Galen stands by awkwardly waiting for the others to get the boar ready. he has never hunted, or had to butcher or transport his own animal. this trip is making him realize just how sheltered he has been in his life in the temple
Reluctantly but none-the-less spiritedly, Laurel helps prepare the beast for transport, doing his best to assist the Half-orc but mindful not to get too much into his space.
A hearty yawn betrays his muted intention to stay up as late as possible. Entering a reflective state, he considers that just earlier today, they had fought a strange wolf, entered a strange town, eaten some strange food, and witnessed the murder of a new friend.
As these thoughts pour over him, he would be silent were it not for the catchy song still stuck in his head, and Laurel can't help but hum the beat, even as he is too tired to actually sing "and a frisky and free-he-he-HO!" for what comes out instead is "Hmmhmm HmmHmm HmHm HmmHmmHmmm!".
Noting Galen's unease, Zurkha gestures to the boar. "Is dead now. Risk to us is much smaller, yes? You good with ropes, can you tie a knot? You can tie both feet together, come."
Nosh follows Zurkha and says, "Butchering boar. I don't think I've ever done one this big but it could be fun. I'll help with that." A big yawn comes from his mouth. His ridiculously wide mouth opens an alarming amount and the rows of sharp teeth become very apparent. "Lets hurry and get this thing back to town."
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"So long as we don't use my sword to do it," Findlaine says, putting her hand over the hilt protectively. Taking care of her holy weapon meant being picky about when to use it, she had learned. "The moving, though, that I can help with." The young elf flexes lean arm muscles under her armor, making a mock show of it. Though it isn't particularly Iomedaean to show off, the alcohol is doing the talking on this one.
Zurkha stops using his knife on the boar then as he stands, pulls out his hatchet, offering both up to Findlaine (flipping the handles around in his hands as he does). "Your choice, Miss Fin."
After taking a few moments to consider the two implements, Findlaine reaches for the hatchet. "I think," she says, taking a deep breath to center herself. "If I'm close enough to use that dagger I'll end up throwing up what little I have eaten."
Zurkha frowns at that thought. "Turn to side before you do that. We have old saying, dates back to our time in the Darklands. 'You puke on it,you bought it.'"
Galen watches the butchering with interest but doesn't make any move to help as he has no idea what to do and worries he would just get in the way. he is definitely interested in watching though.
"Nosh, be sure to cut around wherever you hit this thing with the acid, yes? Or that part is yours."
Marny is a good hand with this kind of work, and you soon have the boar broken down into enough primal cuts to carry back to the Feedmill for cooking. Hopefully Amora will show up and make something of it.
It is very late by the time you return and you are properly exhausted. As you get upstairs, a note has been pinned to he first of your doors.
"Bort was more than just a merchant, more than just the boss. He was my friend. We won’t leave here until we’ve found out who did this. Rolth’s a fool, but I’d be an even greater fool if I thought I could get to the bottom of this. Fixing wagons and moving goods, that’s my job. But you might be able to figure out who killed Bort and get justice for him. Please, uncover who did this.
- Tamli"
You get to your rooms, and pass out. Hard.
---
The follow mid-morning you awaken and blearily head downstairs. You hear Amora singing in the kitchen and Delma is there to greet you.
"You lot are already heroes, I thought Amora wouldn't come back for nothing. And she comes back to freshly-killed boar!"
"Butchered competently too, I might add!" calls out the boistrous cook.
Delma sighs and settles with you as you down your turnip scramble with turnip juice. "You all took off right away and we appreciate that - couple of matters to attend to. This murder is above the jurisdiction of the sheriff. As such, Rolth is insisting that he hold the carvan and you lot in town until the circuit judge arrives... in a month."
She lets that sink in. "However, you're already trying to solve this, and that will fix things much faster. In the meantime, we gotta talk about room and board. If you're taking up all my rooms I have to charge you to stay viable. Room and board is five silver a day but I'm willing to cut you a discount if you help me out with a few things while you're looking into this. Interested?"
Zur sleeps fitfully, Tamli's note weighs heavily on him. Before they go downstairs in the morning, Zur addresses any of the others that will listen. "We, um, seem to have a lot of hope riding on us. We can go talk to this Phinnick fellow later, but I do not have much, um, experience with how humans handle these matters. My skills are mainly in the area of catting things into small pieces. We've got this, right?"
Zurkha grins at Amora's call from the kitchen. "Of course. As I said to comrades earlier, you want something cut into smaller pieces, you get an orc to do it, eh?" He laughs, and shows just enough tusk to (unintentionally) be a little unnerving about it.
