The Rusty Flagon Inn (Inactive)

Game Master Nightfiend

The morning’s frosty dew beckons beyond the Rusty Dragon’s windows, while the group enjoys a seasonal defiance of warmth within the warm confines of the inn. The fresh smell of cooked ham and bacon thickly coats the air within the main dining room, while a cool breeze rushes past the inn's main entrance as a number of new patrons make their way into the establishment. Three waitresses in total make their way around the floor, two of which make frequent stops along the inn’s upper floor. It isn’t long before plates of hot food start making their way out to the tables.

One of the younger waitresses eventually makes her way over to your table. “Well met everyone. I will be your server today. The grill is hot, and we are having a special on anything with eggs. Seems one of our local suppliers just brought in a large shipment and we are a bit overstocked. Also, I tallied up your expenses thus fare and I’m happy to report that the mayor’s credit covers all of it. That said, her credit has now expired so I can either run a tab for you or you are welcome to pay as you go. Now that’s out of the way, can I get anyone anything to eat or drink?” The young girl seems a bit uncomfortable discussing matters of coin but is holding up fairly well considering her younger age.

Julie tugs on Wayilant’s arm. After not getting an immediate response, she then tugs on Alina’s arm. Could I get some pancakes?” She asks in a slightly excited tone. “Big ones with resins in them and lots of syrup? Oh, and a glass of milk.” You notice that another child across the way is paying close attention to Julie's request and almost immediately begins tugging on his mother’s arm after hearing her describe the pancakes.

I will go through everyone’s profile tonight and see if they are all up to date. Once everyone is squared away, I will press things forward. Note that the PC Tracker above doesn’t reflect the new level. I will update that once I have everyone’s new stats.

Alina looks at Julie before looking at Wayilant and grinning.

"I think she has the right idea. Could you put blueberries in mine," she asks the server.

Talienda smiles at the young girl serving them.

"I think a tab would be alright. We'll settle it before we leave," she says. "As for breakfast, I think I'll have what Miss Julie is having."

"We'll have two orders of pancakes", Wayilant smiled. "I'll have mine with blueberries, though, please?" Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21

Bryndís sleeps in a little, but not so much she misses the morning. She feels fine due to her talent for shrugging of the aftereffects of her overindulgences.

Since her last meal was eggs, Bryndís decides to skip breakfast at the Rusty Dragon. Instead She takes another shot at buying some pastries from Sandpoint Savories and eating them in peace with no disruption unlike last time.

So the trip out is also productive, Bryndís stuffs the crossbows and longswords they've collected into a sack she takes along so she can go to Savah's Armory afterward and see about selling them off.

I don't think anyone has their eye on the regular longswords or crossbows for keeping. If you do speak up now.

Govrina wakes and quietly fades into the background as much as she is able. She marvels at the Flagon Slayers ability to focus on the moment and find something to enjoy in the minute at hand whenever possible.

I intend to keep up as much as I can, but feel free to bot me if I don’t respond regularly.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

I intend to keep up as much as I can, but feel free to bot me if I don’t respond regularly.

Fork it. I feel this interaction needs to happen. I beg everyone's pardon for this post.

Talienda looks over to whom Wayilant is calling out to and finds herself a little embarrassed to realize it's Govrina. She hadn't even noticed that she'd come down.

"Besides, food always tastes better with good company, Miss Govrina" she adds. The mention of being affiliated with Pathfinders gets her wondering about what they would be doing next. Once the others have settled and their orders taken, the young noblewoman speaks up.

"Speaking of Pathfinders, did you ever tell Lady Heidmarch about what happened on the mission we came here to do, Master Wayilant? And speaking of missions, do you think that those missing people in Magnimar are related to the people we found on the 'boat trip?'"

"Speaking of Pathfinders, did you ever tell Lady Heidmarch about what happened on the mission we came here to do, Master Wayilant? And speaking of missions, do you think that those missing people in Magnimar are related to the people we found on the 'boat trip?'"

The cleric looked stumped. "Arg..no. Techincally, I think, we completed our first ever mission for The Rusty Flagon. I..imagine we are to return to Maginmar for a full debriefing. I hope that 9nce Lady Heidmarch knows the full scope of our activities, the Lady might have a more clear picture of what she need The Flagon Slayers to do next."

