A muscular human woman in gleaming full plate armor steps forward, removing her helmet and bowing to the group. Her tan skin, black hair, and golden eyes speak of Varisian ancestry. "Well met, all of you! I am Zenaida Radulescu, warpriest of Falayna and occasional troubleshooter for the city of Magnimar. Your sheriff tells me that you could use a strong sword arm." She smiles at the group. "I can also do some spellcasting, although I am not as skilled in that area as a true cleric."
Indeed, Zenaida presents a very martial figure. She carries a longsword and dagger at her hips, with a longbow and a heavy wooden shield strapped over her backpack. The dwarven members of the party might pick up on the fact that her armor is excellent quality, made by a master smith. She obviously takes good care of it but there are a few scratches that she couldn't quite polish out. Her silver holy symbol depicts a woman's beringed hand holding a longsword aloft.
"Well met, we could use the help of a strong sword arm. And a person of faith is always welcome."
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Dol looks up at the sheriff grimly. "We're glad you are back, Sheriff Balor. There's been a lot happening, but hopefully we are close to the end. We just need a night to recuperate and we'll go back out to Thistletop to make sure it is cleaned up.
We left a couple of miscreants in your jail. The one is a cultess of Lamashtu. Shouldn't be too difficult to handle as long as she doesn't have her holy symbol, but you should be careful nevertheless."
Standing to greet Zenalda, Dol smiles warmly as he clasps her arm. "Ah! Finally, someone who appreciates the benefits of defense. Blessings of the forge follow you, Zenalda. I am Dol Stormmaul. Been doing my best to keep this lot standing, but a little extra healing could go a long way. Welcome!"
He gives her armor a quick look up and down, then winks at her. "No offense, but it looks like your armor needs the hand of a trained Smith. I'd be glad to fix it up for you in the morning, if you don't mind. Can't have water getting into those nicks and starting to rust, eh?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you both." Loth says with a smile. "Our methods so far have been a bit... daring, to say the least, but we've always scraped by... And I think with you on our side, things will only get better."
The kobold is decidedly twitchy as he stands in this establishment surrounded by people that might want to mount a kobold head on their walls. He looks sideways at the sheriff, who narrows his eyes a bit and motions the little fellow to say something.
He unconsciously steps closer to the armored woman in apparent hope she will have his back when the townsfolk come with their pitchforks.
As he talks, he becomes more confident, but his voice remains low and intense as he leans toward the table, sharing a secret for their ears only, "Tarphrex the Magnificent is glad to meet you, strong adventurers. The Balor says you are very strong and will help Tarphrex grow strong. A strong Tarphrex is a powerful Tarphrex and will remember his friends, yes! The Zenaida is very strong and a friend of Tarphrex, too! All friends!"
With at least the preliminary introductions aside, Sheriff Balor Hemlock takes Dol's words and says, "I'll look in on this cultist and let you know if I learn anything useful."
"A dwarven smith? Excellent! I would greatly appreciate that, Dol. I got a bit banged up in my last fight, but the smith I normally take my armor to was booked solid for two weeks." Zenaida shrugs with a clink of armor. "I couldn't very well turn Sheriff Hemlock down just because of a few scratches."
She surveys the group with a trained eye. "Speaking of which, all of you look the worse for wear. Would you like some healing?"
As Tarphrex speaks, Zenaida smiles slightly. She was a bit wary of the kobold at first, but he seems to be motivated to make friends with other races. Especially people who can hold their own in a fight.
The kobold eagerly nods his head, ”Yes, the Zenaida is good healer, good warrior, good friend!”
Realizing he might have gotten a little too loud, he stops suddenly, looking twitching around the room for anyone that might be thinking to do him harm.
He is small for a kobold, which makes him very small indeed in the company of about anyone else. He wears rather drab and somewhat threadbare robes. If not for the very reptilian snout gracing his face, he could almost pull up his rather voluminous hood and pass himself off as a halfling of monastic bent.
With his hood down and his sleeves pushed back, you can see his scaly hide is mostly a mottled mess of greens and browns - mostly browns - rather like the various muds found in a swamp. There are, however, a handful of scales that stand out, both because they are jet black and shiny and because Tarphrex absent-mindedly rubs those spots, drawing attention to them even if the color didn’t make them stand out.
Much more quietly, he asks, ”May the Zenaida and Tarphrex sit like friends with you? May we hear stories of hero-friends?”
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Just noticing the kobold, Dol suddenly realizes that the Sheriff mentioned TWO new fighters. He looks skeptically at the small lizard man, then at Balor. "You vouch for this kobold, then?"