As Delma's brings up the topic of room and board, Zur blanches at the thought of five silvers (or maybe it's the turnip scramble). He replies, "Madame Delma, I'm not going to put you out of rooms for paying customers. If there is just a clean spot of floor somewhere out of the way I can put my bedroll, I will gladly give up my room." He looks at the others, a little sheepish. "I am too much of a derevenshchina*, I'm afraid a bed is too much civilization for me. I'm still okay with those biscuits, though." He turns back to Delma again. "You spoke of help we could provide. Please go on..."
Laurel and Marin evaluate the exorbitant pricing of the lodge, and decide that, for the next month, it makes the most sense to sleep outside (perhaps near the wagon) for most of the week, but on the Sunday, to get a private room, if for no other reason than to at least bathe once a week, which Laurel decides to do "whether he needs it or not" (according to Marin).
Marin is interested in helping out, but Laurel is not, at least, he insists that he would be best put to work "On gard fer more'a dem wooves n' tuskfussers cuz i'm real fast like THIS and like THAT..." (demonstrating in his usual way).
...
When the boy rouses, he bounds downstairs, drawn by Amora's singing, and sneaks over to steal a listen:
He has been "patiently" waiting for the other adults to draw the same conclusion as he - viewing Phinnick as a logical next stop in the investigation - and giving his new friends the benefit of the doubt, has decided to refrain from beating that dead horse. Instead, now following Zurkha's lead:
"Ha! Er ya git a Vare-Iss-Ian ta do it!" and twirling his starknife to dialogue with the joke. He pauses a moment to allow Zurkha to react (hopefully laugh). Whether or not that happens, Laurel bounces up to help clear the dishes, and is practically chomping at the bit to get going to Phinnick's.
Laurel silently decides that, since they are stuck here for a month, he will continue to search the whole town up and down for his siblings he lost since before he boarded Bort's caravan...
Zurkha laughs along at Laurel's comment, but never takes his eyes off the knife the whole time the boy brandishes is at the table, his demeanor rapidly shifting to wariness.
Galen is not sure what they are going to do with themselves for a full month here, but he doesn't see much else to be said about it for now.
Maybe if we can get to the bottom of this ourselves we can get everything done before the judge arrives. hopefully some more leads will show themselves today. with nothing much else to do for a while I personally would be happy to help out around here in exchange for room and board. what tasks did you have in mind?
Nosh takes his time setting up the Alarm spell in his room that night, and sleeps soundly. In the morning, he drags out of bed and prepares his spells , casting Detect Magic before heading down to eat breakfast. He is probably one of the last ones down that morning and comes in as Delma is commenting on Room and board. Nosh grabs a seat next to the others and says, "Surely the boar can buy us a night or 2? We can double up on rooms as well can't we? I don't take much space." Nosh settles down when the turnip scramble is brought out and says, "Of course we can do some work, we just had a long night and we already have things to do for the sheriff. Speaking of which, has anyone seen Phinnick this morning?"
Nosh glances around and
Findlaine wakes up feeling much better than the night before, and after donning her armor and performing morning devotions to her goddess she comes downstairs to join the rest of the group.
"Come now, all, a month isn't too bad," she says, stopping to think on it. "At five silvers a night for the lot of us we're looking at one-hundred fifty silver before we leave town. Some honest work could do us all some good, I'd say. What do you have in mind?"
"Thirty-eight blue and grey slaad at the door, thirty-eight blue and grey slaaad!
You take one down they gate in two more, thirty-nine blue and grey slaad at the door!"
Delma smiles. "We can work something out about the boar, let's call it free board tonight if you can help me with this one thing. See, I'm the mayor's daughter. He owns the Feedmill and he's real old and senile. With the damage of the fight and everyone coming to me about Bort, I don't have time to see to him. Could you strapping adventurers take him out for a stroll? He knows a lot, maybe he knows something about the town that can help you with your investigation."
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"We would be delighted to do this thing, to which we are perfectly well suited," Zurkha says, stepping backwards as he talks so that Findlaine is in front of him.
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Shooting Zurkha a withering glance before turning back to Delma, Findlaine straightens up. "We would be rather well suited to that, I think," she says, pointing back at the half-orc with her thumb over her shoulder. "Especially that one. No harm will come to your father, I assure you. I'd love to hear his thoughts on the townsfolk and maybe some history in the region."
Zurkha is so alarmed by Findlaine's glance that he takes another step backwards, interposing Galen between himself and the Iomedan woman. "Sounds great, I'm all for it," he says, with iffy levels of enthusiasm. Old roshka man, is a few arrows short of a quiver in the head, this should go great. I wonder how many times all of this man's problems will come back around to 'my people'...