"Miss Fireblood? Would you please join us?" Wayilant asked in a tone to just go over the tavern's din. The demonic Govrina hesitantly sits down at the table. The aasimar cleric leans toward the kineticist. "Um, Miss Fireblood? I was thinking. Considering how negative your experience in Sandpoint has been, I'd like to ask to you to please stay with The Flagon Slayers until our business in Sandpoint has concluded. Then, if you wish to, you can pursue your own fate once we have left the area. But you did handle yourself very well martially on our 'cave adventure' and 'boat trip'. The Flagon Slayers, our group, is loosely affiliated with a new Pathfinder Chapter in Magnimar. And we have recently lost the services of a few members. The Flagon Slayers would be lucky to have you in our number.
Oh, you to, Mr. Radulescu ! if you are interested."

Smiling gently at the cleric’s invitation Govrina pauses to consider her options as the conversation continues without her. She knows only what her father told her about the Pathfinders: ‘Educated men and women trying desperately, more often than not, to do the right thing.’

When she replies finally, it is with a steady voice and a nod.

”I accept your offer goodman Wayilant. Once in Magnimar I will remain in your group’s company until you move on, or I do. Maybe its possible the Pathfinder Society can help me find out how my powers work and how I can gain more control over it.”

Wayilant smiles. "Thank you, Miss Fireblood. I prefer your last name. I hope you don't mind. My tongue has difficulties with Govrina, I suppose."

"What about Rina," Talienda asks. "Would that be alright, Miss Govrina?"

Wayilant & Julie Pancakes for two. ( -2 silver)
Talienda & Alina Pancakes for two. (-2 silver)
Bryndis Pastries to fill a Bloodrager’s gut. (-4 silver) (No interruption this time.)
Bryndis 5 Crossbows and 5 Longswords sold. (+125 gold) (50% of market value)
Bryndis Sweet talking the deal. Diplomacy check (DC 20) Success = +75 more gold for the swords and crossbows. Fail = No effect.) (Nothing like a sweet talking Bloodrager).

As the morning continues, the time to meet with the sheriff finally arrives. With the group now properly together, you head down Sandpoint’s bustling streets. Unlike the light traffic of its early morning routine, its midmorning activity is much busier. The garrison, on the other hand, is a bit late to open compared to its listed hours of operation. As you approach the garrison, you see sheriff Hemlock unlocking its main gates. Outside the garrison, at least twelve guards await entrance and are apparently eager to begin their rounds. The sheriff, who looks like he just woke up, glances your way and then enters the garrison.

When you arrive, the sheriff is sitting at his desk while thumbing through a ledger. “Come in, come in. Please have a seat. We have a lot to discuss.” Situated around the room are several chairs, which look to be arranged in a way that everyone can interact with one another without having to move much. The sound of the thick ledger closing seems to indicate that the meeting is officially at hand.

One of the young guards, who has been posted up outside the office door, steps in and pulls the door shut. Almost on que, the sheriff gets up and moves over to one of the chairs along the wall. You notice the sheriff is now supporting a good size shiner that blends into his darker complexion, making it difficult to see. “Well, it turns out that I was able to catch up with Stoot’s bastard son. For my trouble, he provided me with this little parting gift.” He says while pointing at his swollen right eye. “Turns out that the man is a bit more formidable than I gave him credit for. Perhaps I should have paid a little more attention to what the other prisoners were saying about him. Anyway, I have spent most the day, yesterday, questioning him. It turns out that the man was propositioned by one of their higher-ranking priests about abducting the girls. In turn, they paid him a fair amount of coin and, well.” He pauses for a moment searching for the right words. “Some induced companionship, for his trouble. I now have a name associated with this boondoggle and a point of contact in Ustalav.”

After leaning back in his chair slightly, he continues. “Additionally, Captain Henderson headed back out to the slave ship shortly after giving me a full briefing on what happened. He spent most the night preparing the ship to be towed back to port. From what he was saying, its main deck was left in a way that might cause panic among the common folk. With the ship back in port, I can examine it firsthand without having to leave the city unattended. I presume he will be back sometime later this morning. During the debriefing, he mentioned something about a diary that might hold some clues. If you are ok with it, I would like to read through it carefully, in case something was missed.”

Looking around the room, the sheriff takes a moment to allow for any input. “Please, from your perspective, if you have anything to add, now’s the time to share it.”

"What was the name of this contact, Sheriff?" Wayilant asked.

Wayilant smiles. "Thank you, Miss Fireblood. I prefer your last name. I hope you don't mind. My tongue has difficulties with Govrina, I suppose."

