Ralrae shakes his head slowly, not in negation; just in reaction to the note. "Well, I guess we don't get much choice to avoid him without also avoiding answers to some questions... I'll come along, Sprig. And keep an eye on him while you do the listening. Sound good?"
Saraon takes in the atmosphere of the saloon with a warm smile, and listens as the conversation goes on.
"Sounds fine. I'll accompany you as well, to meet this strange 'man with no name'."
The party heads outside to meet the stranger. They look up put out their cigar. Their hand is very clearly made of metal, as they tamp out the cigar on it without noticing. The voice, seemingly belonging to a woman, is low and rough as it says, ”So, decided to come talk? I’ve got to say, I’ve heard some things about you all. In any case, you might be up to the task. There’s a group of raiders, the Daughters of Xokar. Their leader took something valuable that belongs to me. I think you have what it takes to get it back.”
She's got a metal hand? One of those clankers? Despite his misgivings, Sprig breaks into his favorite smile. "Well sure thing. Ah think mah folks 'r rarin' for some action. Ah can't promise we'll get it right away, but we're happy t' help those in need. Jes' need t' know a few things. What're we lookin' for, where are we lookin' an' best of all, how much 'r you payin' ?"
The little lizard eyes sparkle with avarice when he says the last one.
"Is the item they took a secret? What do you know about the daughters of Xokar?"
Saraon is a little stunned and more than a little embarrassed at mistaking this WOMAN-with-No-Name for a man-with-no-name.
"I'm always ready for more...weeding, so to speak. Uprooting these raiders to let the innocent grow."
Brindle shadows the group, loitering nearby and keeping an eye one who else might be watching the meeting...
”They took something of...sentimental value, and I need it back. It’s an orb about the size of two fists held together, inscribed with angular patterns on the outside. The Daughters of Xokar are a group of raiders with a penchant for energy weapons. This particular band of them is holed up in a ruin three days east of Exchange, towards a little town called Kildain.”
She pauses before saying, ”I suppose it’s always about the payment. I’ll pay 2000 coins, if you want it in full. I’ve also got supply caches throughout the region. If you’re willing to give up some immediate payment, I’ll give you the codes to them. I think they’ll come in handy.”
Energy weapons? Sprig feigns a pained expression. "You wound me, madam. As much as Ah'd love t' work for free, actual helps my plans move forward. Your proposal sounds fair and Ah'm more'n innerested in keepin' the roads safer fer travel. We'll make our way out there in a week's time, maybe less."
The kobold turns to his compatriots and says, "Y'all interested on cash or codes?"
”I want sh...sooop. And enajee weapinz.” Brindle votes.
”But why we wait to leave? Letsh get this done!” the gnoll says with a hint of frustration, perhaps the thought of more soup high in her mind.
Ralrae thinks for a moment before responding to Sprig's question. "I would say we don't need immediate coin; waiting a little now for a better reward sounds like the more interestin' route, myself." He laughs at Brindle's enthusiasm. "I don't care one way or another about soup, necessarily. But energy weapons do sound interesting, and I certainly don't see much reason to wait; maybe we can take tomorrow morning for Sprig to setup some deals, and give them a week to be ready? We can get there, clean up the area, and return in that timeframe."
Ralrae is confident in his voice and his manner, sure that their group of collective misfits can put some bandits down and retrieve the stolen keepsake. Along with everything else of value, of course.
Saraon doesn't speak, but listens quietly.
"I'm more than content to forego immediate payment. In our hands, those energy weapons will be able to do more good than just sitting in caches...and be prevented from causing harm, should they fall into the wrong hands."
Sprig yawns slowly. "Well, there we have it. Ah suppose we'll be takin' those coordinates as payment. Seems like a good deal t' me... For now though, it's late. Ah'm thinking' we turn in and get started sniffin' around in the morrow."
Unless there's more to do, Sprig purchases four rooms and stabling for the horses . He also assigns Lefty to guard the wagon with Brindle over the night.
*****
Despite paying for the bed, Sprig instead takes all the sheets and crawls underneath to sleep there. The dark and claustrophobic setting is comforting for him.
In the morning, he's up early and knocks on Bas's door. "Hey Bas, yew ever hear about which bandit gang was prowlin' around th' Tree? If not, how about we sniff around town t' see what's what? Don't firget t' sharpen that axe o' yers too! We're headin' fer trouble."
