Dot.
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For such a sleepy town, any news from the outside is exciting, provoking much discussion and gossip through the early spring nights, even news that affects Outside and not the residents of Lyon's Brook.
It was Galdron Tem, the first peddler of the year up from Crossbridge (the small waystation town at the convergence of the Brokenbridge and Falling Rivers) who first brought the news of the escape. Bonita, the crazed Shoanti barbarian woman, who (along with some undisclosed incidents of theft) had murdered ten people, including children, and sucked the marrow from their bones, had escaped a Skathen prison in the early winter. Authorities were convinced that, rather than flee for her native Varisia, she has slowly been making her way down the Brokenbridge river, perhaps even through Crossbridge itself, though no deaths or cannibalism had been reported there as yet. Maybe she was planning to head west into the wilds of Verduran, or maybe not. Everyone should just lock and bar their doors at night, is all Tem is saying. Of course, most people in Lyon's Brook don't have locks on their doors in the first place.
Still, it was enough to make folks nervous. Farmers began jumping at shadows, shepherds saw movement out of the corners of their eyes, and even Martus Iullus, out on a hunting trip to the notheast, clearly saw a woman in wild clothing carrying a small, wriggling bundle through the woods, but before he could get a shot off at her, she vanished without a trace. Not even Flavino could find a trace. Whispers of moonshine began to circulate with the others, and folks looked at Martus funny for a couple weeks after that.
But the news kept coming. The first merchant from Maheto confirmed that a massive manhunt was underway, and a bounty of 500 gold pieces is offered for the fugitive, dead or alive. The second merchant brought tales of Imperial Naval ships up the Brokenbridge river and a bounty of 1,000 gold pieces. Of course, everybody knows that things this exciting never happen in Lyon's Brook.
So it was a surprise when, late in the evening the day before last, Cohortes Mallond Finchus rode into town. The Abadarian inquisitor, cohortes for the northern parts of Krearis prefecture, has come to form well-armed search parties to scour the wilderness around Lyon's Brook for signs of the fugitive's presence. He also brought a wanted poster with a 2,000 gp reward for her capture.
The burgomeister and his deputy will be each forming a team, as will Martus Iullus. Of course, the teams are full, but that doesn't stop almost the entire town from coming out to the steps of the Church to see the heroes off and wish them well.
She isn’t alone, of course, with her father hovering an arm’s length away, and many if not lost of Lyon’s Brook’s citizenship is in attendance. The mysterious elven wizard Elrithrathiel stands aloof by herself—the hero of the goblin invasion is sure to be chosen for one of the search teams—the trouble-maker Marcus has come out (why that boy bothered to return to town you’ll never know) and even Sir Eustus has roused himself, complete with the husky warrior who recently arrived to live at the manor estate. Nobody really knows much about the man, though that doesn’t stop Pullia from waggling her fingers at him, too.
As you continue to scan the crowd, you see another rarity beyond the excitement of the day: another stranger, a road-weary half-elf is making his way along the deserted street towards the gathered crowd.
It’s a large crowd of Lyon’s Brook citizenry that has gathered this morning. The mysterious elven wizard Elrithrathiel stands aloof by herself—the hero of the goblin invasion is sure to be chosen for one of the search teams—the popinjay Varian has come out (could that boy look more like a ponce if he even tried) and even Sir Eustus has roused himself, complete with the husky warrior who recently arrived to live at the manor estate. With such a mix, at any given point in time, somebody is scowling at him.
But what is this? Fresh blood! Beyond the crowd, a stranger, a travel-weary half-elf is making his way up the empty road towards the gathered crowd.
”I thought I smelled something fishy this morning, so I knew Thraag had to be in town,” Randal’s friendly tone pipes up from behind him. The shepherd boy nods respectfully towards the eidolon, ”Mr. Thraag. Glad to see you’re wearing pants today. You guys seen any cannibals out by The Lake?”
Before you can even reply, you suddenly realize that you’ve wandered past Elrithrathiel, the mysterious even wizard, bumped elbows with Grahm, Sir Eustus’s enigmatic ward, and right through the crowd right out into the open area at the foot of the steps, and you drop a couple fish in your haste to get out of the centre of view. Of course, nobody really seems to have noticed as you make your way to the back of the crowd.
Thraag the elder seems to ignore Randal’s playful banter, as usual, and instead is staring down a travel-weary half-elf making his way up the empty road towards the crowd. Lots of excitement all around today, it seems.
Having arrived, you help the old man down the steps, though he's still quite spry for man of his years. Halvers climbs down from his driver's seat and fetches a folding chair for his master. The man is a bit stuffy--well, the man is a full-on, stuck-up prude--but he serves the old knight well and loyally, and he withdraws back to the carriage, ready and waiting for Sir Eustus' next need.