Shrugging Govrina nods.

”My mother gave me the name. But I never met her. No idea if it means something. Its not Fiendish…Anyway my friends back home often called me ‘Rina as a nickname. You are free to do either. ‘Miss Fireblood’ makes you sound like my teacher Grandmother Dragon. She was a halfling sorcerer who was related to an ancient white dragon. Wisest person I ever met, but could scare the color out of my scales when she got angry.”

”My mother gave me the name. But I never met her. No idea if it means something. Its not Fiendish…Anyway my friends back home often called me ‘Rina as a nickname. You are free to do either. ‘Miss Fireblood’ makes you sound like my teacher Grandmother Dragon. She was a halfling sorcerer who was related to an ancient white dragon. Wisest person I ever met, but could scare the color out of my scales when she got angry.”

Wayilant nods his head. "'Rina, it is."

Oh, you to, Mr. Radulescu ! if you are interested."[/b]

"Much appreciated, Mr. Arden. As I said before, I find myself between jobs and a source of income is needed to get me some pancakes for my breakfast. And your group seems to be getting involved in most interesting adventures." Darius has a warm polite smile on his face, but the thoughts beneath are darker.

Never to be poor again. Do whatever required to stay out of poverty. Not the most noble goal in life, but a clear one.

He watches the sheriff stride in, and keeps his distance. He has been out of any shady dealings for quite some time, but he cannot shake the natural aversion a Korvosan street kid has toward law enforcement. There seems to be many details in this kidnapping plot he is still unaware of, so he listens through the sheriff's summary.

"I think it's pretty much there in the journal, sheriff. These baieti were some cultists trying to free Tar-Baphon. Needed the girls as sacrifices for the ritual." he finally speaks, offering the bits of information he remembers from yesterday. "For clues, I think there were some names mentioned."

The sheriff looks over at Wayilant and responds. “The name of the high priest that contacted Stoot is Drusilla Amdis. I’m not sure if she is politically tied or not. I intend to run the name by one of my contacts in Magnimar, which will likely produce some information. How much information will depend heavily on how much she is in the public’s eye. That said, I have a contact in Ustalav that I’m trying to reach out to. It’s a long distance away so I’m working on a magic means to reach them. This contact is a bit more eccentric than I prefer deal with, but considering the circumstances, I feel having a contact on the inside worth the effort.”

After highlighting the Ustalav contact, the sheriff reaches over to his desk and pulls out a sealed letter. “Because of the fare reaching implications of this little problem, and the possibility of political fallout if things get worse, I intend to hire someone not directly tied to Sandpoint to investigate this cult. The Flagon Slayers are obviously my first choice. That said, because of the extreme distance to Ustalav, I would understand if you declined. Once I have completed my inspection of the ship and heard back from both my Ustalav and Magnimar contacts, I will be offering 10,000 gold, backed by Mayor Deverin, for an adventuring group to head to Ustalav and resolve this little problem. If you decide to pass on the job, I will be submitting a request with the Pathfinder Society. I’m sure you’re familiar with the process. With a 10,000-bounty laying in the balance, I’m sure it will attract some serious contenders. But, as I said before, the Flagon Slayers are my preferred option. Your involvement in this from the get-go, makes your perspective somewhat clear about what has already happened. Anyway, I will let you consider the offer. I still have a couple days before I have to send this request out. Besides, Risa says she requires a little more time to work out something she calls a sending. I guess it is some sort of magic that lets her message someone a long distance away.” He shrugs before continuing. “She said the spell is slightly beyond her ability. Supposedly she has a couple scrolls that can accomplish the task. Hemlock shudders slightly after considering his next statement. “In exchange, I’m obligated to provide her with dinner and a night of entertainment. I really don’t want to think about her idea of entertainment.”

"Besides, Risa says she requires a little more time to work out something she calls a sending. I guess it is some sort of magic that lets her message someone a long distance away.” He shrugs before continuing. “She said the spell is slightly beyond her ability. Supposedly she has a couple scrolls that can accomplish the task." Hemlock shudders slightly after considering his next statement. “In exchange, I’m obligated to provide her with dinner and a night of entertainment. I really don’t want to think about her idea of entertainment.”

"Now, Sheriff", Wayilant silently chuckled. "I'm sure she's a lovely woman. Plus, there's something to be said about 'expereinced women'."