Dol also notices the smile that Zenaida directs toward Tarphrex. With a shrug, he reaches out a hand to Tarphrex. "Well, you aren't a goblin, at least and I can't say that I have known any kobolds before. Perhaps the stories I have told are overblown. Welcome, then."
He looks Tarphex up and down and squints, then looks around, searching for forgotten supplies. "Where is your armor? Your weapons?" He pokes the kobold rather hard. "Those scales must be tougher than they look."
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In response to Zenaida's praise, Dol smiles. "Aye. The ring of hammer on steel sings almost as sweetly as the stone of the caves themselves. Either sing of Creation and give praise to Torag simply by existing. I like to work the hammer every morning, and it will be good to have something that needs doing.
And, yes, we could use some healing. It has been a trying day. We took out an entire clan of goblins and their cultist coordinator, who we all thought was dead before today."
Dol grins even wider at Tarphrex's request for stories. "Ha! Asking a dwarf to tell stories of his own bravery? Well, well, you are wise. But, stories cannot be told without ale. Ameiko! We need some mugs over here!"
Sitting back down, Dol begins recounting the days events, expounding on each of their bravery and ferocity.
Razkiv holds out his hand to Tarphrex, "Glad to have you onboard, I was raised in the City of Strangers, I spent some time running with some kobald brothers they liked trouble they where stout friends. I'll be glad to have you." After shaking the sorcerers hand Razkiv notices his state, the careful ash paintings on his arms streaked with sweat and blood. 'I need a cleansing.'
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"Lady Zenaida, I am not sure about your training, we found an enchanted hand and a half sword. If you can not use it then we can see about trading it."
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"Sheriff, we brought back some spoils to help the town recover from the raid, who should we deliver that to?"
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Once Dol begins to tell stories Razkiv takes the opportunity to duck out and clean his body, mind and soul.
"Well, I certainly won't say no to some healing, I'm pretty battered up." Loth says with a rough smile. "Thrilled to meet you both!"
Once the ale starts flowing, Loth joins in with equal enthusiasm, letting Dol do all the talking, though occasionally interjecting to make sure Dol gives sufficient attention to the parts that make Loth look good, like disarming the trap and dealing the final blow. Similarly, he tries to talk down his less than charming actions, like the part where he and Bumbo ran for their lives.
Of course, he also doesn't hesitate to shower his companions with praise for their own accomplishments. All in all, he's having a wonderful time.
@Dol: Balor grunts before responding to the question of Tarphrex, "No. But he's willing to try so I'm willing to let him."
@Razkiv: (as to the funds) "I can take them if you'd prefer, or you can give them to Mayor Deveren."
@Everyone: Ameiko brings ale and Sandpoint Witch's Hats to the table.
Zenaida nods and steps up to the table, placing a hand on Dol's shoulder. "In Falayna's name, be healed." She repeats the process for the other dwarf, halfling, and gnome. That done, the warpriest takes off her backpack, bow, and shield, leaning them against the wall next to the table. The shield bears the same device as her holy symbol, on a field of violet with a rim of polished steel for extra reinforcement.
"So, um... Dol introduced himself, but what are the rest of your names?" She takes a swig of ale, pleased at the flavor. "Should we get through the rest of the day without a fight, I can cast four cure light wounds spells this evening. I'm reluctant to use up all of my spells this early, though. As for the bastard sword... sorry, but I never learned to wield those in one hand. I would have to use both hands, and I'm reluctant to give up my shield."
Tarphrex eyes the mugs of ale that Ameiko brings with wide eyes, both surprised at their size and that she actually brought him one, too. He climbs up to stand on the chair and grasps the mug with both hands to carefully raise to his lips for a sip. And his eyes widen once more at the flavor. "Mmm, Tarphrex likes this! Is lady," he points in the direction that Ameiko disappeared, "also friend?"
Tarphrex looks at how the others eat their Sandpoint Witch's Hats. Still standing on the chair, he leans in and tentatively turns his hands one way and then the other to figure out how best to take a hold of this large (for him) repast. He finally just grabs and his talons break through, causing grease and juice and scent to burst out - and his eyes widen once more. "This...", he pauses, looking at it and taking a deep breath, "Everyone can get this? Not just chief? Not just king?" He doesn't wait for an answer, almost afraid the reply will be in the negative, and shoves way too much into his mouth before someone can take it from him.
The look on his face can only be described as bliss - if a reptilian face can show bliss - and he is silent for a long time as he takes enormous, mouth-filling bites and then savors every moment, half-closing his eyes. If addressed, he pulls himself from his reverie to nod or shake his head eagerly, but once his answer is complete, he settles back in.