Saraon takes to bed and rises early, greeting the sun and then rejoining the others just in time to hear Sprig's question to Bas.
"I can check too, Sprig, if you wish."
He proceeds to canvas the town as discreetly as he can.
Asking around, Saraon learns from an older woman closing up the saddler’s shop for the night that about half a dozen unsavory characters did pass through Exchange a few days back, though they didn’t stay long.
The night passes uneventfully. The beds are damn comfortable, and come morning, the bar sports a small array of breakfast, with a platter of biscuits, some rashers of bacon and eggs, and a large pot of coffee.
Sprig yawns slowly. "Well, there we have it. Ah suppose we'll be takin' those coordinates as payment. Seems like a good deal t' me... For now though, it's late. Ah'm thinking' we turn in and get started sniffin' around in the morrow."
Unless there's more to do, Sprig purchases four rooms and stabling for the horses . He also assigns Lefty to guard the wagon with Brindle over the night.
*****
Despite paying for the bed, Sprig instead takes all the sheets and crawls underneath to sleep there. The dark and claustrophobic setting is comforting for him.
In the morning, he's up early and knocks on Bas's door. "Hey Bas, yew ever hear about which bandit gang was prowlin' around th' Tree? If not, how about we sniff around town t' see what's what? Don't firget t' sharpen that axe o' yers too! We're headin' fer trouble."
Yawning and stretching the large mam sort of shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.
"You know mr. Sprig, Shelia told me all sorts of things about some of the local bandits, but uh... I was so focused on how pretty she was and how ugly I am I didnt really .. uh I dont remeber much about what she told me on that group I'm sorry."
Ralrae steps lightly down to the breakfast table, availing himself of the fare there after a good nights rest. When Sprig and Saraon come down, he hails them towards some empty seats nearby. "G'morning! Looks like a great day for going out and turning up whatever might be found. I know I'd like to go looking through that general shop. Any other places on your to-do list?"
Saraon, having already been up and about, returns to join the others, thanking their host profusely for the delicious food.
"About a half-dozen suspicious-looking strangers came through here not too long ago, but I couldn't get more information about where they were bound. Nevertheless, I suspect we'll run into them regardless of where we head, to deal with the raiders we've been asked to find or to head straight for the Tree."
Sprig laughs a little, "Ugly? Ah think yer a fine human Bas. Yer walkin' th' right path an' that's all that matters! 'Sides, most yew humans look similar, Ah don't think yer ugly."
As they make their way to breakfast, Sprig eyes the coffee pot with intense interest. Ralrae makes himself known and the kobold nods his head to tiefling's words over a hot cuppa. "Well, I think the general store's a good place to start an' if anyone knows who's causin' trouble, it'd be th' town guard. I'd like t' get a lil' shopping done new in th' meantime."
Saraon's words are a relief to the kobold. "A half dozen? That seems manageable enough, glad we ain't runnin' headfirst into forty thieves."
Sprig heads to Mort's general store, looking to purchase a poncho not unlike the one their newest client was wearing for Brindle. Hopefully one with little beaded strands attached, to give a "mystical" feel. He also has the Bills and Shot set up the table and open the wagon for business, Lefty gets to take a break.
Brindle will accompany Sprig, she is sure to be equal parts amazed, perplexed and excited by the items on offer. She may need help and will ask many questions.
How much gold do we have from our first job/s?
The door to Mort’s is open, and a slightly portly mustachioed man stands behind the counter. When Brindle and Sprig the man’s eyebrows furrow in confusion before he realizes who just arrived, ”Ah, you must be Sprig! I’ve heard a bit about you. The mayor tells me that you and a posse cleared out a bandit camp near High Gulch.”
After a bit of haggling, Sprig manages to get 900 for all the goods, and Mort offers to throw in a poncho for Brindle. Though not quite as bright as the stranger’s, it’s got a good hood and half a dozen pockets on the inside.
Sprig smiles a wide grin, "Ah'd put the majority of the weight on mah companion's shoulders. They did the heavy liftin' not me. Like this one 'ere!" Sprig pats Brindle on the back. "She prolly saved my life more'n once, so that's why I'm gettin' 'er a little somethin'."