Turning to those gathered, the cleric began to expound. "Well, Slayers. I'm no Pharasman. But it's begining to feel our Fates are tied to this little town for a while longer. That and Ustalav is a land dedicated to The Gray Lady. It is a humorless land, for good reason I imagine. Caydenites are not well treated there. But if it is the Collective Will of The Flagon Slayers, then we shall go. Perhaps writing a missive to Magnamar to let Lady Heidmarch our intention, if we take the quest."

"It seems that is where this trail follows. If we are heading to Ustalav, how are we to get there? If overland, then I think we should sell the ship. Maybe you could make use of it, Sheriff Hemlock," she asks.

The sheriff shifts in his seat when the question about transportation is brought up. “I’m glad to hear you are interested in the mission.” He says while sliding the sealed letter back onto his desk. “There are a few loose ends that need to be addressed before serious plans can be made. I’ve taken into consideration the extreme distance from her to Ustalav. There are the common methods of making a trip like this, which include land base travel and a long Voyage to the mouth of the Sellen River. There are charters that commonly navigate that river and could likely do so without too much complication. The voyage to the river's mouth, on the other hand, will be long and time consuming. That fact works for us and against us. On one hand, it will likely take the cult a long time to find out what happened here. On the other hand, it becomes an obstacle for us to overcome.”

The sheriff stands up and then makes his way back over to his desk. “Depending on the response I get back from Magnimar, there might be a third option. I’m a little hesitant to bring this option to the table until I know if it’s a possibility or not. You see, twice a year Sandpoint is visited by an odd little gnome named Fizzledeck. What sets this Gnome apart from those that customarily visit Sandpoint is the fact that he owns a very unique ship.” The sheriff pauses a moment to consider how he is going to explain the situation. “Fizzledeck’s ship is different due to the fact that it navigates through the air. An air ship some might call it.” He pauses again to let his last statement sink in. “As far as I’m aware of, it’s the only ship of its kind. The issue with this option is Sandpoint’s a bit out of his normal routine for this time of year. He normally doesn’t get here until sometime in Desnus, so it’s a bit out of his way.”

Hemlock takes a deep breath while thinking about the enormity of the task at hand. “The gnome owes me a favor. A big one in my opinion and I think he is currently in Magnimar dropping off a shipment of high-grade weapons from Kraggodan. So, depending on the reply I get from my contact in Magnimar, his ship might be an option.”

"With consideration of the slave ship you salvaged; I’m interested. The funds will come from Sandpoint’s defense budget, so I can only offer 3,000 gold for it. I know the ship is worth more than that, but that’s all I have to offer. Because of our affiliation, and the fact that you have done so much for our city, the ship will be available to you during any mission you undertake on behalf of Sandpoint, myself, or Mayor Deverin. If you accept my offer, I will have the ship towed directly into the city’s defense port so I can conclude my investigation. If not, you are free to do with it what you see fit.”

“In addition to the 3,000 gold I can offer for the ship, I’m also authorized to provide you with half of the payment for accepting the job, up front. The mayor has entrusted me with the payment, and I have it here with me now.” The sheriff pulls out a large pouch of coins and then sits it on the desk. “I also have the items collected from the cave stored in one of my backrooms. You are welcome to sort it all out at your leisure.”

Ten. Thousand. Gold.!!!

That is a lot of money. Darius has some serious trouble keeping his face straight. But he tries his best, doesn't want to sound too interested. But with that kind of money he'll gladly trek to Ustalav or wherever.

Not that he knows much about the place. He's seen in on some maps - it's not entirely on the other side of the world. But not close either. And not perhaps the most pleasant place to be. But...

"I'll happily contribute to the collective will of the Slayers. I'm all for this trip to Ustalav. Clearly quite an adventure and gold to be had." Darius says and raises a toast.

"And what comes to the means of transportation, I'd always prefer a ship to walking - whether airborne or sailing the rivers."

Gravi nearly chokes on his tea when the Sheriff mentions the bounty, But I think Ustalav is lovely this time of year. I'm happy to take a ship and go by that route - or this idea of an airship.... he muses.

Assuming Govrina is in the room...

Knowledge/history(Flying Ships): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Knowledge/engineering(Flying Ships): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

"Consider me interested! Money aside, I would love to see how such a thing can fly. Not to mention going all the way to Ustalav seems like the right thing to do. As long as the Flagon Slayers will accept me among them for the journey."

She flutters her small wings unconsciously.

