Sandpoint’s morning routine is entertaining, at least from the perspective of anyone not from the port-side city. First in-line, sea faring vessels, rush to unload their cargo before venders even have a chance to document or claim their wares. During the process, the docks quickly become overwhelmed with both crates and barrels, as crewmen begin claiming additional room along the dock's side for additional cargo.
Along the dock, storefronts, which include all sorts of specialties, open for business. Many of the establishments already have several patrons standing around waiting for first pick of at whatever the merchants are offering. Further down the road, carts can be seen setting up shop as they pull out racks and canvas canopies to establish a street-side venue.
As you make your way through Sandpoint’s early morning streets, Rebeca seems to perk up from her otherwise depressed state. She seems very happy to be back, which leads to an increased walking pace straight towards her mother's office. Although open for the day’s challenges, the office looks somewhat slow. A single bearded man, in lavish looking cloths, steps out of the office just as you approach. He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to the group as he saunters off down the road. As soon and Rebeca sees the office, she takes off running towards its front door. Soon after she enters the building, you find yourself doing the same.
The room is illuminated by external light that finds its way through the building’s open windows and doors, which highlights Kendra’s over worked desk. Piles of ledgers and stacks of documents clutter the top portion of the desk, while file cabinets, lined with rows of thick files, set open along its side. Kendra, who seems heavily distracted by one of the open ledgers on her desk, looks up and sees her daughter.
“Rebeca!” She exclaims while launching out of her chair. After running over to the young apprentice wizard, she wraps her arms around the young girl and gives her as tight of a hug as she can muster. Then, out of the blue, her hug pauses long enough for her to pull back. “Where is your brother?” She asks in an alarmed tone. “They killed him, mom,” is all Rebeca could blurt out in-between her sobs. Unsatisfied with the lack of detail about her son, Kendra looks over at you while tightly clenching her daughter. “What happened?” She asks in a serious tone.
Bryndís looks to Wayilant to tell the story, given his more genial demeanor and her own more limited command of Taldane. She can always add correctives or neglected details if needed.
Wayilant made an inward sigh and stepped forward.
"Mayor Deverin. It's taken us a while to put the pieces together. But as we have come to understand it; Johnathan and Rebeca were captured by a hobgoblin and his goblin cronies. Now the lead hobgoblin wielded a powerful magical sword that filled the the user with a near-constant battle rage. Despite begin captured, Johnathan kept being confrontational and aggressive to his captors. This slowly eroded the enraged hobgoblin's resolve and used the rage sword to end his life."
After glancing down at her daughter, who is obviously destressed, the mayor decides to curb the subject momentarily. “Please, give me a moment to situate Rebeca. I’ll be back.” She says just before escorting her daughter into the next room. After about five minutes, she returns.
“Please forgive my distraction. The circumstances are a bit extreme, and I find myself slightly overwhelmed with both joy and grief. Please have a seat.” She offers while pulling out a couple lavishly carved chairs from a nearby table. Once situated, she moves back over to her desk and withdraws a hand sized pouch from one of her drawers. The pouch is crafted from soft, dark colored leather, which appears to be bulging with coin. After sitting the dark pouch on the desk, she pulls out a second pouch that is somewhat smaller than the first but much more ornate. The second pouch is made of some sort of soft looking purple cloth, which also looks to be full of coin. The sound of coins rustling can be heard as she sets the soft looking pouch firmly on the desk.
“I have spoken with the historians and their archeologists about your agreement to secure the dig site. They have agreed to allow me to distribute your payment if you were successful in the process. This larger pouch contains my agreed payment, as I’m satisfied that you have completed what I tasked you to do.” After a short pause, she slides the larger pouch over to your side of the table. “That brings me to the other task. Where you successful in securing them safe passage?”
Without waiting for a direct answer, she follows up with a second and a third question. “In addition, I would like to know if you found my son’s signet ring or have any information about his body? At the minimum, I would like to know more about where you encountered this hobgoblin.”
While listening carefully, she pulls out a small ledger, a vial of ink, and a quill. “Please be as specific as you can.” She says while preparing to put into ink your exact words.
Bryndís does her best with her limited knowledge of what happened before they arrived, as well as her limited knowledge of the non-mundane elements of the events.
"It is hard for us to know what happened before we were there. We were told by your daughter that your son was killed by the chief, just as she told you. The chief took the ring. We took it back after he was killed by us."
Bryndís takes the ring from her pouch, lays it on the desk, and slides it across the wooden surface to the mayor.
"We can also bring the sword from our baggage. The chief's room has a hole in the floor that went down to the tree. The chief dropped bodies, alive or dead down it to the tree in the cave below. I do not know if the chief just liked the tree, or if his mind was captured by it with magic, but he was a guardian of it."
Here, Bryndís runs into a language problem.
The tree was not normal. It was like the dead who walk and feed on blood. I think the bodies throw down in the hole were meant to feed the tree. We saw a body mostly into the tree, and no other bodies. I think the tree took all the others."
Kendra does her best to follow along with the Bloodrager’s version of the story. She writes down anything that references locations or details pertaining to encounters. After returning her sons signet ring and his sword, she takes a long quiet look at both. She then places the ring on her desk and retrieves the sword. “This sword belonged to my father. It reflected his days as an adventurer and served as a symbol of motivation for my son. I honestly don’t think a day passed that he didn’t visit it in the family display case. When he graduated, I gifted him this sword as a reminder of his father’s deeds and accomplishment.” After a moment, she takes a deep breath and glances over at Wayilant and then down towards his sword. “I see you are also a fan of the rapier. Well, I suppose it wouldn’t do any good to let this fine blade collect dust, and seeing I no longer have any need of it, I would be honored if you would accept it as a personal token of my appreciation. With it, you will be honored by any Deverin as a close associate to our family.” After sitting the blade back on her desk, she slides it over to Wayilant.
