The goblin plugs the number into his phone, then nods, adjusts his onesie to fit more properly, and sulks off towards the fort. Grabbing his unconscious companions, he slowly starts dragging them toward the emergency exit (which Franklin's fort-crashing has made accessible).
Jeron taps his chin as he considers.
"I mean, when you get right down to it, I don't know offhand that you didn't provoke the goblins into a fight to begin with. Most folk just ignore 'em if they see 'em, y'know. Technically speaking, I could get you banned from the store for that not that there's a lot of point this late in the game. But you did do me a favor, whether you knew it or not, and I am payin' these folks for the same favor."
He scratches at his chin for a moment as he mulls the situation over. "Ten percent for the both of you, final offer. Go through Josh's line, I'll tell him to expect you. Deal?" he asks, holding out his hand.
Still having his arm around Franklin, Joe steps forward to shake the manager's hand. "Deal!"
Jeron's grip is firm and steady, like you'd expect any honest dwarf's to be, and doesn't go on any longer than it needs to.
"Now, uh-- your party got a name? I can leave you guys a review on Sword4Board or Yelp or whatever."
Cassidy makes sure her coat is well buttoned before swinging around with her own answer. "Y'ain't heard of us? We're the Jelly Jigglers! No wait, the, uh, Gen Z Zychopaths! Er, how about the Give Us Your Money Gang? Meme Team Dream Team? Anarcho-Swindlers?"
She tries about a dozen more, mumbling and thinking aloud with very little commitment.
Franklin stiffened as Joe siphoned some of the Accidental God's healing energy and poured it into the accountant, this being the first time he had been magically repaired. It felt...intoxicating. Though that could have been from the source of the divine energy, as well. The accountant's lips pursed as the healing didn't quite close the wound up all the way, both the ends of the gash still shallow puckers that at least thankfully were no longer seeping blood. Eh, it was better than nothing. "Thanks, Joe."
The young man felt himself swept along by the boisterous priest, his mind struggling to process everything as Joe continued to answer for the both of them. He wanted to insist on answering for himself, but Franklin had never been one to confront friends, or at least friendly acquaintances, in this case, and couldn't bring himself to this time, either. He found himself nodding in agreement, though the dwarf's words rankled him enough to respond.
In a level, monotone voice he replied, "We were just walking towards the boxes and the goblins started shooting at us, sir. I don't believe by any interpretation of the civic code would we be considered the aggressors in this instance. But since you have wisely decided to not pursue that course of action, I gladly accept your offer of a discount." The accountant then shook the dwarf's hand, the motion awkward with Joe's arm draped across his shoulders.
When the dwarf mentioned a party name and the double-gnome started throwing names out, Franklin had an epiphany. No one in their right mind would expect him to hang out with a motley bunch like this! He'd probably need a mask or something, but this might work out. "How about Expedient Problem Resolution?"
Looking to Franklin, releasing the embrace, Joe offers, "You know Docto is a celebrity, perhaps we should attach our brand to his..like..Docto's Sexy Nurses..or Docto's Orders, you know seeing how I'm a healer. Or..Since the party has a caydenite in it, how about some bar or liquior-sounding names..like Last Call..The Happy Hours..or Cayden's Kegs..or maybe even..", the cleric pausing for dramatic effect, "BROTHER JOE WASKALIS AND HIS AMAZING FRIENDS..! Huh, sounds good, right?!"
Jeron seems to realize he hired a bunch of rookies and makes the sort of face that’s appropriate for that sort of thing, given that it turned out all right (probably).
"Anime Libera," Faith added to the pool. "It means 'Free Souls' in one of the old tongues." She'd always loved the phrase, the way it rolled off the tongue, and the meaning it held. Personal freedoms, the freedom to choose, was something too few people cherised as they should.
Franklin's eyes lit up at Joe's first suggestion for a name. "Last Call does sound pretty good. I mean, it ties in with your religion, plus it has the added context of last call for the bad guys." At this the accountant cut eyes over at the...ahem, shorter members of the group. Maybe they were more middle-of-the-road guys. But probably not bad guys.
When Faith offered her own suggestion, the young man thought it over, brow furrowing. He liked it...but it didn't have the catchiness of Last Call, in his mind. Not wanting to knock someone's idea, especially a new acquaintance, he remained dutifully silent, looking about until he spied his abandoned cart from across the store.