"My boy," Sir Eustus says to you, "I feel that I will have Halvers drive me back as soon as the groups here have left, but why don't you take the day and enjoy yourself in town?" He hands you two gold coins. "That should do you for a bit of shopping and lunch--I'm sure you will enjoy a chance to eat something other than old man food for a change--and I'll send Halvers in the carriage to pick you up before the supper gong rings so you can change."
Before you can reply, you feel a bump at your elbow, as a rather pungent fisherman carelessly pushes past you, stumbling out into the open with a large catch in his arms. You’d think such a character would stand out in your kind, despite your infrequent visits to town, but you struggle to put a name to him. Tharg? Thrack? Something like that.
As the fisherman and his half-naked companion head to the back of the crowd, your height allows you a good view of a travel-weary half-elf walking up the empty road towards the crowd. Perhaps this is a good day to explore a bit on his own.
If you'd known how truly close you were, you would have pushed on last night instead of making camp. Not fifteen minutes after setting out this morning, you first heard the roar of a not-so-distant waterfall, and ten minutes after that, crested a hill to see the large village of Lyon's Brook laid out in the valley before you. It's a quaint alpine town, nestled along a bubbling stream within a shallow, narrow valley. A circular stone tower rises up on the edge of a cliff to your right and the road in front of you forks: the right branch leading towards the tower, while the left branch carries you down and into the valley itself.
Reaching the bottom, the road intersects another at roughly right angles. To your right, the road leads along the waterfall's pool towards a bridge and gristmill. To your left, the road follows the stream past several once glorious manor houses (the one directly across from you a burnt out rubble). Straight ahead, another bridge leads, first along a large village Green, and then into the centre of town.
The town seems abandoned. Even as early as it is, there should be somebody out on the Green or walking the streets, but what you can see is empty, save for a wizzled old woman asleep in a rocking chair on the porch of her cottage across the Green from you. Once around the Green and away from the roar of falling water, you hear the dim buzz of voices down the street and see that some sort of gathering is taking place at the steps of a local church: the Church of Abadar, if you're not mistaken. No other faith would have a building so opulent (others might say garish) in such a small village.
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While Thraag the Elder moves to stand behind him and look over the crowd to see if any of the other half-orcs in town had somehow found themselves in this crowd. And to see if the fancy person that his family member had bumped into might take offense at being touched by a fisher.
Thraag the Younger looks over at Randal who had drifted towards the back of the crowd with them and says, "What is this? Why would there be cannibals by the lake?" Thraag tries scanning the crowd for any sign of Mistress Hereia as he asks "Was someone hurt?
Randal shakes his head, pausing to put a hand on his temple for a moment, wincing in pain. ”No, nobody hurt. A bigwig from Maheto showed up night before last with a big reward poster for the cannibal and news he was making search parties to go hunt her down, just in case she came up this way, as if anybody would ever choose to come here!”
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Marcus listens to Papus's advice, nodding slowly. "I understand. I'll watch for an opportunity of course. Irori will guide me and I won't do anything rash!"
Marcus stands tall watching and listening. He keeps his distance from those that he knows don't want him around. The wizard Elrithrathiel is a sight, but he gives her barely a glance. The stranger with Sir Eustus gets some attention, but then he notices the half-elf approaching town. A stranger? Ignoring the scowls that he can almost feel boring into him he carefully navigates his way to get a little closer. Maybe he could hear the conversations?
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Varian had been back for almost a month and had discovered, nothing much had changed. Save perhaps him. He had been more withdrawn for a few weeks after returning, having had a couple sobering experiences where for once he had to sit and think about some things rather than waving them away with a smile and joke or song. Of course, he hadn't worked a day since his return, couldn't let people think he'd gone "normal" now could he?
He stood among the crowd as he does on those rare occasions he is not the center of attention. Though he likely can't help but catch peoples eyes what with his garishly colorful and eloquent attire purchased from the city during his trip. His Blade resting in its scabbard at his hilt, and his instrument strung up on his back. Upon noticing Marcus, Varian gives a cocky smile and wave of his fingers in a friendly but maybe demeaning way.
At Pullia's gesture, Varian returns it in kind with a playful smirk added along side a small flourish of a hat. Sending his long wavy hair flowing. Though, when he notices her wave to the ward, he frowns slightly and continues to scan the crowd before noticing the new face. His eyes narrow slightly in surprise before a smile spreads across his lips and he saunters over to the newcomer.
Ah, well a hearty hello to you! I assume it is tales of myself that bring you to our small town?
The half-elf travels along the road slowly, and stops twice to fiddle with a couple to objects he held on the way. One was a map of sorts, the other a metallic object that glinted in the morning sun.
"I have to be close. I just know it! There shouldn't be that many waterfalls around here, and there's still a road, at least. That's a good sign, right? Just a little further."
It's a huge relief when the old, sleeping woman meterialises at the edge of his sight. If nothing else, he could travel back down the road later and ask here where he'd taken a wrong turn.
Blessed twice were the murmers of the people. So, this *was* a town! Maybe even a village? It was hard to tell them apart on hearing...