“Well I completely appreciate your help in this matter. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well.” After taking a long look over at the door to the neighboring room, she continues. "At least Rebeca made it home safely. I can take some comfort in that. I will send out a cotangent to see if we can retrieve my son’s body so I can perform a proper burial. For now, our business is concluded. Please stay in Sandpoint for as long as you need. The rooms will be on the house. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to spend a little time with my daughter.” After excusing herself, she moves off into the other room.
Wayilant audibly gasped as Kendra slide the magical rapier toward him. "Cayden!"
The cleric bowed deeply before the Sandpoint mayor, as he held the rapier to his chest. "I shall do my best to keep the spirit of your father and son alive within the actions of this magnificent weapon."
Before Kendra leaves, Wayilant calls out, "If you need an clerical assistance with your daughter, please fetch me while I'm here in town."
Kendra nods with understanding upon Wayilant's offer. " I think she is going to be ok. Probably a bit shaken over her brother's death, but she is strong. Thank you for the offer. I will let you know if anything comes up."
Bryndís rises from her chair, gives the mayor a nod, and leaves with Wayilant. Once they are outside, Bryndís tells Wayilant "As soon as we have all the baggage moved inside I want to sleep."
The excitement of the new weapon fades, and Wayilant yawns. "Yes. Sleep. But let's secure our goods. Let's go."
After concluding your business with the Mayer Deverin, you make your way out of the town hall and down Sandpoint's busy Main Street. Laden with weapons held together by layers of rope, which now occupy both of your hands, makes navigating through the busy street a little awkward. That in conjunction with your backpack, which is currently layered inside and out with multiple sets of armor, make it abundantly clear that you now require an out of the way location to hold up for the day. Thinking back to your first visit to Sandpoint, you recall a tavern- inn called the “White Deer,” which was mentioned on a couple occasions. The inn was said to be located somewhere north of the town hall, and from the description you got, it sounded a bit out of the way.
Heading out of the hall, you turn right which puts you heading north on Main Street. Almost immediately, you pass Tower Street and several residential buildings before hitting Junker’s Way. After turning right and heading East on Junker’s Way the street eventually becomes Church Street as it banks to your left sending you Northeast. Along the way, you pass Rings and Things, which is a squat stone building with bright colored stained glass for windows. Through one of the building’s windows, you can see a wild haired human dragging a display case from one side of the building to the other. Furth down the road the White Deer comes into view.
A pair of wooden, life-sized deer, carved with painstaking care from white birch, stand astride the entrance to this sizable tavern and inn, which commands an impressive view of the Varisian Gulf to the north. The inn’s double wide, hard-wood doors currently stand open. Inside a few smaller tables stand apart from one another, allowing a fair amount of separation for patrons to navigate between them. One of the four tables that you can see, looks to occupied by an older man in commoners clothing, who appears to be enjoying a quiet breakfast. The smell of fresh cooked ham and eggs lightly accents the coast’s fresh sea air as you approach.
Both aasimar and half-elf struggle to bring their massive swag into the White Deer.
Wayilant haggardly asks loudly, "Pardon me! But do you have any room available at this hour?!!"
As you enter the White Deer you notice a dark skinned man with a strong Shoanti appearance standing behind a knotty pine bare that has been obviously preserved in a way that emphasizes its natural wood grain. The man, who stands a little over six foot tall, smiles as you enter the establishment. His eyes immediately look down at all the heavy gear you drag through the door. “Wow, I presume you are adventurers.” He says while placing a cup of warm coffee on the bar’s counter. “Yes, yes, by all means, we have quite a few open rooms. And by the look of it, I’m assuming you would like a private room with a lock?” He asks while looking everyone over. After getting a better view of the room, you can see that the establishment is doing a little business but is slower than you would expect for an established tavern. “If you’re hungry, I have just finished grilling up some fresh pepper-crusted Venison. We also have a couple different seasoned Pig Pie’s to select from. Rooms are generally five silver a night. How many would you like and for how long?”
"Yes. We are adventurers", Wayilant started. "Two rooms with locks. Of the top of my head, I'd say we'd need it for three days and nights. We have a writ from Mayor Deverin for a free lodgings", the cleric struggles to find the writ while still holding the swag.
"Anything hand-sized to eat right now would be wonderful."
The barkeep watches patiently as Wayilant searches for the writ. “Well, two lockable rooms it will be. In fact, the last two room on the left have newer locks on them and should be ready. The rooms are upstairs and down the hall. You will be looking for room eleven and twelve. Here are the keys." He offers while pulling out a set of two keys, each with a wooden chit tied to it indicating which room they belong to. "As for a handheld meal, I could put together a sandwich with this venison. It should be tasty. Seeing you will be staying for a bit, my name is Garridan. Garriidan Viskalai, owner and barkeep at your service. If you would like, I could help you lug some of that stuff up to your rooms before I prepare your sandwiches.” He offers while removing a full-length grilling apron. “We have been a bit slow lately, so I would expect the days to come to be somewhat quiet. Things have died down a lot since our entertainment was poached by Cracktooth’s Tavern. Now we have quietness, a bit of privacy, and a good meal when desired. Some of my patrons appreciate it, but most migrated to more entertaining establishments.”