"I vibe with Last Call, but hell, if y'all wanna go for Docta's Orders I can't say no."
"The rest of us can," Faith replied with a laugh. "Last Call sounds like a greasy dive bar where interesting things happen after hours." Considering how many nights she'd spent in such a place, and how many of her clients came from them, she'd be hard put to say no. "It should work well. Although as a point of order, all party meetings need to happen in the presence of alcohol now."
Jeron clears his throat. "How 'bout I just give one of you my number and you can text me once you're all set up on one'a them sites?" he asks. Assuming no objection, he slips a business card into Faith's hand (given that she seems to have herself together more than the rest), waves, and walks off to attend to his work.
JERON HOLDSTONE
Store Manager
Virginia Beach, VA
#: (XXX) YYY-ZZZZ
Joe looks touched and overjoyed one of his suggestions is being accepted. "Aww. You guys!"
The caydenite looks to his tabarded companion. "Well, we have some shopping to do."
"It should work well. Although as a point of order, all party meetings need to happen in the presence of alcohol now."
The cleric smiles and bows his head toward the blue-skinned native outsider. "Surely, your wisdom is only matched by your beauty", Joe said with a wink. Turning to the rest of Last Call's members. "Okay, after we get done shopping, we should head to a bar and get you all properly annointed .
Cleric's Kit
Healer's Kit
Insulated (clay) Tankard
Rapier
Scalemail armor
Shield, light wooden
Playing cards
Dice, pair
Bandolier
Regular Price = 140 gp, 6 sp, 2 cp
30 % off Discount
Total price = 98gp, 4 sp, 3cp
Remaining Gold = 56gp, 5 sp, 7 cp
[b]BEER MONEY
Cleric's Kit
Healer's Kit
Insulated (clay) Tankard
Rapier
Scalemail armor
Shield, light wooden
Playing cards
Dice, pair
Bandolier
Regular Price = 140 gp, 6 sp, 2 cp
30 % off Discount
Total price = 98gp, 4 sp, 3cp
Remaining Gold = 56gp, 5 sp, 7 cp
BEER MONEY
As the gnome suggested that Docta's Orders might also be a good suggestion, Franklin mulled it over. It did have a pretty nice ring to it...but then Faith hopped on board the Last Call train and things had been decided. Wait...was he part of an adventuring group now!? The blood rushed to the accountant's face as he thought about how awesome and terrifying that actually was.
He nodded in agreement at Joe's suggestion that they finish up their shopping, looking on wide-eyed as the Caydenite blatantly flirted with the cute blue-skinned woman. It wasn't subtle at all, but he did it so casually one couldn't help but find it charming. Maybe hanging out with these folks would do Franklin good.
Strolling over to his cart (while keeping an eye on the others to make sure they don't go off and leave him), he quickly wheeled it to the men's department and picked up a nice dark blue polo shirt and another pair of khakis to replace the ripped ones. The pants he was wearing were beyond a tailor's skill, and not only did he not think the blood would wash out of the shirt, he didn't want any questions about where it had come from when he dropped it off at the cleaners.
Backpack - 1.6 gp
Crowbar - 1.6 gp
Hammer - .4 gp
3 Pitons - .24 gp
50' Silk Rope - 8 gp
Empty Sack - .08 gp
Waterskin - .8 gp
Bedroll - .08 gp
Monk's Outfit - 4 gp
Quarterstaff - Free with a purchase?
3 Javelins - 2.4 gp
Manacles - 12 gp
Fine Bottle of Wine - 8 gp
Sunrod x 5 - 8 gp
Traveler's Outfit (Khakis and Shirt) - .8 gp
Total - 46.4 gp
Less 10% - -4.64 gp
Total - 41.76 gp
When his shopping was completed, he started off with the others, thinking maybe he should have done his shopping at Hot Topic to fit in with this bunch. Regardless, at least he was finally embarking on this adventure of...adventuring, and he was in high spirits after finally getting some traction.
Turning to the rest of Last Call's members. "Okay, after we get done shopping, we should head to a bar and get you all properly annointed .
"I'm down," Nessie agrees. "Not Sky Bar though, my mom told them not to let me in anymore," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "And we can't go anywhere on the boardwalk since my parents, like, own it."