Well, only one thing to it?
He pocketed his compas and map and headed in the direction of the rumors. He didn't have long to wonder about what was causing such a large gathering when a stylish gentleman makes his way over to him.
"Ah, well a hearty hello to you! I assume it is tales of myself that bring you to our small town?"
He chuckles once, very much amused. "Not unless your name is Elrithrathiel, good sir. Which I don't quite expect as I imagined her a bit more..." he looks Varian up and down with a smile. "...Feminime, as well as elvish. Though I suppose I shouldn't discard the possibility that she stands before me even now, in the most rogueish disguise she could come up with! That aside, is this Lyon's Brook? My journey has been a long one, and I feared I'd taken a few wrong turns."
Up close, Kieran's slightly pointed ears are barely visible, concealed behind the short ponytail of his golden-blond hair. His was a good match of Elven and Human heritage, with flawless symmetry tempered out by human softness as to not appear too perfect or alien. Attractive by any standard, he was decently built and longer than most female humans yet shorter than the average man. However, that image was marred slightly by that his pupils seemed milky white, cloudy perhaps, with only a hint of former green still breaking through.
He was also quite armed, carrying a crossbow on his backpack as well as a mace at his side, and a strange... 'black branch' on his back. It's only when he turns and the light seems to reflect of the side branches that it gives away that this was in fact, a branch made of metal - and sharp metal too, by the looks of things.
Marcus is surprised when Varian sends a friendly smile and wave in his direction, but then just figures that there must be somebody behind him that the popinjay had noticed. He considered the man to be a fop, but a rather popular one with the locals. He continues moving toward the stranger, not wanting to stop too near anyone of the townsfolk that might get offended by his presence.
Hearing the immediate exchange between the two men he chuckles. Of course Elrithrathiel was known far beyond the borders of the town! The stranger was coming to speak with the mage. Mystery solved. But did he have news of the man hunt?
Alone? In town? Finally! A chance to get out! And with an allowance no less! And a chance to prove myself by bringing this criminal to justice... Grahm's indignation at being pushed past disappears from his mind, as he realizes that a fish for Virgil would make an excellent gift. He barely remembers to thank Sir Eustus for his kindness before running off. But where had the malodorous fishmonger gotten to?
--
Ah. Over there. And it seems as if he has a limp. Talking to someone. Grahm strides up to the fisherman imperiously, but right before putting a hand on his shoulder, remembers that interrupting someone while in a conversation is unbecoming of a knight, and taking a step back, waits for the man to finish his conversation. The smaller one seemed to be in charge anyway, and although he'd never admit it, the bigger one made Grahm feel slightly... intimidated.
Grahm is a large man, just barely into his human adulthood and already standing at over 6ft. He is stocky as well, and a longsword hangs at his hip. The breastplate that he wears is very well polished, and seemingly undented. He is not entirely unpleasant to look at, but certainly not a great beauty by any stretch of the imagination.
Thraag the Older's eyes narrow as the fancy man approaches and then he speaks in a gruff tone.
Thraag was looking around as if he was hoping to see someone and nearly jumps with his elder speaks to him in Orcish. Spinning around on his good leg Thraag sees the man he bumped into earlier looking at him imperiously and steps back, nearly bumping into Randal.
"Umm....Hello...I think I have seen you around town. I am sorry about the little bump earlier. Hopefully, we can all just let bygones be bygones..." Thraag gives a small smile and nervously flicks his tongue over his tusk as he looks at the finely dressed human and tries to ignore the burning feeling at the back of his skull where his elder was glaring at him.
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Ah, well, While they are quite powerful, I doubt she has the magic ability to turn into me, for if they did they already would have! Who wouldn't? Haha! But no, I did not think that it was my name that brought you here, though one can hope. This is indeed Lyon's Brook and my name is Varian Seldlon, one I promise is well known around here. Swordsman, artist, musician, dancer, singer and of course, the most roguish scoundrel around. Heheh.
He gives an extravagant bow as he introduces himself.
Who might you be? And if you wish I can show you to Elrithrathiel, if you'd say why you are looking for them...
After a few moments he throws a friendly arm around Kieran's shoulders.
Ah, but you can tell me as we walk! Oh, and I'll that roguish comment as a compliment. Oh! look even old Sir Eustus is out an about today. You have heard haven't you? I'm surprised you survived out on your own honestly with the mad cannibal on the loose!
"My name is Varian Seldlon, one I promise is well known around here. Swordsman, artist, musician, dancer, singer and of course, the most roguish scoundrel around. Heheh."
"Though I'm sure what you're most known for is your impeccable modesty, correct?" The stranger remarks, grinning at the flamboyant display.
He exchanges a colloused hand to shake.
-Which kind of hangs there as Varian suddenly starts leading him by the shoulders. "Oh, ah, be careful and watch the spear there? I wouldn't want you to cut yourself, Varian. If you're as popular as you say, why, I'm not sure I'd survive the resulting angry mob! I'd rather not risk it."