"Hello, Garridan. I am Wayilant", the aasimar grunted as he hitched up his part of the load once more. "A cleric of Cayden Cailean. And my beautiful associate is Bryndís Raelyosradinsdóttir."
"We'll take those venison sandwiches and the offers of assistance to our rooms, please?"
Looking around and from what the owner says about the place, Bryndís approves of it as a place to stay, even if she will probably be going out in the evenings. Better security she thinks, which matters until they've offloaded their loot.
She cracks a smile when Wayilant introduces her to Garridan, offering a correction. "Bryndís Magpie is better, or just Bryndís." Nobody down in these parts can say her name right anyway.
She also side-eyes Wayilant due to the 'beautiful' descriptor he adds when introducing her. Of course she is beautiful, but she still isn't used to how florid language is thrown around so casually southron lands.
Bryndís carries her own load up, letting Garridan help Wayilant. Then she goes back downstairs for that sandwich. Eating it will make a nap all the better.
Garridan steps over and retrieves a fair amount of the extra gear and then leads the way up a small set of stairs that ends in a hallway that run the length of the building. Towards the end of the hallway, the two designated rooms sit side by side. “These rooms have recently been renovated, so they should be in very good shape. Fresh linens and water have already been provided. Please let me know if you need anything else.” He offers while opening both doors and then handing over the keys. “I’ll be downstairs preparing your sandwiches while you get situated.” After dropping off what gear he was able to carry, he heads back downstairs.
Notably, Dario follows the barkeep back downstairs instead of getting situated. Muziel, on the other hand, quickly plops down on one of the beds and starts going over some of the notes he made along the way. Ionatan, who has been fairly quiet since he found out about the death of his cousin, excuses himself so he can head back to his aunt’s.
Wayilant drowsily situates the swag between both rooms, and removes his armor before going down stairs to grab his vension sandwich.
Bryndís gets down to the business of eating her sandwich. After it's gone she asks for another.
After his sandwich, Wayilant climbs the stairs back up to his room, and in the quiet, falls asleep.
Once you make your way down to the common room, you note that a couple of the previous patrons have already finished and left the building. Garridan, who has a large slab of highly seasoned meat in front of him, is currently standing behind the bar and taking his time preparing the sandwiches. Dario seems to be discussing something with the man while he works. The sandwiches come with a large craft of ale and by any measure of taste, they are damn right good. The meat is slightly peppery along its crust but is very moist and tender once you sink your teeth into it. The ale seems somewhat standard yet goes well with the sandwich. After receiving your sandwiches, Garridan pauses for a moment as he considers something. After the brief pause, he walks over to Dario and shakes his hand. “Deal. I will get the word out tonight and hopefully, by tomorrow, you'll be ready.” He says just before sliding a sandwich over to the bard. Dario seems quite pleased with whatever deal he just made as he is smiling from ear to ear.
Muziel follows the group down the stairs and then sits at one of the nearby tables, where he unloads a number of books and parchments. Garridan sees the dwarf and then carries over a second craft of ale and a plate with a sandwich on it for him. Muziel, who seems completely distracted by his own notes, hardly pays any attention to the sandwich at first. After taking his first bite, his attention shifts away from his books and directly on the sandwich. Like Bryndis, he also asks for a second one.
Garridan smiles when Bryndis exhibits her hardy appetite and orders another sandwich. He seems genuinely pleased that she enjoyed the first one enough to order a second. That said, he was already preparing the dwarfs second sandwich even before he asked for it. “Looks like you guys had an interesting day. If you’re up to it, later of course, I would love to hear about your adventure.” He says in way that seems lightly inquisitive.
Dario is the first to finish his sandwich and then head upstairs, followed by Wayilant. When Wayilant gets to the room, he sees Dario collecting his gear and then heading over to a third room directly across from room 12. That room has no number associated with it and clearly Dario now has the key to it.
The room’s door swings open as Dario steps through it with his gear. The room appears to be the same as the others, with the exception that it doesn’t have a number assigned to it. “Well Wayilant, I think I’m done for the night. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He says to the cleric just before closing the door and securing it.
Down in the common room, Bryndis finishes her second sandwich, which is as good as the first. She observes as Garridan greats a couple new patrons, a man and his wife, who he seats next to a window. She also notices that Muziel seems to be obsessing over something in his notes. On more than one occasion the Dwarf starts mumbling something to himself. Bryndis can make out the word's longshanks and darkshanks mentioned at least twice.
Ionatan, who excused himself and headed back to his aunts, still hasn’t returned.
After finding his room, Wayilant begins to prepare for a good long rest when he notices that before heading downstairs, the dwarf made a healthy deposit into the room's chamber pot. Luckily, he was polite enough to open a window. That said, it doesn’t seem to help much.
After his sandwich, Wayilant climbs the stairs back up to his room, and in the quiet, falls asleep.
Trying to sleep, Wayilant smells the potent leavings of his dwarf roommate. This awaken the cleric's mind to remind him..
"Crap! I still need to pray for my spells!"
Attempting the go to bed so early in the morning threw off the aasimar's normal rhythm. Wayilant grumbles as walks back down to the common room and order an ale for upstairs.
The aasimar coughs slightly as he reenters his shared room. The cleric dunks his holy symbol into the ale to start his prayers. Wailant thanks Cayden for helping them to get back alive, yet laments he was not able to save the deceased Deverin. The cleric thanks The Drunken God for his good fortune at getting such a magnificent rapier, yet still saddened it was meant for the person who died. Lastly, Wayilant prays for his clerical spells, choosing one's he may need for the day ahead. In closing, Wayilant praises Cayden Cailean for all his good fortune he has and the fortune to come. The aasimar drinks the remaining ale to complete his prayers for the morning.