Talienda chuckles when she sees Govrina's wings flapping. She isn't sure why, but she finds it adorable.

"Well, it seems we are mostly of one mind. I would love to see this airship as well," she says. "If Master Fizzledeck is unavailable, we shall have to make certain we come back to see him and his wondrous sounding contraption."

I think we're in agreement, admittedly Talienda, Alina, Wayliant, we're pretty much all newcomers here, but it sounds like the right thing to do. Plus, putting a dagger to the heart of some Urgathians seems like a good plan for the month. plus the coin isn't bad at all...

Wayliant straightens up in his chair. "Although I see myself as The Flagon Slayer's Spiritual Leader, I also believe Flagon decisions should be put to a majority vote. For example, I was outvoted for the destruction of the found ship, but that's neither hear nor there."

The cleric looks to the inquisitor. "Lioterri, you handled yourself very well in the cave and on the ship. Plus, honestly, though Calistrians are seen as a sister faith to Caydenites; you are by far, the most reasonable and agreeable Calistrian I've ever met. I would be honored if you became a Flagon Slayer."

"And, 'Rena'." Wayilant nods to the tiefling. "You also handled yourself with distinction in my eyes. Your unique powers were certainly a match for our foes. I would also welcome you as a Flagon Slayer. With the blood of The Upper and Lower Planes fueling our success, who could stand against The Flagon Slayers!" The aasimar pumping his fist in the air for emphasis.

"And to Darius, who had the skill and power to help us tackle multiple enemies, even after your recent captivity, speaks volumes of your arcane education. As I think I may have said before, The Flagon Slayers are currently lacking in knowledge of the arcane. And will likely need it in the days ahead. If it is the decision of The Flagon Slayers, I'd be pleased to welcome you into our ranks."

"I just hope everyone understands, that I will be taking my new role as father to Julie, very seriously. I will raise her as we go forth through Golarion. Teaching her how to read, write, fight, and pray. So we're a paired set."
Wayilant looks to the other Flagon Slayers for their response.

Sheriff Hemlock slides the sack of coins over to your side of the desk. “It sounds like we may have an agreement. Within the sack is 5,000 gold. This will serve as an upfront payment for completing the task. To be clear, the task we are hiring you to complete has two expectations. First, we want you to investigate the cult and find out as much as you can about them. Second, and most importantly, we want you to eliminate the threat to Sandpoint. How that gets accomplished is open to your discretion. Depending on the circumstances, it might be as simple as a conversation with a meaningful representative of this cult. Or, it might literally mean the cult has to be eliminated. Whatever removes Sandpoint off the menu will constitute success. That said, from what we know, they intend to free the Whispering Tyrant. That in itself leads me to believe that the world would be a better place without them. That fact also opens up doors into Ustalav’s history with the Tyrant. There are likely high reaching players who would have an added interest in seeing this problem go away. I’m guessing if you play your cards correctly, you might be able to wrangle in additional support and funds from those players. I expect that the cult will have eyes and ears everywhere, so I recommend caution when speaking about your objective. Who knows how high up the chain that influence goes. I will provide you a detailed missive explaining your connection to me, but I would ask that you divulge it sparingly. Just in case there are political implications that hang in the balance.

The sheriff reaches into his drawer and pulls out a second sack of coins, somewhat smaller than the first, and then sits it on the desk. “The slave ship. Keeping it or selling it?”

As the group begins the open conversation about joining the Flagon Slayers, you notice that the sheriff starts paying close attention to the conversation.

Before long, a knock comes to the office door. “Sir, the Pelican is pulling into port,” a firm voice declairs from beyond the door. Shortly after, the sheriff heads over and opens the door. After a brief conversation with what appears to be a guard, he closes the door. “Well, it sounds like I’m needed in port. If you decide to sell the ship, please accept that second pouch of gold. If not, please secure the gold in my desk and lock the office door when you leave. The room with your loot in it is down the hall, second door on your right.” After handing Wayilant a set of keys, he continues. “Off the record, I consider you guys an extension of Sandpoint. Without a doubt, you have earned it. I would offer to deputize you if I wasn’t so concerned about the possible fallout that might occur with this Ustalav situation. For now, it's probably better if we keep a small official gap between you and the city. Those are the keys to the garrison. As long as it's open, you are welcome to utilize it. That includes the jails, offices, and storerooms. It should be as safe of a place to store things as anywhere in Sandpoint. I’m off to the docks. I suspect I will be there most of the day if you need me for anything.” With that, the sheriff turns and begins to head out.