As everyone starts to drift back towards the check-out lanes, she keeps pace with the Marvins. "So you're driving, right? I had to ride the bus here and it was so — ugh." She makes a face, unable to come up with a word to properly describe her distaste for public transportation.
"I'm always down for some drink wit' a Caydenite, 'specially when it's Brotha Joe."
He's quiet for a moment before he says, "I can't get us over there though. Ya boi took an Uber, you know how it be. My car ain't what it used to be."
Faith looked over the card and then popped it in her purse with the other business cards she'd acquired that might be useful. "I don't know about that. If I was wise I probably wouldn't be about to ****faced with a group of people I only just met with only a giant, angry and murderous wasp to keep me out of trouble." Rummaging around in the bag again, she pulled out her car keys. "I can drive folks there, but make no promises about getting you back to your houses. I don't expect to be driving home." She was pretty sure drink-driving would get you Smote by some Calistrans, and with good cause.
Joe claps his hands. "Well, between the gnome twins and your ride", looking at the blue-skinned beauty, "I think we can all make it to the boardwalk! First rounds on me!"
Franklin eyed the others skeptically, then said, "I've got my own ride, but thanks." He could only agree heartily with Faith's assessment of getting drunk with near-strangers, but that's the life he was apparently living now. For the next hour, anyway. Not knowing how it be, he still nodded absently when the good Docta spoke up about needing a lift. Seeing that Joe had volunteered the strange twins and the sylphs for car-pooling, Franklin in no way contradicted the Caydenite.
As he put his assorted bags back into his cart, the accountant felt a certain sense of pride in his 'work' here. He had really kicked the s!*$ out of those guys! And even managed to get stabbed a little in the process. He had read several blogs that mentioned how much the ladies dug a man with a few scars. Not many...if you had a lot, you probably sucked at fighting, and if you had none you probably were a coward. Or something like that. Anyways, he prepared to go pack his things into his trunk so he could drive to the bar that the others specified.
"I, uh, I can't drive anyone over. My car only seats two. It's a ForTwo. And, well, there are two of me."
Between Franklin and the Marvins supplying their own rides and Nessie, the Docta, and Brother Joe clambering into Faith-in-the-Rain's vehicle, the seven of them arrive no worse for wear at the bar on the boardwalk (despite Nessie's objections).
The Boardwalk is famous for a few things, but one that's fairly familiar to the locals is the large bronze statue of Gozreh, a sea turtle in one hand and a trident in the other. The bar that Joe works at isn't... quite on the boardwalk, but it's boardwalk-adjacent. Still close enough that the drinks are bound to be overpriced. Thankfully, you're still a week or two away from tourist season, or the place would likely be a nightmare to navigate.
Finding the bar is simple enough; a sign juts out from above the door with a representation of the Accidental God stumbling, smiling, and raising a tankard, as if to recommend it.
As the party enters, their eyes adjusting to the dim light (some perhaps better than others), a hobgoblin looks up from mixing a drink briefly-- then looks up again as he recognizes a familiar beard.
"JOE! Thought you had the night off!" he barks, slamming the drink down in front of a very startled customer in his hurry to move to the Joeward side of the bar, leaning over and reaching out a hand to be slapped, pounded, shaken and stirred (in that order).
Finding the bar is simple enough; a sign juts out from above the door with a representation of the Accidental God stumbling, smiling, and raising a tankard, as if to recommend it.
As Joe enters the caydenite bar with the others, the cleric takes a very quick moment to kiss his two fingers and place them on the religious icon above the door.
As the party enters, their eyes adjusting to the dim light (some perhaps better than others), a hobgoblin looks up from mixing a drink briefly-- then looks up again as he recognizes a familiar beard.
"JOE! Thought you had the night off!" he barks, slamming the drink down in front of a very startled customer in his hurry to move to the Joeward side of the bar, leaning over and reaching out a hand to be slapped, pounded, shaken and stirred (in that order).
"I am, Ugran", the cleric returned the gesture to his fellow bartender. "But Cayden thought it was time I joined the ranks of his adventurers." With a broad wave of his hands behind him, the caydenite motioned to the newcomers who walked in behind him. "BEHOLD! My fellow adventurers in Last Call, our newly formed adventurer group! A round of ale for the lot..with employee discount, of course!"