Delma claps her hands delightedly. "Good! You let me know if you want to take him out now or in a bit."
I would be more than happy to spend some time with the mayor, ma'am. I am definitely interested in hearing more about this town and things that have been happening nearby. we are in the middle of an investigation however. He looks over at Nosh and Zurkha who seem less than enthusiastic about this chore.
Perhaps I can go see to the mayor while my companions go and speak to Phinnick.
Perhaps I can go see to the mayor while my companions go and speak to Phinnick.
"Nyet, will stay with you," Zurkha chimes in. "But maybe we find this Phinnick first, then go on long, aimless walk?"
"While I agree we should not split, I'm not sure about what we should make out priority," Findlaine says, cupping her hand around her chin in thought. "While I agree Phinnick is our lead suspect, we don't have any leads on how to find him. Why search blindly when we could help folks in town and gather some information?"
"While I agree Phinnick is our lead suspect, we don't have any leads on how to find him. Why search blindly when we could help folks in town and gather some information?"
"Is probably better plan than the one I was coming up with," Zurkah says without elaboration. Your way would never have worked anyway, he thinks to himself, looking at Laurel. Boy would have slipped off leash and run off into the wild, is no good.
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Nosh looks from Zurkha to Findlaine, back and forth and cowers in his chair with his turnip scramble. He pipes up to Delma and says, "Do you know if Phinnick has any friends? Family? Anyone who would know where he lives? Also, when will we eat the boar? I miss meat already."
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"Is probably better plan than the one I was coming up with," Zurkah says without elaboration. Your way would never have worked anyway, he thinks to himself, looking at Laurel. Boy would have slipped off leash and run off into the wild, is no good.
Laurel cocks an eyebrow at Zurkha's thoughtful glance.
Upon realizing Laurel is staring at him, Zurkha grins, nods, and goes back to refining his plan...
While you've been talking among yourselves, Delma has vanished. Soon, she returns with a very old man in a pushcart that's been modified into a sort of wheelchair.
"Hm? We don't pry round these parts..." she trails off. "Well we do actually but I don't know who Phinick calls friend. His time out of the Feedmill is his own - he's a private little goblin. But more importantly, let me introduce you to Mayor Targen Fulst my father."
He peers at you all. "Eh? These lot? Gah! They have a goblin! What are you doing Delma?"
Delma smiles through her teeth. "Nosh is a very nice goblin. Now, you give them your town tour. They're helping solve a murder and I"m sure you'll be very pleasant to them."
She waves at you. "Thank you all so much. There'll be a feast tonight let me tell you!" And with that she's gone as quickly as she can manage.
The old man in the wheelchair glares at you.
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Through clenched teeth, remembering his manners despite himself, Laurel manages to squeeze out "Allo there me names Laurel an' these 'ere ar me com-rads but really we be Dep-Yu-Tized whut fer figurin' out what dun ol' Bort in..." and after a brief bow, returns his gaze, dejected, back at the group of adults - zeroing in somewhat on Zurkha - and continuing "...for tha trale git cold..." and with that, Laurel proceeds around to the back of the pushcart, clutches it's handles and gently tests it's stability, and asks the mayor "...SO! Whut'n ya wants ta show us ferst? Me 'ere I'm the stong one o' tha group don' be fooled ba me size in all cuz i packs a wallop rest ashured ye be safe wit me mister Delma."
Diplomacy
As Laurel moves to push the Mayor around, Zurkha asks the youth, "Have you got that? Be careful with him." Looking back down at the glaring man, Zurkha tentativly says, "Privet, shef.* My name is Zurkha, and your daughter thought you might like to show us around your fine town." He extends his right fist toward the Mayor, almost as if one was going to let a dog sniff, before he remembers, Nyet, they do the thing with the hands! And changes to an open hand offereing a shake.
Nosh cowers behind the others so that the old man won't look at him, you never want people paying you too much attention. He warms a little when Delma says he's a good goblin, but startles a bit when Laurel takes the handles and whispers to him, "Be careful with the old man, he is probably very fragile!"
"Very nice to meet you, sir. unfortunate what happened to Bort last night. we are going to do whatever we can to help find out what happened and help you get things back to normal. please, tell us what you know about the town and the people here. it is a very pleasant day for a walk
The man looks at Laurel with a blank stare before he bursts into a grin. "Ah what a lovely youngin'! THey don't make 'em like that any more. Proper manners not like the rest of these mewling bastards in this town."