Sprig also picks up a bottle of whiskey for Bas, but isn't certain what to get Saraon or Ralrae. He spent a time looking through the wares with Brindle and Ralrae before going back to his wagon and getting ready to raid a bandit camp.
Saraon waits for Sprig to return from the shop.
While perusing the wares in Mort's store, a thought strikes the kobold. "Err... Ah happened t' hear about there bein' a dig site nearby. Yew wouldn't happen t' come across anythin' from there? Ah know some o' them baubles can be mighty useful."
”Hm, don’t recall a dig site too close by. I do have a couple of bits of tech that you might be interested in.”
Mort turns to the glass case behind the counter and brings it over, opening it so that the folks in the shop can take a look.
He points to a metal cylinder with a thin seam running around the middle, ”From what the scavenger told me, this here doohickey explodes when you twist and pull it,” he then motions to a dark metal tube about a half a foot long with a button on the end and continues, ”the same feller brought me this. Push the button and it lights up better than any torch.” He then points at what looks like a pair of sleek glasses, ”This here’s quite the spectacle. Put these on and blink twice, it acts almost like a telescope. An added bonus, you flip a switch and they go dark, so no more noonday sun shootin’ daggers at your eyes.” He finally shows off the last pieces of tech, ”These here ‘re batteries, you use ‘em to keep these things workin’. Well, side from the exploding thing of course. If you’re curious ‘bout any of these, we can hash out what it’ll run you.”
Ralrae makes a small noise of appreciation. The actual function of the tech devices doesn't really impress him - his magic may not be selected to replicate these same abilities, but it could be if he chose - but instead he is impressed at the non-magical nature of the abilities. Anyone, anyone at all could use these devices. Without study, or trial and error. Though with the sounds of the exploding object, some risk may still be involved...
He points towards the glasses. [b]"Those could be useful outside of civilization. What do you think, Sprig? Could it be worth looking at?"[/b}
"Ah think they're pretty useful, least for me. The sun's never been too kind on my eyes. Might have t' get it tinker'd with t' fit mah face though." Sprig snaps his reptilian jaw for effect.
He scratches his nose absent-mindedly. "Never know when we might need an explosive too, though Ah can make somethin' similar if a bit less fancy. how much yew lookin fer th' two of 'em?"
Sprig peers at the items with an appraiser's eye, but doesn't have much luck.
Saraon fold his arms nonchalantly as he waits for the more civilized members of the band to finish their shopping.
”I’m lookin’ for 700 for the both of ‘em.”
"Well, shoot. Ah can't spare th' funds right now, perhaps we come back some other time. I have a feelin' there's a big score on th' horizon." Sprig takes his leave.
Once he meets up with the others, the kobold starts packing his bags to go. "Alright, we ready t' mosey on outta here? We can take th' wagon with us 'er leave it 'ere, whatta ya'll think?"
"Willing and able. I imagine we'll be returning here, so it might be best to leave the wagon. It could make us a target."
After much reluctance to enter the store, Brindle manages to make her way inside. The smells are unfamiliar, and some almost overpowering to her sensitive snout. But the sights! Everywhere she looks objects and items of unknown provenance and mysterious function.
With her companions’ at first patient, and, as time wears on, somewhat flustered aid and advice (depending on each companion’s relative store of patience) Brindle is coaxed to purchase items she thinks will be useful - a careful navigation away from asking “what is that” about every item toward being asked what she actually wants or needs and a little advice to that end.
“Paying” small discs of metal to gain loot is wondrous to the gnoll, and her burgeoning understanding of the relative wealth in her pack and pouch create a sense of worth and future potential...for herself and her tribe...
”Thank you, all. Thank you!” she gushes to her companions hoarsely.
Rather than go into a long lecture about coin and how it's used, the kobold focuses on the important things.
Sprig makes sure to tell Brindle what forks are for. For the longest time, he'd thought they were tools for killing vermin and called them "ratstickers". "These things 'r for staking yer claim on a piece of meat. First person t' stick a tasty morsel gets t' eat it!"
He excitedly tries to help Brindle understand what everything is, giving somewhat dubious explanations on everything she points out. The kobold is himself confused on some things as well.
At Brindle's grateful response, he looks rather bashful and says, "Shucks... it tain't much, wasn't so long ago Ah was tryin' t' learn all this fer' misself."