Thus, chosing life, he politely disentangles himself but still keeps pace.
He looks around as they pass through the crowd, then raises his hand in an apologetic gesture. "Right, I've forgotten my manners, it seems. I'm Kieran. And yes, of course the Rogue is a compliment! They always liven things up, don't they? As for what I'm searching Elrithrathiel for... I would prefer to discuss matters with her privately, but I imagine the outcome of it will be known shortly either way. I'd simply like to study under her, as she is well-known for her knowledge and skill. Though this seems like a nice town, too, as far as I can see it."
"...Sorry, what was that about a dangerous cannibal on the lose?" he adds afterwards, a frown narrowing over his milky eyes.
Must be an orc. Never really seen one up close before, but Grandfather talks of fighting them. Dad says they aren't all bad though. I don't understand what the big one said, maybe it's in Orcish. If I'm lucky, he'll teach me a few words. And didn't grandfather say something about them being freakishly strong? Maybe he'll be able to help if I form a group to go hunting after the madwoman...
"What?" Grahm stares blankly at the man for a moment before coming to. "Oh right, your friend here bumped into me, but never mind about that. I was hoping to buy a fish." Grahm pauses for a minute, and then leans forward slightly. "And forgive me if this is rude, but you're an orc, right?"
Well, good to meet you Kieran, and I'm as modest as they come. Not a single claim is wrong. He gives a knowing wink before continuing.
And you need not fear, I know my way around a blade, leastwise which ends to not let prick you. Though he does let him unwrap his arm, to Varian's small disappointment. At the question of the cannibal, he pauses briefly.
Ah, you know, just some crazed Shoanti woman that uh, killed and ate some people. But, you're here now, and folk are getting some teams together to scour the area. So, you're safe. I wouldn't worry too much about it. He waves it off as they continue.
Anyway, what was it that made you seek out our great wizardess... sorceress?... mage? Our great commander of the Arcane! Did you hear tales of her exploits in the field of goblin slaying?
Disappointed to hear that the stranger didn't even know of the crazed killer Marcus looks around again, this time noticing that Sir Virgil's ward was speaking with Thraag, and Thraag. Interested he again works his way around/through the crowd. Could the young.... Knight? be recruiting? He had never met the man. Perhaps he didn't know, or know of him.
He halts again about fifteen feet away to listen. Glancing around he politely nods to those that are openly glaring at him. The path to inner strength demanded that he accept the penance for his earlier mistakes....
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The buzz of the crowd settles as Banker Triarius, the sheriff, the Threefold Elders, and the Abadarian inquisitor step out of the church and descend the front steps.
”Flavino! Paxo! Syllus! You are vith the cohortes,” Nickolai the sheriff calls out. ”Cleric and Betto are vith Brother Martus, Burria and Marius are vith Papus, and Lady Elrithrathiel and Andrei are vith me!” Those named are already standing next to their assigned leaders, so Nickolai just nods approvingly.
As Banker Triarius steps forward onto the podium built into the steps of the church, another carriage arrives on the scene. ”This morning, you embark on a holy mission. The Laws of Taldor have been violated. The fugitive for whom you seek has violated those laws: she has defied authorities, she has stolen property, and she has murdered.” From the tone in his voice, it’s clear he views the second as the worst offence of the three. The new carriage comes to a stop and a bent-backed old man climbs down from the driver’s seat to open the door. ”You embark on a mission to protect our town, laws, property, and citizens. Many will say that it is a fools errand, as this woman must be nowhere nearby: that is possible, of course, but we cannot afford to be so lax in ensuring our security not to undertake this holy quest anyhow.” An old woman in very fine, if out of fashion, clothing steps out of the carriage, clearly distraught. Locals recognize her as Mrs. Pumpherus, the widow of one of the two mine owners, a wealthy, eccentric woman who lives in a Brookside manor west of the village centre. ”I charge you today: to search diligently, and thoroughly, for this fugitive, not returning to the comforts of hearth and home until your conscience is certain that she will not trouble our village, its persons or its prosperity.” The old woman pushes forward, unaware or uncaring of the speech currently underway. ”Sheriff! Dear sheriff! I need your help!” she calls out, practically in tears. Banker Triarius glares at the interruption, but smooths out his voice and continues, just a bit louder to be heard over the intrusion. ”If you should find her, and you bring her in peacefully for justice, Abadar will smile upon you and bless you with His fortunes. If she does not come peacefully, you are authorized to enact our nation’s laws and justice, and Abadar will smile upon you and bless you with His fortunes.” Banker Triarius concludes his speech, awaiting applause that doesn’t come as all eyes are focussed on the distraught widow nearly crying into Sheriff Androv’s arms.