Franklin drove behind the others to the bar where Joe worked, anxiety levels high. He was clearly out of his element here. Beating up dummies and hitting practice mats was one thing...this could get dangerous, even deadly! Still, the accountant couldn't reject the absolute heat-of-the-moment thrill he had felt for those moments when in K-Mart. Gone was the meek pencil-pusher who was trying to simultaneously pursue his dream and hide it. He had felt...alive, for the first time in years.
So he continued to follow, forcing himself to dismiss the numerous excuses his mind churned out as to why he should go home and call it a night. Adventurers didn't give a f@!~ about early mornings. And that's what he was now...or so he kept trying to convince himself. Finding a parking space relatively close to Joe's bar was irritating, but the careful young man managed to finally snag a spot and pull in. He made sure to lock his doors and that his wallet was secure, then followed the others inside.
Franklin stopped when Joe did briefly at the entrance, not willing to preempt the Caydenite in entering the establishment. His eyes widened when the two fellows (one working, one not) started bellowing at one another, realizing it must be a thing amongst the worshipers of the Accidental God. He sat down at the bar top, thinking he should enthusiastically agree with a round for himself and the others in the newly-formed Last Call, but all he managed was a weak nod. He'd have to be careful, as he didn't normally indulge in alcohol. "Thanks, Joe."
Turning to put the others in view, as well, he said, "So, do you guys want to post on multiple sites? Or just pick the 'best' one and run with it. I'm a little computer savvy, but maybe someone else might want to manage the online stuff...I'm not exactly creative."
Following along in her serviceable if venerable vehicle, Faith did wonder what the hell she'd gotten herself into. It wasn't like she didn't take risks, but joining a random group of people to adventure seemed more like an invitation to head for Rappan Athuk than a good way to find party members. Still, most of them seemed to know what they were doing, and chill.
...and occasionally two people in a trench coat, but everyone had their quirks. Some people, like her, hated wearing shoes and others decided to be one person in a trench coat.
Nope, there was no way to say that and make it sound sane.
Getting out of the car and stretching for a moment, Faith looked at the building and tried to remember if she'd done anything here that would either bring her too much attention or had gotten her barred. Probably not, given that Joe didn't seem to know her and she didn't exactly look...normal. Most people did not have a tattooed tail and crystal wings. But you never knew what people could forget.
Following Joe to the bar, Faith added to the order with, "Could you add a bottle of Couatl Tequila to that?" Faith wasn't a big fan of beer. She knew the followers of the Accidental God usually loved the stuff, and often even made it, but she prefered something with more bite.
Plus the usually gave out bonus lime.
Looking over at Franklin, she smiled. "All of them, probably. Advertise wide. It'll take more effort to maintain, but so long as we stick to one username and keep the branding the same across all the platforms we can, we'll probably be good." Branding was important, she knew. You did not make that mistake twice.
Following Joe to the bar, Faith added to the order with, "Could you add a bottle of Couatl Tequila to that?" Faith wasn't a big fan of beer. She knew the followers of the Accidental God usually loved the stuff, and often even made it, but she prefered something with more bite.
"You can order the tequila after the ale. Ale is traditonal. You will see. Ordering the hard liquor now would be a waste." Joe looks into Faith's eyes. "Trust me."
After all the members of Last Call get their mugs of ale, Joe instructs them on a proper caydenite toast. "Before you drink of your beverage, or other substance, it behooves you to first of all, offer a small prayer or toast to The Accidental God, like 'Cheers', or 'Thank you Cayden', or 'To your health', etc."
"Now, it is common practice among the faithful, that you pour roughly two small mouthfuls of your drink on the ground, if possible in front of a holy symbol or icon on Cayden Cailean, but that's not necessary, so long as Cayden gets his share. Don't worry about the mess! Each offering to Cayden Cailean acts as a constantly refilled hallow spell, strengthening the wood and brick this building rests on."
Joe continues, "After that, you are free to enjoy the remainder of your drink as you wish." After the demonstration, Joe slams his ale down his gullet.
After all the members of Last Call get their mugs of ale,
Ugran's eyes pan over the group at Joe's order for a round, before he raises his hand. "Waitaminute, Joe. Rules are rules, and we don't keep the lights nearly bright enough for me to get away with eyeballing it. IDs, please! ('Cept Joe, obviously.)"