He seems to have been cheered up immensely by Laurel and shakes Zurkha's with a trembling handshake.
"This way! This young fella can push me. Most outsiders have no respect for our town. Call it PLaguestone. Feh!"
He twists a little in his chair, pointing a shaking finger at the Feedmill. "I opened the Feedmill fifty years ago! The Goblinbood Wars took so much of my family.... but here, I'll show you the real plaguestone."
He points with his cane, leading you into the centre of the town where the strange stone lies.
"The plague. Our curse. Across the way there you see abandoned buildings. So many of them - that's where the afflicted lived. They would come here to the stone. Us healthy ones would leave goods at the plaguestone and they'd come and take them. Filled the hole with vinegar to clean the coins they left behind."
He breaks off into a hacking fit.
"Everyone suspected a local witch called Silwyth of starting the plague. We were fools though... she caught it and died herself. And before she died, she cursed our only priest. Father Bolgrist. He caught the plague and died soon after. She left a child... Vilree I think her name was. She stuck around a few years but probably died or ran off."
"Are you sure it was definitely a curse that claimed the priest? If there was plague going around, it wouldn't take much more than wrong place, wrong time..."
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Laurel beams in the sunlight of the old man's praise, puffing his chest in Zurkha's general direction at the mention of his name being chosen to push the cart, presumably for his strength of body as well as of character, he reasons.
A lover of stories, and for the time being having forgotten the investigation, Laurel awaits it's continuation: Hopefully more on Vilree, or how the town finally banished the plague, or if those abandoned building were ever rehabitated.
Signaling his interest by tilting his neck slightly forward, lifting his eyebrows, drifting his eyeballs sideways, smiling, and pausing the movement of the cart...
Abandoned buildings seem like a pretty great place to squat if you're a goblin trying to avoid attention.
"This way young man! Nice and steady - that's right. REspect for your elders, unlike -some-, hpmh. We're going to the Drunk Shepherd's path. No sheep though. Got drunk and they wandered off! HAHAHAHAHA"
You wheel him along a long path that skirts the eastern side of town as he blathers on. Soon enough, you see an overgrown stone structure of some kind up ahead on your right.
"Shrine right here... not that many people pay respect. No real religious service in town after Father Bolgrist died. Think its Gozreh now; it's served other purposes."
(Push, push, push...)
"What other perpusses Mr. Delma, like, if'n iss a shrine ta Gozreh iss a shrine ta Gozreh know whet I mean?"
Galen is a little surprised at the run-down look of the shrine. even though he serves Sarenrae rather than Gozreh the sight of a completely untended shrine surprises him and makes him feel more than a little sad
"so this whole village... and no priests? how was the plague healed without the help of a cleric? do any other deities have places of worship here?"
Galen peers at the outside of the shrine, itching to go in a look around. he has learned a little of other religions, but has spent very little time in their shrines.
- for anything galen might know about Gozreh and his clerics, or to notice anything weird about this shrine
for anything Galen might know about treating a plague or if he has learned anything about this particular plague from talk around town.
Zurkha keeps pace with the group, and if anything seems amiss he'll check it out.
Nosh pipes up from behind Zurkha and says, "Perhaps we should take a stroll around the north side of town. Might be interesting. Nosh says this trying to keep out of the line of sight of the mayor.
Nosh is going to be looking specifically for signs of Phinnick. He doesn't want to give away his hidey-hole.
This may not be the enlightening journey that I was hoping it would be after all...
Findlaine will keep an eye out like Zurkha. She remains mostly silent, just doing her best to try and parse the information from the old man and keep an eye out for any goblins that aren't Nosh.
As you take a look at the shrine there's suddenly a loud, low buzzing sound. Emerging from behind the shrine are four enormous bat-winged insects that resemble overblown mosquitoes. They start speeding for the group, clearly hungry for blood!
Targen lets out a yelp of panic and starts trying to wheel backwards but just collides into Laurel.
Laurel
Findlaine
---
Bloodseekers
---
Nosh
Galen
Zurkha
Protecting the mayor, Laurel tumbles in front to prevent the bloodsuckers from attacking him, drawing his "lucky" Starknife and "side" dagger.
(A) Stride
(B) Draw Starknife
(B) Draw Dagger
"Don' you worry mister Delma - me an' the gang know jes' whut ta do." To the incoming bloodseekers: "C'mon ya Stingy Flapsuckers!! Ya' wan' sum o' dis crew dun mess wit we got all the spade and speckle 'n we'na SWAT ya ghodwicken stungbummer out from the air an' step on ya squishy Under-Middles!" He taunts.