”My dear Mrs. Pumpherus, vatever is the…”
”Oh sheriff, it’s Tricia. She is missing! Gone! You must help me find my darling baby! She has never been away from home, but this morning, she was out doing her exercises with Brus, and…”
”Mrs. Pumpherus, I am sorry, but I and Papus are about to leave on the manhunt for the fugitive. Ve have no time to search for your Tricia. I am sure she vill return to you in no time. You know she could not bear to be avay from her mother. Perhaps she is already there at home?”
Mrs. Pumpherus starts to sputter down. A few local women come over to offer comfort to her as the sheriff extracts himself from the widow’s clutches. The other search parties have already begun to head off and Banker Triarius has returned inside the Church.
Deputy Papus glances at Marcus, briefly locking eyes with his fellow Irorite before turning to his team.
”I just don’t know what I would ever do without my darling Tricia,” Mrs. Pumpherus declares to nobody in particular.
Thraag pulls out a fish and trades it for a coin from Grahm as he listens to the speech and then the distraught woman before commenting to Randal and Grahm, "I am surprised that dog could run far at all. I have never seen it move faster then a waddle." He then looks around as if he is not sure if he should say more before whispering, "But it would make for a snack if you were hungry enough and into eating strange things..."
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"Can you wrap it or... something?" Grahm says, obviously not thrilled about carrying a raw fish around all day, and somewhat put out about the lack of an answer to his question. Looking around, he notices Marcus watching nearby, and beckons him over. "Excuse me, but I have to wonder; are you an orc? I had heard they were strong, and often quite skilled in blades or magics." Leaning in to Marcus and Thraag the younger, he says quietly, "Just between you and me, I'm thinking about making my own team to go after the escaped madwoman, and I could use some folks who are good at blades or magic with me."
Waiting a second, he holds out a gauntleted hand to shake. "The name's Grahm. I'm an esquire."
It's only half a lie, not even. No one had been training Grahm to be a knight but himself, but he was quite adept at learning from old stories.
The Elder smiles and smacks Thraag hard on the back before saying,
The Elder then looks over at Marcus and says,
When Thraag glances back at him instead of doing as he bade, the Elder gives him a big toothy smile and a thumbs up sign.
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Thraag was forced to step forward awkwardly as his Elder smacks him in the back. He glances back at the Elder who gave him a big toothy grin and a thumbs up sign. Thraag also thought there may have been a wink, but he was not sure about that.
After a moment he turned to look back at Grahm. Thraag knew his Elder would not force him to do anything. But if he refused to do this search he would hear about this for weeks. Fishing in silence was far better then hearing his Elder complain endlessly about Thraag wasting his potential on a leaky boat for the rest of his life or pulling in nets.
Thraag shifted his burden and reached out to shake Grahms hand, trying to squeeze it to show some strength that was not apparent in his thin arms. He then replied, "I am Thraag, and this is Thraag... I call him Elder. The Elder and I are both half-orcs." Thraag nods his head back towards his Elder and and pulls his hand away to rub his pouch self-consciously before continuing, "He is more skilled at blades then I, but he has been training me for a while. I also have a few...magical tricks... that might come in handy. If your getting a group together to go...umm...we would be interested in joining you."
Thraag glances back at the smiling Elder before turning and adding one more thing, "Oh...and I don't really have things to wrap the fish in as I generally just sell them to the store or households who have ways to take care of the fish... but the Elder says if you take us with you he will rip off a strip of his pants for you to wrap the fish in." Thraag says as the Elder nods behind him.
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Varian pauses as the speech and ensuing commotion starts he smiles.
Well, I fear you might have missed her, but... Come on, I might can get you close enough to speak to them.
Varian quickly saunters over to Nikolai and Mrs. Pumpherus, almost forcing Kieran along before gently pushing him off towards Elrithrathiel.
Ah, well it seems duty calls yet again, don't worry Mrs. Pumpherus, while the good sheriff is off chasing bounties, He pauses to give a wink to Nikolai to show he is making a jest.
I'll make sure to do all I can to find your little Tricia. You know you can trust me. Now why don't you show me where you last saw them? He gives a nod to Nikolai.
Grahm sniffs. "Dad-I mean my father said that some of the people he adventured with could barely lift an axe, but their speed and precision more than made up for their lack of strength." It is obvious that although Grahm enjoys seeming like he knows a lot about different types of combatants, he doesn't really believe that finesse is a substitute for strength, and a stout blade.
"But magic! That is beyond me. You'll be an excellent companion, I'm sure of it!" He pauses for a second after hearing Thraag the elder's offer, seemingly shocked before a grin slowly emerges on his face. "I like the energy that your companion brings! Very practical. Pragmatic even. You must teach me how to speak with him some time, I would like to hear more of his wisdom for myself."
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Varian pauses as the speech and ensuing commotion starts he smiles.
Well, I fear you might have missed her, but... Come on, I might can get you close enough to speak to them.