One might be struck by two thoughts. Perhaps the little fellow isn't so little because of his ancestry. He eats like he's never had such a large meal - and maybe he hasn't. The other thought is - how can he breath with so much food in his maw?
He eats the larger half of the "Hat" before setting his ale mug on the chair between his feet and then sitting down. He quietly sips his ale and tries not to drop in to a food coma - with moderate success. "If the Zenaida will travel with heroes, Tarphrex will help. Someday, Tarphrex will be mighty and very helpful." And he yawns.
Loth shakes Zenaida's hand. "Loth Dalveran of Magnimar, it's a pleasure to meet you!"
"Yes, Tarphrex, we can get food like this any day so long as we budget our coin well. And yes, I plan to travel with these folks." Zenaida's expression is a peculiar blend of happiness and sadness as she watches the kobold devour his meal. Happy, because he's enjoying himself; sad, because what kind of life must he have led that an ordinary tavern sandwich seems like a feast for a king?
The warpriest smiles at Loth, carefully controlling her grip so as not to squeeze too hard. (She's done that by accident a time or two.) "Pleased to meet you, Loth."
Zenaida removes her gauntlets and takes a bite of her own Witch's Hat, making a pleased sort of hum at the taste. She comments occasionally on Dol and Loth's stories, just enough to make it clear that she's interested without taking over the conversation.
Once the evening starts winding down, she stands up once more. "Well, looks like the healing earlier wasn't near enough. I'll use the rest of my spells now. Probably won't get you back in top form, but it should help." Zenaida makes the rounds of the table, this time chanting a brief phrase in Celestial as she lays a hand on each man's shoulder.
After cleansing his body Razkiv turns to clearing his mind, he takes out one of his parchment sheets and begins making a series of strokes with the ink made of the ash, it only takes a handful of the strokes before he recognizes the image his subconscious was creating. He smiles, maybe for the first time in days. after finishing the painting he spreads some sand across it and uses the rest of the fresh paint to add to the smoke tattoos running up his arm.
He rolls the painting up and heads back to the rusty dragon to see if the others are still there. He comes and presents the rolled parchment to Tarphrex. "You inspired me in my art today, I present this to you as payment for that."
The tiny reptilian blinks slowly, not fully comprehending what the dwarf is saying, but when Razkiv moves to hand him something, he instinctively reaches out to accept it. Very gingerly, he turns it this way and that, peering through the tube and looking at the dwarf quizzically. Tarphrex gingerly unrolls the art, careful not to tear the paper with his talons. When he sees the image contains within, he is silent, staring at it for a long time. He whispers, "Dwarf has magic sight. You see it too. I am black dragon. I will be powerful and nice black dragon." He nods fervently, looking at Razkiv. "A gift. Thank you. I will repay." He rolls it up and holds it aloft for the others at the table. "This is my hoard! Hoards have great treasures and art! I have art in my hoard!" He is absurdly pleased with this turn of events, now wide awake once more.
He will unroll and share it with anyone that cares for a closer look, beaming with pride at this new possession.
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Dol grunts as he looks on the painting, giving Razvik an odd expression. Dol understands art and the subjective nature of beauty, but to make art out of something as ephemeral as a piece of paper is incomprehensible.
"Yes, well, speaking of hoards, let's get these coins over to the mayor. We can also stop by the cathedral. Father Zantus might be willing to give us some more healing before we bunk up."
Loth nods to Zenaida in gratitude as he gets healed a bit more. He gets a bit curious about her, remembering she mentioned Magnimar. "Are you from Magnimar? Is there a temple to Falayna there? I come from there too but, and I'm embarrassed to admit, I haven't actually heard of her."
--
Loth smiles at the exchange between Razkiv and Tarphrex, though frowning a bit dubiously at Tarphrex's boasting about being a dragon. Pretty small dragon, isn't he? Nonetheless, he smiles as Tarphrex shows him the painting. "He never drew us anything before, so you must have really made an impact on him!"
--
When Dol suggests they get going, Loth nods, though he's a bit surprised to see him get so serious so quick. "Everything alright, Dol?"
Loth smiles at the exchange between Razkiv and Tarphrex, though frowning a bit dubiously at Tarphrex's boasting about being a dragon .