I vote to sell the boat to Sandpoint.

+1 for selling the boat to Sandpoint.

"Thank you, Darius", Wayilant spoke. "I have two more items I'd like you to look at, please?"

The cleric produces a pewter flask and a whistle with Draconic written on the side.

Darius snaps awake from his daydreaming. "Ah, apologies, my friend. I completely forgot about those. I was lost in my thoughts on the mention of..." TEN! THOUSAND! GOLD PIECES! "... the.. erm.. job opportunity in Ustalac. But let me take a look now."

He repeats the gestures and mystic words of the previous casting, perhaps with a little bit drama this time.

Spellcraft @flask: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20
Spellcraft @whistle: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (14) + 12 = 26

Later, Darius responds to Wayilant's praise and invitation with a small nod. "Thank you, friend Wayilant. I have to confess I have no formal education - I am a self-learned man. But whatever knowledge I have gather, I am happy to put it in the group's use."

Then, just to hope no one objects him joining...

Darius explains the function of Azan-gund whistle. "CAYDEN!" Wayilant shouts in horror of the necromantic item he's been carrying for days.
"Why in Calistria's Left Nipple Ring did you show me this whistle?! Aw man! And Julie touched it! Gods-da..darn it!" The aasimar stoped himself from swearing in front of his adoptive daughter.

The black studded leather and another potion needs to be identified too I think. Should I have taken knowledge Arcana on my new level instead? Its not alien to my character concept.

"I think you're more at risk than she is, Master Wayilant," Talienda observes. "You've been carrying it. If it hasn't affected you nor Master Darius, I think Miss Julie should be fine. Still, it is a troublesome item. I think we should see if there's a way to secure it or destroy it. Perhaps Lady Heidmarch would know of someone that could do that. You should ask her when you and Miss Bryndis give your reports."

Wayilant smiled. "Lady Talienda, that is a brilliant idea! I wish I thought of it."

"Milady does have her moments," Alina says with poorly hidden pride. "As for Miss Julie. I can help keep an eye on her. Still, what I have heard about Ustalav makes me uneasy. I hope that we can take care of this quickly."

"Alina, Ustalav is a long journey from Sandpoint", Wayilant explains. "It will not be a quick trip. And the land is dangerous. I can't ask you to care for Julie for such a long period of time. Julie has an adventurer for a father, therefore she coming along. She'll see Golarion along with her father. In the same way you will with Lady Talienda."
Wayilant gave Julie a pointed look. "Julie will be a good girl: when I tell her to hide, she'll hide. When I tell her to run as far as her legs will carry her, she will. Do you understand, Julie?"

Alina blinks in surprise then sighs in exasperation.

"Master Wayilant, I'm not about to let you nor Lady Talienda face this alone. I'll be there to help watch over Julie and make sure she is safe. Besides, I am still in milady's service. If she goes to Ustalav, then so do I." She slides up next to the Caydenite and intertwines her fingers into his. "Not to mention that I've grown rather fond of you, Master Wayilant," she says quietly as she blushes.

Talienda grins as she watches Alina admit at least some of her feelings for Wayilant.

"Well, Master Wayilant, it seems that Alina has given you something rather precious. Please be careful with it," she cautions through a smug smile.

Turning to the others, she asks them, "We are selling the ship to Sandpoint, aren't we? I don't think it'll do us any good if we're heading inland to Lake Encarthan."

She slides up next to the Caydenite and intertwines her fingers into his. "Not to mention that I've grown rather fond of you, Master Wayilant," she says quietly as she blushes.

Talienda grins as she watches Alina admit at least some of her feelings for Wayilant.

"Well, Master Wayilant, it seems that Alina has given you something rather precious. Please be careful with it," she cautions through a smug smile.

Wayilant looks slightly uncomfortable under the scrunity of The gathered Flagon Slayers. "Alina. I am very fond of you, as well. Which we can talk about more privately later, okay!" The aasimar said exasperated.

Turning to the others, she asks them, "We are selling the ship to Sandpoint, aren't we? I don't think it'll do us any good if we're heading inland to Lake Encarthan."

Wayilant, still exasperated, sighed, giving Alina's fingers a little sqeeze in his hand. "Yes. If the Sheriff is fine with the condition of the boat, he can buy it.