Kieran hesitantly follows Varian as the speech concluded. "Em... You sure it's okay to just force our way in there? It very much sounds like they're in the middle of important-"
Suddenly, they're at the front, with his... 'acquaintance' talking to the sheriff - and every single person in his limited sight range was watching them.
Which also meant he himself was promptly put in full view of what was probably a good portion of the entire town, just like that.
If only he'd known that beforehand!
Well, this was awkward.
There was no way in the nine hells he'd just stride up to the famed wizardess right now, especially as she was just about to partake in a dangerous manhunt where every second could count! Doubly so as to not publicly suggest his own request was above critical town matters.
Instead, he gave what he hoped was a warm smile and a wave to the collective gazes shifting his way and approached the old woman. "Say, Miss? I'm just a traveller, but I'd like to offer help as well. I have some tracking skill and could help Varian here find your dog if you'd like?"
Surprised at Graham's approach Marcus politely nods as he replies, "Not quite Sir. We are half orc. Many orcs have a strange ability to rage which increases their physical power. And most that I lived with during my wandering were quite skilled with large weapons. Personally, I learned hand-to-hand combat without weapons from a temple of Irori, and my devotion brought me some ability with divine magic." He accepts the handshake from the esquire with a firm grip, expecting the young man to make it a contest of strength.... He was certain that he'd lose!
He grins at the Elder and replies in orcish, "He doesn't seem to agree. And Graham, the human doesn't seem to speak our language. Can you speak his?"
Glancing back at Graham he replies, "The best way to learn a language is to immerse yourself in it. I lived with my father's people for a year and a day."
"Hum." Grahm seems somewhat put out that you are both unable to rage, and that you have little training with large weapons, but brightens again at the thought of more magic. His handshake starts out strong, almost viselike, but very quickly loosens up, as if in the middle of the act he remembered what his own strength was.
"I'm afraid I will be in Lyon's Brook for the foreseeable future, so I won't be able to immerse myself in your land's language as well as you did. But I have plenty of free time, so perhaps I might hire one of you as a tutor in it." Although the emphasis on his speech indicates a statement instead of a request, there is an obvious undertone to it, an ask without actually wanting to ask.
--
"We have the makings of quite a team here, a diviner you say? Like a cleric? My father always said that the cleric was the lifeblood of his adventuring group, keeping people hale and healthy, even if they argued at times about which god is the best. Two magic users, and a esquire! But as you can tell, I do not know many people in this town. Perhaps the two of you know another few able bodies that we could recruit? Not that we'd need it of course, the madwoman is probably shaking in her boots, if she has any, but additional numbers would make the searching faster."
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"Whenever you have time, I am willing to assist with the language. Irori demands it. And yes, my abilities are very much similar to that of a Cleric. But also with some of the training that you would expect from a Monk."
Marcus glances around at the others in town. "I know many of the town's folk. However, perhaps I should warn you that knowing me isn't good for your reputation. I made many errors in judgement when I was young, and I left town with many upset with with me. Since my return I haven't been able to make much headway in mending the bridges that I burned."
"If you'd like introductions to any that might aid your plans to forge a team, perhaps you would speak to the Dandy over there? Varian Seldon I believe is his name. He seems favored by many in the village. He might be better able to assist you. And if you'd prefer to locate a different healer, I will understand. Some might refuse to join you if I am with you."
Thraag looks over at Marcus, "I am sure the Elder would be happy if you joined us. He prefers to only speak Orcish and gets tired of only having me to talk to." Thraag says before continuing, "Besides, if you help the town maybe some will let the past go."
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Grahm looks over at the man that Marcus gestures to. "Him? I'd rather have companions of stout heart, who are honest about their failings than 100 fops. I do not know what you may have done in your past, but you are honest, frank, and strong. If others do not see it that way, then I shall be all the luckier for having such a powerful ally to myself."
He brightens. "And who knows? Perhaps this is what you need to get your name out there as a force for good. But perhaps the Thraag's should be our recruiters. They seem known, unlike me, and respected enough, unlike you. I shall of course be within viewing distance, as will you."
Grahm waves to Randal. "What about you, are you interested in glory, and rendering service to the public?"
Randal laughs. ”I’m no hero. I’ll content myself with making wool to keep all the heroes alive when the cold winter comes. Two weeks ago, I fought off a nasty wolf that was going to scatter my flock: that’s enough heroism for me.”
After getting nothing but a hard stare from Nikolai, Varian scans the vicinity before his eyes alight on Grahm.
Ah, now if I were to take the new squire, I'm sure Nikolai would be fine with it. I'm sure I'll be able to convince him to help an old lady out. Then, its one simple push to go a bit further.
As he thinks about it, his grin turns that mischievous tint before he suddenly remembers Nikolai knows that grin all to well. He coughs a few times, acting as if he is clearing his throat before returning to his more neutral smile.
I'll even bring Sir Eustus's new squire along, that way you'll know I'm not getting up to trouble. Besides, you got bigger things to worry about right now anyway right?