Realizing he said it out loud, his eyes widen once more, whispers, "Mmm, not yet. Tarphrex has dreams, show ancestors. Black dragons. They fight, they mean, some lay eggs that have kobolds, they crush. Some eggs not crushed." And he points at himself, "Ancestors. Many, many years. But dreams show kobold, show Tarphrex, growing strong, like dragon. Someday, Tarphrex be dragon." He nods solemnly, putting one scaly before his mouth. "Secret or Tarphrex killed before destiny."
Tarphrex has energy again. He stands in his chair and sets the mug, still holding a fair bit of ale, on the table before climbing down to the floor. "Tarphrex will see cath-e-dral? Cathedral is church? Big church, yes? The Father Zantus is holy man like the Zenaida? Friend?"
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When Dol suggests they get going, Loth nods, though he's a bit surprised to see him get so serious so quick. "Everything alright, Dol?"
Dol looks around at everyone getting to know each other and shrugs. "Yes, everything is fine. It simply seems like the metal is hot and we should be shaping it. Makes me a bit nervous even to be walking around town without being fully healed.
I also have some ideas in my head and wanted to head over to the forge to work through them, perhaps practice some techniques before... Well, trying them for real.
But, no, you're right, we should take time to get to know these new companions."
Zenaida leans over to see Razkiv's drawing. "Wow, you've got talent!" She looks back at the dwarf. "Ah, I didn't quite catch your name earlier."
Loth nods to Zenaida in gratitude as he gets healed a bit more. He gets a bit curious about her, remembering she mentioned Magnimar. "Are you from Magnimar? Is there a temple to Falayna there? I come from there too but, and I'm embarrassed to admit, I haven't actually heard of her."
"I'd be surprised if you had heard of her! Falayna is the empyreal lord of femininity, skill at arms, and rings. So most of those who follow her are women or jewelers." Zenaida takes a drink of her ale. "She hasn't got any temples that I know of. It's mostly Varisians who venerate the empyreal lords in Magnimar, and we tend to be more informal in our faith."
Realizing he said it out loud, his eyes widen once more, whispers, "Mmm, not yet. Tarphrex has dreams, show ancestors. Black dragons. They fight, they mean, some lay eggs that have kobolds, they crush. Some eggs not crushed." And he points at himself, "Ancestors. Many, many years. But dreams show kobold, show Tarphrex, growing strong, like dragon. Someday, Tarphrex be dragon." He nods solemnly, putting one scaly before his mouth. "Secret or Tarphrex killed before destiny."
Tarphrex has energy again. He stands in his chair and sets the mug, still holding a fair bit of ale, on the table before climbing down to the floor. "Tarphrex will see cath-e-dral? Cathedral is church? Big church, yes? The Father Zantus is holy man like the Zenaida? Friend?"
A black dragon? She doesn't know much about dragons, but Zenaida is pretty sure the black ones are bad news. "Just make sure you're a friendly dragon when the day comes, eh?" She smiles at the kobold. "A cathedral is a big church, yes. If Father Zantus is in charge of the cathedral, then he's a holy man."
The warpriest catches the end of Dol's comment and turns to look at him. "I wouldn't mind stopping by the cathedral. Always good to get to know the local clergy."
@Zenaida: You can take the average if you want. All I ask for is consistency with average or rolling. One thing for your benefit, however, is the round up on average healing spells. So 8 back to those you mentioned.
@Tarphrex: The proprietor, Ameiko, also asked to see it and makes the proper sounds to show she is impressed. She seems to find you adorable, like a puppy.
@Zenaida: Bumbo is traveling IRL.
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@Everone: I was thrilled to check the page today and see 10 new posts. 10! Fantastic. And it feels like everyone's had a chance to chat and say their introductions. Now I just need to read where you go next?
Father Zantus at the Cathedral for healing?
To the Mayor's office to drop off the gold?
To bed, to sleep, perchance to dream?
"A'ye, the gold is a heavy burden, Is there somewhere that would buy that sword?"
@Tarphrex: The proprietor, Ameiko, also asked to see it and makes the proper sounds to show she is impressed. She seems to find you adorable, like a puppy.
Tarphrex happily shares it with Ameiko and beams at her praise. As she moves on to visit with another customer, he gazes at her with, you guessed it, puppy dog eyes.
He looks at Zenaida and says, ”Definitely friend.”
Having dismissed Toot on the way back to town, Bumbo walks with a bit more confidence and cheer. He mimes the greatest of their moments in the battle as they go, often stabbing at the air and saying "remember when....." He is happy to head on and follow his friends, their bonds formed in blood.
At the Rusty Dragon, Bumbo eats - anything he can find. When the newcomers arrive, he smiles at Zenaida, happy to see another big person that he can hide behind. He giggles at the healing and gives her a big hug in thanks. You're the best already. It feels different than Dol's...his always comes with a disappointed grimace. He tries to do an impression of Dol's look of reproach. Thanks!
