ignored meal sitting in front of her. She has a sketchbook out and is busy with broad strokes of a charcoal stylus as he approaches.
Noticing his presence, she puts down her stylus and closes the book. "So, the 'not-a-turnip' returns. Attempting your own form of art?" she asks, indicating the corner where the performance took place.
Sheriff Praet coughs lightly in embarrassment at the half-orcs' boldness. "Funny you should mention tasks that needed to be done," she says after collecting herself. "We maintain a military outpost here as well as the town - Fort Breakthrough. They've been unusually silent over the last week. The soldiers never turn down leave here and we haven't seen any of them in a while."
She stirs the food around on her plate.
"Perhaps you could pay them a visit just to make sure everything's ok. I don't have the manpower to manage what I have here much less send people off for something like this. I can offer you a hundred gold each up front and fifty more when you return."
Pai lets out a low whistle at the coin mentioned. She had barely scratched above 5 gold with her performances last night. It would take more than two months of consistently doing that to pull together that kind of money...and from her experience the well would surely dry up before then.
She tries to play it cool though, taking a bit of the breakfast meats in front of her. "Soldiers stuck at a fort without leave? Sounds like they could use some entertainment. And there might be an interesting story or two there as well. I could see myself heading out that way with you. For the soldiers, of course."
She smiles broadly, white teeth stretching strangely across the bottom of her small face. The interest in the payment is clear, but she does legitimately seem just as interested in hearing the story of Fort Breakthrough first hand.
Rory finds Annabella at a table off to the side with an ignored meal sitting in front of her. She has a sketchbook out and is busy with broad strokes of a charcoal stylus as he approaches.
Noticing his presence, she puts down her stylus and closes the book. "So, the 'not-a-turnip' returns. Attempting your own form of art?" she asks, indicating the corner where the performance took place.
”Yes, indeed.” answers Rory, ”although at the moment I am more intrigued by what you might be sketching. May I see your work?” he continues, obviously wanting to sit down at the table next to her and continue the conversation.
The priestess gives Rory an appraising look before nodding. "These are just sketches, mind you. The final work will be in oils."
She opens the sketchbook and shows him the most recent work. It's a view of the sea. Even in the simple monochrome, Rory can feel the emotion of the morning view. The dark clouds in the distance are especially chilling.
She flips to another page showing their initial view of the village from a distance. The loneliness is palpable.
She flips again to another page and it's a sketch of the sailors of the Kaava Cutter going about their daily tasks.
"So what are your thoughts of my work?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
”I am no expert art critic, but I can sense the powerful emotion in these sketches. The foreboding of the dark clouds, the loneliness of the solitary village. Your work is quite impressive, as is the strong undercurrent of passion that runs through it.”
Tilting his head and looking her directly, he says, ”There is more to you than meets the eye, I think.”
...
Shaken out of his reverie the next morning at the mention of *lots* of gold, Rory responds right after he hears Pai’s acceptance. ”I will go as well. You are most generous, sheriff.”
"I'll tag along if that's okay. It gives me a chance to get a lay of the land."
"Well. Sheriff, that's a mighty generous offer. 100 up front, and 50 on return? I'd be happy to check out the fort and see what's up. If there's trouble, I'm good at stayin' quiet and out of sight. When would you want us to leave?"
Tilting his head and looking her directly, he says, ”There is more to you than meets the eye, I think.”
"You think there is more to me than meets the eye?" she repeats with a small cold smile. "How very generous of you. To grant the possibility that there is more to me than just being an attractive woman that draws. I am overwhelmed at your consideration." She closes her sketchbook with a snap of finality. "Good evening, Rory of the Tiger eye Monastery. I think I've had enough of your consideration for one evening."
She rises from her stool to make her determined way out of the common room.
The Sheriff smiles in relief and reaches into a bag at her belt. She pulls from it and counts out six small slips of parchment. "You can turn these writs in at the Countinghouse of Abadar for your coin. I wouldn't recommend heading out into the wilderness unprepared. Some of the locals might have some words of wisdom on the area."
"Oyin's Emporium is out on Island Town and she's got all sorts of general goods. Northwind Smithy and Hari's Conservatorium are right nearby if you need any additional weapons, armor, or elixirs of most sorts."
"Fort Breakthrough is about twelve miles southeast of town. Just follow the trail and you shouldn't miss it."
Rory suggests we get the money, then perhaps go to the general store and find someone there who knows what supplies we might need for a jungle trek.
Tygrah punches Ashlion in the shoulder. "That sounds fun, husband! Perhaps there will be monsters with butts we can kick! We're in!
"Let's go get our money and buy what we need before we head out."
High squeaky laughter stabs through the bustle of the common room as the priestess stalks away from Rory.
As he turns Rory sees Pai across the room, laughing uproariously as she mimes snapping a sketch book closed with disgust and vigor.
Rory suggests we get the money, then perhaps go to the general store and find someone there who knows what supplies we might need for a jungle trek.
"Aha! I can tell you what supplies we need for a jungle trek!"
Bavick starts rattling off the staple items for a trip in the wilderness.