Aflush with new spells, the caydenite slowly falls into Desna's embrace.
PC Tracker
Wayilant: HP 19/20| Channels -3/6 | Spells Used:
Bryndis: HP 16/22 | Rage -0/6
After enjoying a hearty sandwich, the group indulges in a comfortable night’s rest, which includes a clean, warm-water bath, clothing being laundered by the inn’s staff, and an invitation to join the morning meal.
The following morning Wayilant is awaken by his roommate, Muziel, rummaging around and collecting his things. “Oh I see you are awake. Good, I was hoping you would come around before I needed to head out. I have decided to head back and rejoin the engineers and historians who are going to record the citadel's history. It’s simply an opportunity I can’t pass up. I hope you and the rest of the group can understand. It’s been a great adventure and hopefully I can rejoin you latter down the road. Well, I wish everyone the best.” He says while tossing his backpack over his shoulder and then heading out the door.
Down in the dining room, the sound of music resonates throughout the building. After ascending down the stairs, you see a couple lute players and a woman with a violin working in harmony, creating a very upbeat and enjoyable song. More notably, you see Dario performing a very unique dance that seems to have a large number of early morning patrons distracted. Behind the bar, Garridan looks preoccupied, preparing a number of morning meals while nodding his head back and forth to the music. By the smile on the man’s face, you can tell he is quite pleased with the new entertainment and the heavy morning turnout that it brought.
After noticing your presence, Garridan waves a beckoning hand at you and then points at an empty table. “Please, please, make yourselves comfortable. What would you like for breakfast? We have eggs, ham, ground potatoes, peppered venison, sweet cakes, coffee, orange juice, apple juice, and hot buttered rum.” He just finishes listing out what’s available, when Dario swings by the table, does a slight spin and then finishes his performance by sliding into one of the chairs. The dance closure is accompanied by a crescendo from the instrumentalists. Almost immediately after the performance ends, the room erupts with cheers.
Soon the room settles down, allowing everyone to once again, be able to speak clearly. Dario, smiling from one ear to the other, begins the conversation. “I think I have found my calling. This place is magnificent. I have reached an agreement with Garridan to perform here full time. Needless to say, that will put my adventuring on hold for a while, but man is this awesome. Surly, I had no idea people would appreciate my art this much.” He says in a somewhat winded tone.
The following morning Wayilant is awaken by his roommate, Muziel, rummaging around and collecting his things. “Oh I see you are awake. Good, I was hoping you would come around before I needed to head out. I have decided to head back and rejoin the engineers and historians who are going to record the citadel's history. It’s simply an opportunity I can’t pass up. I hope you and the rest of the group can understand. It’s been a great adventure and hopefully I can rejoin you latter down the road. Well, I wish everyone the best.” He says while tossing his backpack over his shoulder and then heading out the door.
Wayilant arose in a stupor reserved for those who slept far long than they intended. The cleric just mindlessly witnessed Muziel goodbye. Looking out the window, Wayilant was finally made to speak. "Wha..? It's nightime..? How long did I sleep?"
Down in the dining room, the sound of music resonates throughout the building. After ascending down the stairs, you see a couple lute players and a woman with a violin working in harmony, creating a very upbeat and enjoyable song. More notably, you see Dario performing a very unique dance that seems to have a large number of early morning patrons distracted. Behind the bar, Garridan looks preoccupied, preparing a number of morning meals while nodding his head back and forth to the music. By the smile on the man’s face, you can tell he is quite pleased with the new entertainment and the heavy morning turnout that it brought.
After noticing your presence, Garridan waves a beckoning hand at you and then points at an empty table. “Please, please, make yourselves comfortable. What would you like for breakfast? We have eggs, ham, ground potatoes, peppered venison, sweet cakes, coffee, orange juice, apple juice, and hot buttered rum.” He just finishes listing out what’s available, when Dario swings by the table, does a slight spin and then finishes his performance by sliding into one of the chairs. The dance closure is accompanied by a crescendo from the instrumentalists. Almost immediately after the performance ends, the room erupts with cheers.
Soon the room settles down, allowing everyone to once again, be able to speak clearly. Dario, smiling from one ear to the other, begins the conversation. “I think I have found my calling. This place is magnificent. I have reached an agreement with Garridan to perform here full time. Needless to say, that will put my adventuring on hold for a while, but man is this awesome. Surly, I had no idea people would appreciate my art this much.” He says in a somewhat winded tone.
Wayilant gathers his senses as the bard ends his performance at the table. The aasimar applauds alongside the room. "Well, Dario. It is sad to see you leave, but far be it from a caydenite priest to say that entertaining a barroom is not a high endeavor." Wayilant holds out his hand in friendship. "May the Blessing of the Drunken God be upon you always, Dario Zaizarko! May Elysium keep you!"
Blinking, Wayilant turns his attention back to the tavern manager. "Garridan. That all sounds good", the cleric sighed. "A big plate of that and three mugs of ale. I'm certain Miss Raelyosradinsdóttir will be joining us soon." By his wording, the cleric intends two of those ale to be for him.
Which means by your narrative Wayilant sleep over 12 hours!!![/ooc]
Bryndís is too tired to get into stories with Garridan while having her sandwiches. The lure of a bath and catching up on sleep in a good bed is too much of a draw for her to delay them.