Darius takes another look at the whistle, turning it in his hands. "Well... There certainly is a strong necromantic aura in this. But I doubt merely keeping it in your possession will tarnish your soul. Using it to waken the corpses of the dead on the other hand..."

He shurgs, putting the whistle down on the table.

"The thing about necromancy is... you better not overdo it. Be moderate if you have to use it. Disturbing the dead might leave their mark on you. But if you're worried about your soul, I can keep a hold of it for the time being."

The cleric considers Darius's offer. Wayilant felt a sense of ownership with the whistle. It was he who found the secret door and battled the undead guardians. Truthfully, looking back on the whole affair, the undead skeletons should have been a big giveaway. But now, holding Alina's hand, Wayialnt is reminded he has other priorities right now.

The caydenite pulls the whistle from his pocket and hand it to the arcanist. "Thank you, Darius. I appreciate it."

Bryndís practically drools openly at the Sheriff's mention of a 10,000 payout, and with half up front! She had already pushed the idea of going to Ustalav, so she is all in.

The whole 'airship' thing sounds very unnatural and dodgy to her, but she judges the money worth the possible hazards. Besides, if the thing acually works, it's just a trade of some known risks for a new set less known risks. It could be an even trade or thereabouts, and apparently the gnome isn't dead yet so why not?

Bryndís also votes to sell the ship to Sandpoint. It might be true it is worth more on the open market, but then there would be the trouble and waiting of finding a buyer. More than that though, Bryndís judges it too early to own a ship. The group has made some good money, and their streak is continuing, but she sees no immediate use for a ship, and they are not yet rich enough to pay overhead expenses on an item that will just sit around. Despite what the ignorant might think her origins imply, Bryndís is no seafarer and finds no intrinsic value in having a ship just to cruise around in a ship.

In the longer-term things may change. Having the reach a ship offers could expand their opportunities, but they have plenty at hand already. Also, once they are very wealthy, the expense of a ship will shrink proportionally.

And in the longest term, keeping very good relations with Sandpoint, favors done and so forth, can pay off well for her. Sandpoint is a pretty decent place. Mayor Bryndís sounds good. Mayor for Life Bryndís sounds even better.

When the Sheriff says "depending on the circumstances, it might be as simple as a conversation with a meaningful representative of this cult. Or, it might literally mean the cult has to be eliminated.", Bryndís hears eliminate the cult unless you simply can't.

She replies "there are six of us. We are very strong now. We will do what it takes so this will not happen again." She doesn't do mushy 'we love you' or 'we are proud to have you' stuff, so she simply states a number that includes Govrina, Darius, and Gravi.

"Well..." says Bryndís as she stands from her chair, "We have things to sort and sell. We should go look through the things and get started."

While she doesn't bring it up in the presence of the Sheriff, Bryndís has not at all forgotten the Pathfinder Society contract in Ustalav. It's a juicy amount as well. She will be urging the others to claim that mission as well so they can get a two for one journey deal. Efficiency matters.

"Well..." says Bryndís as she stands from her chair, "We have things to sort and sell. We should go look through the things and get started."

"Good enough for me", Wayilant smiles. "Welcome new members of The Flagon Slayers!!!"

The cleric turns to his girlfriend. "So, Alina. Julie and I are gonna help Bryndis play around in the loot. I'll find ya later." Wayilant plants a kiss in the handmaiden's hair. Father and daughter follow the bloodrager.

As they walk, Wayilant holds Julie's hand. "Julie. Papa has a task for you, my dear: I want you to find a good stick. It has to feel good in your hands, about as tall as your hips. The stick has to be held using only one hand, and when you swing it fast, it needs to make a [wwhhpp] sound. When you find such a stick that you're happy with, please bring it to me so I can see it."
Wayilant plans to use the found stick to begin Julie's martial weapon education. The cleric plans to dedicate part of each day to sword practice, working on the basics for now.

When Julie has been sent on her way to find the stick, Bryndís asks Wayilant "are you going to show her how to fling apples?"

"Eventually", Wayilant smiled as the bloodrager showed interest in his adoptive daughter.
"Maybe Auntie Bryndis could help make a game of it, if she so chooses", the cleric bowed his head as they walked.

Govrina laughs and makes an offer.

”Let me know if you need the apple to dodge or fight back! That’s easy enough for me and good practice for aether control.”

Wayilant guesses that 'Rina is only half-joking, but is so happy the thought of Julie's presence is seen as a positive. The aasimar smiles wider.