Docta G thanks Brother Joe for the drinks before he pulls out his ID, showing it to Ugran.
The astute observer would notice that the birth date on Docta G's ID would place him at just over one hundred years old.
Franklin nodded at Faith's assessment of what their advertising should consist of, not trusting himself to speak directly to the rather cute exotic woman. He stuck out like a sore thumb for how ordinary he looked...Joe seemed like a fellow human, too, but he acted the part of traveling adventurer, at least.
When Ugran asked for ID, Franklin dutifully removed his wallet and held it out for the bartender, his ID encased in the plastic compartment with only the barest amount of grime. Other people didn't take pride in their wallets, but the accountant kept his up meticulously. Good wallets were expensive, and he didn't fancy replacing it every month.
Idly looking about as the others offered their ages to the bartender to ensure they were of drinking age, Franklin poured out what he assumed would be two mouthfuls of ale, then shrugged and poured a little more, just to be sure. The Caydenites weren't known for beating someone up for not offering enough, but one could never be too sure. He looked about, making sure everyone else was obliging (or not). When the others were ready, he raised his mug with theirs, listening to what they said and then parroting the most popular version of thanks to Cayden.
Faith looked dubious at the idea of cancelling the decent drink, but team work was meant to be based on trust. If she couldn't trust a Caydenite barman on drinks it was going to be a very bad sign of things to come. "Alright. I'll trust you. We'll wait for now."
She pulled out her I.D and showed the barman her driving licence, which would confirm she was old enough for her race to drink. It wasn't like she looked like a kid, beyond her height, but she got asked for it a lot anyway.
Cassidy cannot stop grinning! She's never been in a bar before. AND she's already bought alcohol today. Everything's looking up.
Of course, then the bartender asks to see her ID.
Cassidy titters, batting her eyelashes and bending over to expose her cleavage. "Oh, I'm flattered honey, but you don't need to see my ID. Can't you tell I'm 35??"
The caydenite began to notice the communication around Last Call was starting to slow down, so the big bearded cleric walked over to his lyrical hero AND new teammate, Docta G. Joe approached the rap star and shook his hand when offered.
"Hi ya doing tonight, Doc?! I knew you were a performer, but not a bard, man! That's awesome!"
Franklin nursed at his beer, ogling a bit as the 'human' woman tried to charm Ugran into moving along and not wasting her time. She hadn't seemed 35 to begin with, but maybe she was just a 'fun' middle-aged woman. Or women, as it were.
As Joe started speaking to the good Docta about his musical expertise, the accountant turned to Faith. "I can handle the permits and stuff like that. All the nuts and bolts behind an organization like this can get overlooked. I'll get us a resale certificate, as well, should we have to subcontract anything out. No sense paying sales tax twice, ya know." He grinned as he took another sip of his beer, the familiar chatter relaxing him somewhat.
Docta G gives Brother Joe a firm handshake before responding, "Just something that came to me, ya dig? Can't say I know how, really, but when I get rappin' that fire just comes with."
He then knocks down a swig of his drink and gives a nod skyward, saying, "Many thanks to my man CC."
Brother Joe smiles wide. "Ahh! A true believer AND a bard! Praise to you and Big Boss!" The cleric then poses a question to the celebrity. "So Doc, where ya living nowadays? You got a place in this timezone?"
Ugran leans over the bar, checking IDs, before he comes across something rather... different to check.
He raises an eyebrow.
Rolling his eyes, he pours out five drinks, placing two of them in front of Brother Joe. "Can't serve alcohol to anyone without ID," he says, tapping the sign as he turns his back on the party and pointedly looks the other way for a little while.
"Praise to you and Big Boss!"
"May we all remember the basics of CQC!" says Ugran.
A half-elf with a terrible neckbeard raises his glass from one of the tables. "Hear hear!"
"Hear hear..." Franklin stopped his rambling long enough to parrot the praise to 'CC', glancing over at the half-elf before deciding he probably rather shouldn't have. The accountant rubbed his face, the barest wisp of stubble marring the surface after a long day. Maybe he should grow a beard of some sort. Or a goatee...tough guys seemed to always have goatees.