But, the next morning she is ready. After breakfast and saying her goodbyes to Muziel and Ionatan. She tells him about what happened in the old underground fort with the tree.
There are certain things she is circumspect about. She does not reveal who hired them, saying only they were hired to find a missing person. She does not want to bring up anyone else's private business.
She also doesn't mention the map. That sort of talk would just invite theft attempts. She does not at all expect that Garridan will not repeat everything she has told him to other customers, in fact that is the plan.
With the party splitting up, she and Wayilant will have to find new partners if they will be looking into the map. Attracting quality candidates requires they put their own quality on display. The best way to do this is to get the story of what they have done out.
The White Deer can't be left out, but its business is too slow. Garridan will be there all day to spread their story to those who are there. She and Wayilant will go mine richer veins, like the Rusty Dragon and Hagfish later in the evening, after they have sold stuff.
When she gets the chance away from Garridan, Bryndís scowls at Wayilant and tells him again "do not use that name. I am only Bryndís. If you must say more, I am Bryndís Magpie."
When she gets the chance away from Garridan, Bryndís scowls at Wayilant and tells him again "do not use that name. I am only Bryndís. If you must say more, I am Bryndís Magpie."
The cleric holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright! Alright. I won't use your last name anymore. I did like the strange moments my tongue had to use to say it, though."
Wayilant yawned again. "Alright. Grab our loot, then start the journey to sell it off."
PC Tracker
Wayilant: HP 20/20| Channels -0/6 | Spells Used:
Bryndis: HP 22/22 | Rage -0/6
Abadius 31st, the last day of the month with the beginning of Calistril just over the horizon, seems to inspire most of Sandpoint’s commoners. The costal city’s clear skies give way to dark looming clouds that envelop the sea’s distant horizon. It doesn’t take a specialist to determine that a storm is brewing and will likely overtake the city in the near future. By the number of lightning strikes, that seem to dance across the sea like a tango of intertwining electricity, it looks as if the storm is more than just a simple seasonal variant. Although pressing, it still hasn’t reached landfall and is nothing more than an intriguing spectacle, for the moment.
The night went by uninterrupted, allowing for an extended amount of sleep. Much longer than anyone had originally anticipated, but well received none the less.
Following a hardy meal, you gather up the loot and head out. Layers of armor drape over your backpacks while tied together bundles, containing a verity of weapons, dangles from each of your hands. If one didn’t know any better, they might think you were heading off to war.
Among several of Sanpoint’s establishments, a few specific locations stand out as potentially interesting. “The Way North” resides somewhere along Cliff Street and is a noteworthy location for cartography. “Rings and Things”, which you passed on your way to the White Deer, is a well-known jewelry store and money lender. Quink, who lives somewhere along Tower Street, is a well-known historian and sage. In fact, you recall Muziel mentioning him on one occasion or another. Savah’s Armory is also located off Tower Street and might be a good place to unload armor and weapons. There’s a smithy off Festival Street called the “Red Dog Smithy” that seems like it might be an alternative location for armor and weapons. A high traffic general store is located off Main Street, which would be a good spot for acquiring basic supplies. Most of these locations become known as you interact with Garridan. Aside from these locations, there are also a wide variety of other establishments riddled throughout the city.
"Let's..go to Red Dog Smithy", Wayilant huffed, being encumbered. "Unload this heavy armor first, I think.."
As Wayilant and Bryndis approach the Red Dog Smithy, two familiar looking young women and a distinctive, long-haired, cream and grey feline come from the east on Undercliff Way. The pair lean on each other for support and even the cat seems exhausted, barely able to keep its tail in the air. As the haggard group gets closer, it's clear to see they are Talienda and Alina, with Echo walking on the other side of the young noblewoman from her attendant. From the dirt and grime on their clothing and singed fur on Echo's back, it's also clear that they have had a rough time of it these past three days.
"Good day, ladies", Wayilant smiled, despite the load he carried. "How goes it?"
Both Alina and Talienda start, hands reaching for weapons and starting to cast spells before they recognize the Caydenite priest. They slump against each other with relief as they see a friendly and familiar face.
"Honestly," Talienda says with a weak smile, "running into you two has been, by far, the best thing to have happened to us in the past couple of days."
Alina looks around, a puzzled look on her face, before asking, "Where are the other two? Masters Ionatan and Dario?"
Echo, seeing two friends, greets Wayilant and Bryndis with a headbutt to the shins and rubbing against their legs for a moment before returning to Talienda's side and keeping a wary watch.
Seeing the load that the pair of adventurers are carrying, Talienda clears her throat and adds, "I see that you and Miss Bryndis are busy, Master Wayilant. Would you mind terribly if we tagged along instead of keeping you out here in the middle of the street?"
PC Tracker
Wayilant: HP 20/20| Channels -0/6 | Spells Used:
Bryndis: HP 20/22 | Rage -0/6
After leaving the White Deer, you make an immediate left, which takes you to Church Street. From there, you can see the looming Sandpoint Cathedral off to your left. The building is easily the largest structure in Sandpoint, which takes up most of the eastern part of the city. Traveling down the road, you note several statues outside the building representing Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae, and Shelyn. Large stained-glass windows decorate the upper reaches of the building, while large, thick, oak doors stand wide-open, allowing the public free access.
Following the street as it banks off to your left, you eventually come across High Street, which runs Southeast. Following High Street, you see several stores on your right that are displaying rental signs for new startups, while other are simply for sale. Mixed in-between the closed establishments, you pick out a simi-busy bakery, several smaller residential buildings, and an unmarked establishment with a couple shady looking thugs lingering around its entrance.