At Kieran's unforseen offer, Varian glances back before speaking.
Thats a good idea! He says turning back to Kieran,
Well, you are new to town, so doing some kind deeds would be a great introduction... afterwards I could even.. show him around! The whole place of course.
He waves and shouts over towards Grahm.
Good sir! You would love to help a wonderful woman find her dearest pet companion would you not?! When he actually notices the company Grahm is keeping, his smile dips a little bit.
"He's rather imposing, and a man of few words... I would NOT want to be Varian now, and he's not even doing anything!" Kieran thinks as Nikolai remains silent and waves upon waves of pure, unadulterated glare just lay into the bard!
Thankfully not on the receiving end of his own stare, he stays there a few more moments to see if the grieving woman regained enough of her senses to give any more information on her dog.
"Wait... how do I know it's even a dog? No one ever specified. Aren't these old ladies usually into cats instead? Hm..."
After receiving the answer or seeing the woman is indeed too lost in her emotions to share anything else, he follows Varian to what eventually looked like a knightly figure and not one, not two (?) but *three* half-orcs.
"Huh. Colour me surprised! I didn't know there was such a strong orc population in this town," he says, indeed more surprised than anything. "Are these friends of yours, Varian?"
"Are these friends of yours, Varian?"
Nope! He replies, still waving.
"There, Mrs. Pumpherus. You see? Warian vill help you find your dog. It vill be good for him to keep him from trying to hunt down Shoanti barbarians," the sheriff adds, leveling a stern look at Varian.
Mrs. Pumpherus smiles broadly at Varian, wiping away tears.
"Oh, Varian. You are a dear boy. Of course I can show you. See, Brus had Tricia out in the back garden for her morning exercises...oh! Why, yes young man, thank you very much indeed. Tricia will love to have so many heroes offer to help find her. Now, as I was saying, Brus was taking her for her morning exercises in the back garden..."
Mrs. Pumpherus trails off as she realizes that Varian has moved on to recruit more help for the dog-hunt, but she continues to give Kieran a rather detailed litany of Tricia's precise exercise regimen, which seems to involve chasing some wooden rings across the grass, then eating pastries. At Kieran's outburst, Mrs. Pumpherus looks across at Marcus and the Thraags and says, [b]"Oh yes, there are five half-orcs in Lyon's Brook. Two of them are fishermen, I believe, and Marcus, poor dear, just returned to town. Nobody seems to care for him I believe, though search me if I know whyever not. Then there's also Tomos, the town carpenter, and Mr. Laeva who works in my late husband's mine."
Marcus nods at Thraag the Younger's words. "I'll stay by your Elder then. Maybe the people will just ignore me?"
"All I want is to help. I cannot undo the mistakes of my youth, by following this path is my path to inner strength."
When he hears Randal's mention of not being a hero, but fighting off a wolf he relays the story to Thraag the Elder. Then he speaks up to Randal. "I'm certain that the sheep saw you as their hero when you fought off the wolf. Others might have considered allowing the beast to take one sheep and hoping that it wasn't still hungry after. Sometimes being a hero is just being in the right place when you are needed and not running."
Seeing Varian approach, and the attention of the others, Marcus adjusts his position to be somewhat shielded by Thraag the Elder. He keeps to the orcish language speaking to him, "Pardon me for stepping to the other side of you. I think Varian wants to speak with Esquire Graham. Sounds like they need someone to track and animal? He described it as a pet companion?"
"The group I have just gathered seems to be somewhat overqualified for a simple retrieval of a dog, when there are far more pressing matters at hand. You seem to have it hand, no?" Grahm's tone is far more dismissive than it had been when speaking to the orcs, this man is obviously no warrior. A fencer, yes, perhaps even an excellent one, but not a warrior.
You're new here. People seem to like him. Just because he rubs you the wrong way doesn't mean you have to be so dismissive. And perhaps he knows the land.
Grahm sighs slightly. "But I suppose you can join us in our search if you want." Almost but not quite as an afterthought he adds, "As long as my compatriots are fine with it of course."
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After waving to the other group Varian gives a smile and a salute to Nikolai. I wouldn't dream of it sir. Not while poor pets pray for preservation! Before wandering over to the Grahm and his knights.
Varian gives a nod to both Thraags.
Thraag, thraag, hows it going? Not giving the fish too hard a time I hope? Then gives a glance towards Marcus. Unsure of what exactly to say for once in his life before giving a shrug.
At Grahms words Varian smiles, but hesitates every so slightly.
Hm, This might be harder than I thought.
Yes, good squire, I fear we've not met, as I was away when you came to town. But, I have heard about you, and when I saw you with good Sir Eustus I knew instantly since you had the bearing of a real knight. But come now, you should know that every crisis should be handled carefully. He makes sure that Kieran has Mrs. Pumpherus sufficiently distracted before continuing. Though he does wince for Kierans predicament. Sorry buddy, but I've heard that dogs regiment three times in my life already, and honestly if I heard it one more time I'd probably have it memorized by heart.