As he pondered his future adventuring look, he took another pull on the tankard of ale in his hand, struggling to not make a face as the unfamiliar bitterness lingered in his mouth. Maybe it was an acquired taste. He thought about Docta G's words, wondering if anyone that could bust a rhyme could generate a similar effect from doing so. He didn't think so, as he was pretty sure gangsta rappers would all happily light their extremities aflame in their music videos if they were able.
Franklin turned on the bar to address the others gathered, peering more at his drink than their eyes. "So, assuming this turns into a lucrative arrangement, should we invest in a home office, of sorts? Just trying to think ahead..."
Faith waved a sword around that hadn't been there a moment before, and wasn't there again a moment later. "Hear, here." Well...when you could, why wouldn't you.
"If we make enough money we can rent a place," she agreed with Franklin provisionally, "But for now let's keep it cheap. I already own a buisness, and my parlour has a couple of storerooms I don't use much. It won't be fancy, but if all we're using them for at the moment is meetings, storage and the like my back office can pull double duty." She considered for a moment. Probably not a good idea to mention trying out tattoo ideas on them. They might run before she could.
Picking up one of the drinks, Faith peered at the alcohol inside for a moment before taking a sip.
Rolling his eyes, Ugran pours out five drinks, placing two of them in front of Brother Joe. "Can't serve alcohol to anyone without ID," he says, tapping the sign as he turns his back on the party and pointedly looks the other way for a little while.
Joe nods with complete understanding, excusing himself from the bard. "Thank you Ugran. Two pepsis for the little ladies, then please?"
Looking down into the faces of two sullen and sexually appealing gnomes, Joe tries to raise their spirits with a wink. "Don't worry ladies. When you are both of legal age to drink, we caydenites will make sure to usher you into a brand new world in style!"
Sadducee hisses at Joe from within the trench coat, furious. "Don't blow our cover, idiot. We're not two little ladies, we're one single human woman of the age of 35, and we don't f+#%ing want a soda, that's demeaning. Jackass."
Cassidy reaches for the spare ale while Urgan's back is turned and Joe is busy listening to her coat.
"Sorry about her, she didn't have to use such language to someone we just met." She blinks and looks away. "But she's right. Don't assume for me. I don't appreciate it, and I can look out for myself."
Faith raised an eyebrow, but didn't interfere. The ladies knew what they wanted, even if it was illegal - and it wasn't like Faith cared much for the laws of mortal kind herself - but Joe obviously didn't want his place of work to suffer, even if the barman was willing to look the other way. Literally.
Eh, they'd either resolve it themselves or they'd make this all really awkward. Either way it should be entertaining.
"Sorry about her, she didn't have to use such language to someone we just met." She blinks and looks away. "But she's right. Don't assume for me. I don't appreciate it, and I can look out for myself."
Joe rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine. But it would be nice to meet my newest teammate(s) properly before the next gig."
Walking away, the caydenite 'slaps' the behind of the woman in the trenchcoat. "We'll talk later."
Cassidy scowls as Joe walks away, taking a sip of the sacred ale. But his swat collides with the back of Sadducee's head, temporarily shifting the two off balance, and Cassidy, trying not to fall, spills beer all over her chin.
Joe takes this opportunity to reacquaint himself with the straight-laced Jean Claude Van Damme, and walks over to join him and the sky blue lady. "How ya two doing?"
Franklin listened to Faith's answer attentively, sipping at his beer without making much progress on it. "You own your own business? Who does your taxes? Um, anyway, yeah, that sounds great, for now. And if this thing sticks there's all kinds of legal profit-shifting we can do between your business and our adventuring schtick." The accountant's eyes grew shiny and excited at the prospect of crunching the numbers behind it.
He hears the situation a few feet away between Joe and the two-for-one trenchcoat lady, dutifully minding his own business. The hidden twin seemed mean as hell, and seeing as people tended to frown on punching a woman half your height and a sixth of your weight (and secretly wondering if the sisters would kick his ass if it came down to it), the accountant thought continued ignorance was the best option if such a situation came up again.
As Joe joined them again, Franklin smiled at the man as he took a pull on the tankard in his hand, nodding, "Oh yeah, that's good stuff. Doing great, man. Just hammering out some of the behind-the-scenes stuff that needs to happen should this thing push forward. Speaking of which, aren't there boards we can search where folks are actively looking for professional problem-solvers?"