While clambering down the road with an overwhelming amount of gear, Bryndis gets an uneasy feeling. She can’t quite put her finger on it, but she begins to feel like something is off. The type of feeling you get when someone is looking directly over your shoulder.
Aside from the bakery shop, which has a twenty-person line out it’s door, High Street is fairly slow. The occasional pedestrian glances your way as you lug your load past their building, but aside from that, the street is vacant of random venders.
It doesn’t take long before you reach Festival Street. After making a left turn you see the “Red Dog Smithy” sitting next to a vacant lot, which has a couple wooden crosses staked into the ground. Just past the shop, walking down Undercliff Way, you see Talienda and company, who great you and then head over.
The smithy looks open for business, with a set of barn-like wooden doors that set open, reveling a large hearth, four anvils, several grasping irons, and a bald man with bright red chops that run the length of his face. The man seems angry and is currently speaking with an older woman, who is standing there with a set of horseshoes in her hand. She seems terrified, and rightfully so, as the man is yelling at her at the top of his voice. “I don’t care if your husband died. What in the hell does that have to do with the work it took me to make those…...” His words are cut short as soon as he catches sight of the group gathering outside of his shop. "Ok, ok, come back later and I’ll see what I can do.” He says in a last-ditch effort to end the conversation with the old lady. Now, no longer paying attention to the older woman, the smith slowly walks over to his wide-open doors and begins staring in your direction. The motivation for the smithy’s unusual name becomes apparent as two red mastiffs come slinking out the smith’s door and take up comfortable positions just outside the shop's main entrance.
Cocking an eyebrow at the two women's condition, Bryndís asks Talienda "What happened to you two? You look like s^!t."
But she says this in a friendly way.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
As they approach the smithy, Bryndís lays out a bargaining strategy to Wayilant.
"We sell the small stuff here since there would not be many buyers for it in this town, no value. I think he will not pay well because he will take it all apart and reuse the pieces in other things."
"Good sized things we will take to the armorer unless he offers a good price like we would get at the other place."
Talienda lets out a harsh laugh.
"I suppose we do," she admits, her tone sour. "It's a long story and one that I nor Alina are up to telling at the moment. I don't think anyone will be coming after us, but I also don't want us to be alone either. I trust you and Wayilant, Alina doesn't distrust you two, and to be perfectly frank, I think the two of us could use the reassurance being near you two brings."
Alina manages to smile, though it's clear that she's all but out on her feet.
"Apologies, Miss Bryndis," she says, "I know you don't like trouble, but it seems to find us no matter what we do."
Taliend and Alina nearly topple over when Echo jumps up onto Talienda's pack and climbs to get away from the two mastiffs. They manage to catch themselves, but it did look a little dicey for a few heartbeats.
Overhearing the man, the smith apparently, talking to the old woman, Talienda finds herself biting back a scathing remark lest she sour the deal Bryndis and Wayilant hope to make. Alina glances at her mistress with concern, knowing the young woman well enough to understand that some of the restraints on her temper have badly frayed. Feeling the anxiety Echo has as the cat senses Alina's concern, Talienda lets out a sigh.
"If you're certain that you can get a worthwhile deal from him," Talienda mutters to Bryndis, her tone making it clear she's not at all sure that is possible, much less likely.
Seeing that the man is finished talking to the woman, Talienda nods her head towards her after getting Alina's attention. Seeing the way things are going, Alina sighs and nods in agreement, or at least acquiescence.
"Excuse me ma'am," Talienda says in gentle voice that she keeps quiet enough to keep from disturbing the conversation Bryndis and Wayilant have with the smith, "I know it's rude to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing the tail-end of your conversation with the, ah, gentleman over there. Is everything alright? Is there anything we may do to help?"
Despite looking like she and Alina had just survived a goblin surprise party, Talienda's natural charm and kindness help convey her concern and desire to help while Alina's earnestness helps alleviate any fears of this being a set up. At least, that's what Talienda wants to think is going on instead of the far more likely possibility of the woman taking pity on a pair of ragged, exhausted girls who didn't have the good sense to find a soft bed to sleep in after getting a hot bath.
The woman looks down at a pair of horseshoes in her hand and then sighs slightly. “My husband bought these for our cart horse. He passed away a few days ago. He was our family’s primary support, so I have been trying to pull together everything I can to keep us up and running in the wake of his absence. I was hoping the smith would take these back. I suppose it’s asking a lot seeing he took the time to craft them.” She responds in an obviously defeated tone.
Off in the distance, Talienda and Alina both notice a small group of men walk round the corner of Festival Street. They freeze in place once they catch sight of your group and then turn around and walk away. Talinda recognizes one of the men as being involved in her more recent situation.
Talienda manages to keep the anxiety from showing on her face as she spots the group, and one of the men from the past days' fiasco in particular, stop and turn around when catching sight of the group. Why, she wonders, did they do that? She hopes it's due to Bryndis' clear competence and equally clear in ability to suffer fools, but a pit in her stomach suggests otherwise.
"I see," she says to the woman as her situation becomes clear. Worrying about what she just saw will have to wait, she decides. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss, ma'am. I know losing a loved one is never easy." Talienda's expression turns shadowed as for a moment she remembers the grief and pain she felt when her mother and then her father had died. She shakes the darkening mood away and turns to the question she wanted to ask next. "You said you were trying to just keep things running, for how long?"