I mean, What if the poor thing is being hounded by some vicious animal? I'll even let you take the credit for leading us if you want. He gives another glance to Marcus before looking back to Grahm.
Thraag clears his throat a little and says, "We could probably do what both of you want at the same time. Finding the dog might be a good thing, and that gives us a reason to be out and about looking around in case anyone asks. If they wanted everyone to search for this cannibal they would have formed more then two teams. But I am certainly going to be watching out for cannibals hiding in bushes while we search for the missing dog."
The Elder looks at Marcus and says,
When Varian shows up the Elder gives him a toothy grin. For a human, Varian was humorous enough to have around.
After Thraag speaks the Elder says,
Getting exactly what he expected from Varian Marcus focuses on Thraag the Elder.
"Your Youngling is correct. If that fat dog was attacked by anything other than a bowl of food it's likely little more than a pile of bones now. But we could start a search for it, and watch for this criminal. If she's as dangerous as the rumors say she might be a challenge for one person, trained warrior or not. But all of us? Even the popinjay has a sharp stick to poke at it...."
Mrs. Pumpherus trails off as she realizes that Varian has moved on to recruit more help for the dog-hunt, but she continues to give Kieran a rather detailed litany of Tricia's precise exercise regimen, which seems to involve chasing some wooden rings across the grass, then eating pastries.
Kieran, at first, tries to maintain his focus to the best of his ability, but the longer the excruciating detail on the training regimen continued, the more his eyes glazed over.
Well, they would have, if they weren't already.
And now Varian had abandoned him to this fate by himself and after he was the one to offer aid first, no less! The sly bastard! Living up to his name as a rogue, that one.
Realising this wasn't getting anywhere, he tries to get a word in with a raised hand when he feels the aged woman starts repeating herself a third time. "Thanks for indulging in my curiosity on the half-orcs, and for sharing what you know on your dog in such detail. But on that latter subject, maybe we should, ah, start with the basics first? As in, what does your dog look like , and where can we find this 'Brus', who might have seen her last? And if we find her, is there anything we can do to make her come with us easier? A favorite treat or place to scratch or such?"
After getting as much relevant information out of the woman as possible, Kieran politely excuses himself and follows Varian to what seemed like a very interesting group of people. "Not your friends, but still good to have with you if you're planning to hunt barbarians?" he whispers to the bard upon arriving, not bothering to hide his suspicions.
Instead, he looks at the squire and the half-orcs and waits for a lull in the ongoing conversation. "Greetings and well-met, everyone. I'm Kieran, a travelling spearman and... cleric of sorts. I couldn't help but notice you seem be marshalling able bodies here, sir... Knight? If so, might I ask what exactly you're planning to do, and if you need more people to do it?"
"I don't know if it will help me. But perhaps I could offer Elrithrathiel my portion of the reward money as a tituation fee?"
The Elder shrugs and seems a bit uneasy for a moment before responding to Marcus,
Thraag looked at the half-elf who just approached and intervenes to say, "I say the more the merrier...You never know when another could come in handy. Especially, one blessed by the Gods. We are planning on doing a search for the dog...and just checking on the safety of the surrounding area."
Kieran had not asked Thraag, but if Thraag did not occasionally intervene in conversations he figured he might not talk to anyone...ever. Thraag is not sure the half-elf would qualify as a great spear warrior, but any that could call upon divine healing would be a boon. And it might be one more body between him and actual danger.
Varian gives a glance and a smirk to Kieran.
I've no idea what you are talking about, we are looking for a pet. If anything else happens,or we stumble across something in our search, well, that isn't our fault.
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Grahm, who seemed conflicted between Varian's obvious flattery, and his own stubbornness, turns gratefully to Kieran.
"Ah a spearman! Using an elf weapon to boot. I've never had a chance to hold one before, but they are supposedly notoriously difficult to master. And I am not yet a knight, merely an esquire. Grahm is my name." The internal conflict within him resolves, and he continues to respond to Kieran, but with a wink to Varian as he speaks. "We are "looking for a pet." If the two of you wish to come with us, I would be honored. If you want to give credit to someone for leading, let us give it to my new compatriot Marcus, it seems he needs it far more than me."
"Shall we away?"
”Brus? Why he’s right here! Brus is my driver and gardener. Oh, it looks like your friends are all coming to help find my poor Tricia.”
When you gather back at Mrs. Pumpherus’ carriage, it’s clear you aren’t all fitting inside, though three of you can, and one can sit up with Brus, while the fifth will have to hang off the carriage rack on back.
"Yeah...I don't think I can hold onto the back, so I will ride up front with Brus." Thraag says and then looks at the Elder and says,
The Elder looks at the carriage uncertainly and then shrugs at Thraag and says,
The Elder then climbs onto the back and makes room for another to join him.