"Backpack, bandages, bedroll, 10 candles, map and case, 10 pieces chalk, fishhook and line, flint and steel, pitons and rope, trail rations for a week, sewing needle and thread, shovel, sunrods, tent, tindertwigs, torches, waterskins."
"Sheriff, would you happen to have a map of the area?"
Rory smiles at Bavick, saying, ”I think we have found our Quartermaster.”. Looking around, he stands up and says, ”Off to the bank then?”
Leaving the Stone Hall, you all tread the muddy path to the Countinghouse of Abadar which is just down the road.
This grand-looking stone and wood building looks a little out of place among the plank-and-log construction of most of the buildings you've passed in Pridon's Hearth. As you enter the front of the building, a tremulous calls out, "Wipe your feet please!"
A few moments later, a woman in her seventh or eighth decade toddles out from one of the rear rooms.
"Newcomers, eh? Here to open an account? It's always a wise thing to plan for the future and protect your assets. I'll be happy to take care of that. I'm Baldra Siferth, the senior accountant here."
Once you show her your writs, she holds them close to her face to examine them. Verifying for herself that they're legitimate, she begins her slow walk to the rear of the temple.
Minutes later she comes walking slowly back out bearing a tray that holds six small pouches.
"Sorry about the wait. Usually I get one of my younger assistants to do my fetching and toting for me, Quinn Vanicus was supposed to be doing that for me this week, but for some reason she's late getting back from her service time at the Fort." She shakes her head in annoyance."Young people and their distractable minds."
She hands out the pouches, one to each of you. Each contains one hundred gold coins.
"Now who would like to open a new account?" she concludes, setting aside the tray on a nearby pew and rubbing her ancient hands together.
”Thank you for the offer, Lady Siferth, but I am going to use this gold to provision for a trip to Fort Breakthrough along with my companions—I presume this is the Fort you spoke of regarding your assistant, Quinn?”
"Yes. Yes, it is," the priestess responds, her eyes widening just a touch. "I worry about my acolytes. If you would remind her that she needs to return here, I would be happy to give you a small reward. If you would bring her back, yourself, I would provide a larger one. And you would have the gratitude of an old woman."
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"DO NOT WORRY GRANDMOTHER!" Ashlion booms, "DANCING MAN AND I WILL RESCUE YOUR YOUNG WOMAN. HAVE THE REWARD READY WHEN WE RETURN!"
For all his disinterest in the papers the sheriff provided he seems very happy to have a pouch of gold and checks it carefully before handing it to Tygrah along with her own.
"Thank ya, Banker Siferth, but I'm investin' in my business. Not opening an account just yet, but I'll keep the bank in mind. I'll see if I can find your acolyte."
"Never underestimate the power of compound interest, Young Man," the woman says to Bavick.
~~~~~
As you approach the building with the sign hanging outside that reads 'Oyin Emporium ~ We Have It All', you hear shouting from inside. "Are you telling me you lost it? I thought it was time for senility to start settling in!" a man's voice shouts out. "I didn't lose it, you little marswallop! Cassia put it somewhere and I haven't found it yet!"
"And when will that be? A week from next year?"
"Oh, go on and get out of here! I'll let you know when I find it!"
As you enter the store, a frustrated halfling pushes past you on his way out. "Cranky old bat," he mutters as he passes you.
You enter the store to see a chaotic array of general goods. Boxes, bags, tents, pots, pans, rope, nets, construction materials, cooking gear, clothing, and everything mashed together on scattered shelves.
Moving through the shelves and now looking at you is a woman with a very sour face and a purple scarf wrapped around her head.
"And what do you people want? More stuff I can't find?" she snaps. She looks over the two half-orcs. "Gods, you two could build a master race all your own. You're not breeding are you?" She throws a lantern - seemingly not what she was looking for - onto a shelf full of personal care items.
”Bavick, I believe this is your department. How much coin will you need from each of us?”. Rory looks at the disorganized shelves and sighs.
During the shopping experience, Rory asks, "Lady Oyin, I am looking for some good inks and high quality sketch paper or books. Is your fine establishment the best place to find such things, or should I consider Penbury Printing?"
"It is presumptuous of me to jump to the conclusion, but Madam Oyin? Hello."
Pai smiles at the tall (to her) woman. "My travelling troupe is off to provide entertainment and needed respite to the troops at Fort Breakthrough. As you can see we have already procured and accomplished guide, and our strong-man and strong-woman will be providing security for the trip. We were told you were the one to come to for any needed provisions."
"For a journey into the jungle, are there any special hazards that we need to prepare for? Are there poisons or disease carriers that it would be a good idea to take supplies to help fortify ourselves against? Any particularly hard trails where we might need rope or climbing gear? Any wisdom you can provide as the knowledgeable purveyor of goods for this region would be appreciated, and of course compensated fairly."
"Gods, you two could build a master race all your own. You're not breeding are you?"
"We are working on it!" Tygrah responds cheerily. She turns to her husband. "We should get vials of acid and fire. Probably lots of bugs in jungle that we can't smash or stab."