Alina tries to turn to get a better look, but winces as she puts weight on the leg Talienda is helping to support. She can no more fathom why the men ducked back behind the corner than Talienda can, but she is almost certain she's not going to like the reason. The past few days have given her plenty of evidence to reinforce that belief. She listens to the conversation Talienda has with half an ear, more worried about what they might be running into soon.
Shrugging, Bryndís shows patience.
"Yesterday we looked like s^!t and could not tell our stories until the next day. It can wait. We are staying at a place that is as safe as anywhere. You can stay there too."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Bryndís eyes the horseshoes.
"So you would sell those horseshoes? For how much? I need such a thing as those."
After leaving the White Deer, you make an immediate left, which takes you to Church Street. From there, you can see the looming Sandpoint Cathedral off to your left. The building is easily the largest structure in Sandpoint, which takes up most of the eastern part of the city. Traveling down the road, you note several statues outside the building representing Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae, and Shelyn. Large stained-glass windows decorate the upper reaches of the building, while large, thick, oak doors stand wide-open, allowing the public free access.
Wayilant grumbles to himnself. "Where's Cayden's statue, I wonder..!"
As they approach the smithy, Bryndís lays out a bargaining strategy to Wayilant.
"We sell the small stuff here since there would not be many buyers for it in this town, no value. I think he will not pay well because he will take it all apart and reuse the pieces in other things."
"Good sized things we will take to the armorer unless he offers a good price like we would get at the other place."
The cleric nods. "Good strategy. I like it."
Wayilant gently sets down the armor sets weighing him down and approaches the balding red-haired man. "Good day, sir. As you can see, I and my companion have some armor we wish to sell. Are you the owner of this establishment?" The aasimar smiles.
No one seems to notice your concerns as you mask them with a great deal of expertise. Alina, on the other hand, looks as if she has seen a ghost. During your conversation with the old lady, Alina nudges you in the rib's multiple times with her elbow. As fare as the men’s motive for leaving, you are simply unsure.
The woman sighs once again. “I’m not sure to be honest. My first reaction was to try and take over my husband’s rout. You see, he was a traveling salesman, who peddles goods between her and Magnimar. Or at least he did. These horseshoes, which came in a set of four, set us back a lot. He said it would be well worth the coin and I believed him. Hell, I still do, but I simply can’t afford them right now. I have the other two here in my bag.” She says while pointing at a burlap sack that has been manipulated into a shoulder bag. “I was hoping the smith would refund their cost. I suppose, if I had the original payment back, it would keep me up and running for quite some time.”
As you approach Talienda you get a sense that she is genuinely concerned for the old lady’s situation. That said, her servant, Alina, looks completely terrified for some reason. You catch most of their conversation as you approach. After you inquire about buying the horseshoes, the old lady brightens up a bit. “I would love to sell them. My husband paid three thousand gold for them. Would you be willing to buy them for that?” She asks in a completely hopeful tone. There is something about this old woman that is pissing you off. You feel your anger begin to boil, but you’re not quite sure why.
The man smiles as you lug over the armor and bundles of weapons. “Who else do you think would be the owner, those guys?” He says in a sarcastic tone while pointing over at the mastiffs. After taking a moment to look you over very carefully, he continues. “I’m always looking to take in some adventuring leftovers if the price is right!" He begins looking you over a second time. “There is something different about you. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’re different in some way.” He say just before glancing down at your sword. After seeing the sword’s crest, he swallows deeply. “Are you associated with the mayor?” He asks in a tone that seems to have changed greatly. All the sarcasm that existed a moment ago, seems to have vanished instantly.
The man smiles as you lug over the armor and bundles of weapons. “Who else do you think would be the owner, those guys?” He says in a sarcastic tone while pointing over at the mastiffs. After taking a moment to look you over very carefully, he continues. “I’m always looking to take in some adventuring leftovers if the price is right!" He begins looking you over a second time. “There is something different about you. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’re different in some way.” He say just before glancing down at your sword. After seeing the sword’s crest, he swallows deeply. “Are you associated with the mayor?” He asks in a tone that seems to have changed greatly. All the sarcasm that existed a moment ago, seems to have vanished instantly.
Wailant decided to put all his cards on the table. "I'm a close associate of the Deverin Family, not blood-related. My party recently completed a quest from The Mayor. And in her gratitude, she gifted me this beautiful blade."
Wailant decided to put all his cards on the table. "I'm a close associate of the Deverin Family, not blood-related. My party recently completed a quest from The Mayor. And in her gratitude, she gifted me this beautiful blade."
“Well now, that sounds like an interesting tale to be sure. I’m Das Korvut , but you can simply call me Das. I’m the owner of this smithy. Normally I don’t carry odds and ends here at the forge. What I craft, I generally sell through the general store. I do take on consignments from time to time and I do high quality work when that happens, but selling her really isn’t a thing. Now, that doesn’t mean I’m uninterested. I do a lot of business here in Sandpoint and I know a lot of people, which includes venders of all kinds. If you're willing to part with some of that gear at a reasonable price, I could easily find the appropriate home for it.” You kind of feel like the politeness he is showing is coming at no small effort by the man. He stumbles at times trying to find the right word to use or simply to replace a profanity that is obviously on the tip of his tongue. “To make things simple, what are you selling and how much do you want?”
As the woman focuses on Bryndis, she turns to Alina and lets her trepidation show.
"I saw them, though I couldn't tell you why they slipped back around the corner," she whispers. "Let me know if you see them again."