Tarphrex, however, he seems to welcome into the little person group with open arms - literally. He gives the little fellow a big hug, smiling cheerily. Welcome to the team! We're the.... He looks at Dol. Hey, what do we call ourselves, anyway?
So, Mayor Deverin.
Going to the town hall is simple. The large building is easy to find even if you hadn't been there a few times over the past days. Mayor Deverin's secretary rushes to inform her of your arrival and you are escorted into the council chambers where she is (still) using the over-large meeting table to accommodate the influx of reports she has to send and receive. She watches you enter with a hopeful expression and greets you with sincere words, "Even the Chopper didn't cause this much paperwork, and he was at large for years. Please tell me you have good news."
Tarphrex is taken aback by the effusive greeting from the gnome, especially considering what he's heard about gnomes and kobolds - from other kobolds - but once he realizes it's all in fun, he returns the hug as fervently as his spindly arms allow.
"Another friend! Tarphrex likes this town already!"
Zenaida startles a bit as Bumbo hugs her without warning, but quickly recovers and smiles down at the gnome. "You're very welcome, Bumbo." Spontaneous hugs are going to take some getting used to.
Loth gives the mayor a smile and simply says, "The mastermind behind Sandpoint's grief has been taken care of. We've brought her back for her to be put to justice. We'll be returning soon to further clear out the base of any straggler threats, but with this, I suspect Sandpoint will be safe for now."
The mayor grins and sits back with a sigh, tension seeming to seep out of her. Finally. Thank you all for your help. Come sit, and tell me what happened. And introduce me to your new friends.
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Zenaida bows to the mayor with a clank of armor. "Well met, Mayor. I am Zenaida Radulescu, a warpriest of Falayna from Magnimar. Your sheriff came asking for help, so my friend and I answered." She gestures to Tarphrex.
Bumbo grins throughout all of the serious talk, and looks around for sweets. Miss Mayor, it was quite the adventure! That bridge wasn't really made for Toot, but we made it through! He gets a bit sad, then. There were some dogs that they had...well, made weird. Or, maybe they started weird. Either way, we had to...sniffle...we had to put them down. Maybe for the next adventure, we could get some treats from your armory to give them so they're happy...then we don't have to fight!
"So, um... Dol introduced himself, but what are the rest of your names?"
"I have had many names in my lifetime, the one I choose to use is Razkiv, although I may not actually have the right to use it any longer."
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"Mayor. There is more to do, and Dol is eager to get back, we are heading back up to dig into the secrets of the place"
Mayor Deverin takes this all with a serious face, and puts out a hand to comfort Bumbo. It seems like you've all had quite the adventure. One you should probably relate to Cyrdak Drokkus over at the theatre. I'm sure he'd love to hear the story. And yes, Bumbo, we can get some dog biscuits for you take. I believe you're staying at the Rusty Dragon? I'll have them delivered there.
She responds to Zenaida, Thank you for coming to our aid. I'm sure with this goblin problem on the mend, we'll be safe for some while now.
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Tarphrex is mainly hiding behind Zenaida from this tribe’s king. Tarphrex has no gold for king! Maybe the bag has enough for all of us? What did Zenaida say? Oh! He leans out with a little wave and a toothy smile that he hopes is polite, ”Um, hello!”
Bumbo seems quite excited at the chance to deal with these things more amicably. He grins widely and nods, certain that he solved all of the group's issues.
"Dol, it got pretty close in there, I think if we sell the sword we might be able to enhance out ability to bounce back from some of these tougher battles."
Zenaida follows the Short Guy Squad, marveling at the feeling of being the tallest person in a group for once in her life. Not that she would say so, of course. Mentioning height around a dwarf, or a halfling with knives, is a stupid idea. Given that she wasn't there for the acquisition of their loot, she doesn't have an opinion on what to do with it.
As they leave the mayor's office, Tarphrex says too loudly, probably loud enough for Mayor Deverin to overhear, "Oh, she seems nice! Is everyone in this town a friend?"
Bumbo grins widely and claps...seemingly for their crew. They are now! We've come to be a bit tight-nit ever since the goblins started attacking. Danger tends to do that, you see.
Loth smiles a bit at Bumbo's words. "I can say without a doubt that Sandpoint is the most welcoming place I've ever been in my life. If it were up to me, yes, everyone in this town is a friend."
He mutters a bit. "Well, almost everyone." He'd remembered Hosk.