Then she hears something that has her turning back to the woman, her eyes wide in shock. Three thousand sails?! For horseshoes?!
"Th-three thousand, you said? Would you mind if I got a better look at them," she asks as she holds out her free hand.
Meanwhile, Echo slips her tail around Talienda's neck as she takes up a watch along with Alina. Alina tries to keep expression cool and calm, but she seems more skittish than Wayilant or Bryndis would have seen her.
Talienda traces a rune in the air with paintbrush only she can see as she sings a series of notes that follow the sweep her finger. A few seconds after starting to draw the glowing curves and lines, the sorceress finishes and the rune flares for a moment as her eyes glow. She focuses on the horseshoe, trying to determine what magics it might have to justify such a high price. As she does so, she notes the quality of the work and any flourishes that the smith might have added.
Wayilant explained what the duo had, and wanted fair market value for the items. The cleric is willing to negotiate the price.
Not more than a few weeks prior, you found yourself sitting in one of the private rooms of the Strapping Lad waiting for a private audience with Elias Sayer. After an enjoyable evening of dinning and games, he finally got down to the real reason of your invitation. “Liotierri, I hope it is ok if I call you by your first name now that we have gotten to know each other. I have recently spoken with representatives of your faith and have personally paid for their support in a matter that has recently escalated. You see, a small group of Sczarni thugs have recently taken it upon themselves to lean on one of our brothels in Sandpoint. For some reason, they think that because we are all the way over in Kaer Maga that we won’t bother with an establishment in Sandpoint. Well, they are wrong. That particular establishment represents a large revenue. In fact, I would go as far as to say it brings in a massive revenue. Massive enough that we will secure it from unwanted distractions no matter the cost.
From what I understand, the brothel, which is called the Pixie’s Kitten, has lost a number of escorts do to being strong-armed by one of Sandpoint’s local Sczarni gangs. They call themselves the Bunyip Club and are held up in a small tavern called the Fatman’s Feedbag. I would like you to travel to Sandpoint and secure a room at that inn. Gather as much information on this Bunyip club as you can and then throw a wrench in their operation. Try to be discreet, but whatever they got going on, ruin it.
The last bit of information I received, stated that they were looking to cash in on some noble’s bounty. The bounty sounds like a moderate sum of coin, so if you can keep the mark out of their hands, all the better. And for God sakes, if you happen to find out who is leaning on our escorts, resolve that problem. You do understand what I mean by resolve the problem, right?”
After validating the churches support in the matter, you secured passage on a river boat heading down the Yondabakari River, which took you all the way to Magnimar. From there, it was easy to find passage to Sandpoint.
After disembarking in Sandpoint, you found stabling for your horse at the Goblin Squash Stables and then rented a room at the Fatman’s Feedbag. It only took a few days for you to catch wind about a woman being held captive somewhere within the tavern. Recently you have overheard a few thugs mention that the b+~!# somehow escaped.
You're making a f~*+ing scene.
She met up with a raggedy looking woman and some sort of holy man.
Keep an eye on them. If you catch her alone, grab her. If not, I will arrange something a bit more intrusive.
OK, well head back and keep a low profile.
[ooc](Barkeep) Shakes his head and exhales deeply.
Bryndís is absolutely baffled by the sum the woman names. She feels suddenly indignant, like the old woman is trying to swindle her because she was about to do a generous thing.
"I don't have that much money" she says tersely, turning away.
The old woman holds out the horseshoe but is reluctant on handing them over. Within her grasp, Talienda is able to cast her spell and in fact the horseshoes do detect as magical. They glow with a single faint aura, which seems to radiate from both shoes.
As Talienda works her spell, the woman begins shaking vigorously. Bryndis notices that the lady gets an absolute horrified look on her face. She tries to steady herself by talking about her husband, but it seems to have a limited effect. “My husband said these would decrease our road time and minimize our exposure to unexpected confrontations along the way.” Before she can finish her thought, her arm lowers, braking Talienda’s concentration. “I’m sorry. All this witchcraft is making me uncomfortable.” She says while placing the two horseshoes into her burlap shoulder bag.
The smith turns and walks with you into the shop. “Well, normally I would offer, say, twenty-five percent of the retail value of such mundane items. That would allow me the option of selling them on consignment, or simply scrapping them for material. Seeing you’re a friend of the mayor, I could offer fifty percent.”
Talienda blinks as the woman takes back the horseshoes. The glow in her eyes goes out like the light of a candle being blown out.
"Witchcraft," she asks before realizing the woman is talking about herself. "Oh, you mean me."
Talienda gives the woman an apologetic look. She should have known better. In Abosolom magic is far from uncommon and openly practiced. She didn't understand the strange powers that had awakened during the ordeal at Beldrin's Bluff, much less the ones she appears to have gained since reading that strange tome. She could only imagine what those powers must be like to someone who rarely sees anyone casting spells.
"Forgive me, ma'am," she apologies "I did not mean to frighten you. I can tell you that your husband was likely being truthful. I do not know what they do, exactly, but the shoes do have some small magic in them. I'm afraid that I can't tell you much more than that."
Talienda looks to Bryndis' back as she moves away and wonders if she could persuade her to buy the shoes. She knows how much they would have been paid for completing the task.
She shakes the thought away. No, it's not fair to them. She did nothing to help them, probably even caused them a lot of trouble when she left.
"I'm sorry ma'am," she says, "but three thousand sails is more than we have to spare. Is there something else that we can do to help?"
She can feel the effort it takes Alina not to smack her forehead as she hears her mistress utter that dreaded phrase.