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"No, I'm fine," says Quentin in response to Bjorkus. "That was strange. Bees, even giant ones, aren't predators."
Yeah, the launch of the playtest is definitely having an impact, and with most of Paizo's staff at Gen Con, there may not be many people who can fix the lag time.
Quentin moves back toward the river and, as soon as he gets past Bjorkus, he unleashes another blast of red, pink, and black energy.
As the giant insects move toward the group, Quentin exclaims, "Belial's Boils!" and he moves back toward his companions. Then he concentrates. A nimbus of pink, black, and gray energy surrounds his hands, and he quickly thrusts one arm forward, sending a ray of destructive force at one of the foes.
"It might depend on what's bothering them," says Quentin as he moves away.
"Why would they let the bridge..." Quentin's thoughts are interrupted by the sight and sound of the massive insects. "Maybe something has agitated them," he muses aloud. He adds, "I'll try to get closer to the riverbed. See what's what." He starts moving quietly toward the water.
Back from vacation! There shouldn't be any more hiccups. Thanks for your patience.
"Oh, I see it - I'm just not fond of it," says Quentin. "Bad experiences in the woods. At least in the cities, I can understand the emotions, even from people trying to kill me."
I'll vote boar, simply because there's a chance it could lead to us getting an advantage with regard to the bandits.
Quentin says, "Fine with me. Who knows, the boar's activity could be due to the bandits moving into its hunting grounds. Worth a look."
Quentin shrugs back. "Probably not, but heading directly for the bandits now sounds like a lousy idea. Rather wait a bit and see if I get inspired. Heh."
Hey there - I just wanted to give you a heads-up that I'll be on vacation with my family in Washington, D.C. all of next week. It shouldn't interfere with posting, although my posts might be on the short side.
"Well, that's different," says Quentin, his eyebrows raised. "Thank you, Faolan. I appreciate the trust." To Selim, he says, "Fine. The Pulanti estate next. There probably isn't a connection with the bandits, but at least it'll give us time to come up with a good strategy against them."
"Yes, when we gave chase this morning, I noticed that you're ... different," says Quentin to Faolan. "And that's fine. We all have secrets, I'm sure. But if you're going to scout ahead, and we're going to get into a fight in the woods, then maybe you should describe what you 'really look like' so that we don't mistake you for something else and accidentally shoot you with a crossbow." He smiles a crooked smile. "Just a thought."
Quentin looks at his companions with a quizzical expression. "Anything else? I'd say we'd need to regain the element of surprise if we're going to take them on."
"Yeah," says Quentin. "Do you have any information about their numbers or who's leading them?"
Quentin looks around at the area and tries his best to appear harmless. He knows that he's not the best person to calm the guards.
Quentin smiles, which doesn't look particularly reassuring due to his scar. "I am definitely not what you see at first glance. And this?" He points at the scar. "THIS is a reminder of a time when I didn't listen to my instincts and run away when I should have. I'll always be straightforward with you -- with ALL of you."
Quentin adds to Faolan, "Friendliness is overrated. Trust your instincts - they're more reliable than any 'civilized' codes of conduct. You'll be fine. Like Selim says, keep your eyes open. People are rarely what they seem at first glance."
"To Bondhome and money!" says Quentin. "It's in the same direction as glory and adventure. Let's go." He wipes his mouth and gets to his feet.
"I'm not sure about taking on the bandits right now," says Quentin. "They're likely waiting for us. Give it another day, maybe." His eyebrows raise at the mention of the Pulantis. "The Pulantis have money and connections ... well, as connected as you can get in these parts. A visit would be worthwhile." He pauses to take another bite of his muffin. "So... Bondhome first, Pulantis second? We can figure out the rest -- including a name," he says with a nod to Celebrindal, "after that."
"Just some coffee and whatever fresh buns you have, please," says Quentin. "I may have had one tankard of mead too many last night, so I'll treat my stomach well today. That bard was good." As the others enter, he politely greets them with a nod. "I hope you slept well," he says.
"And a well-paid one, at that," adds Quentin. He turns to the woman and says, "I didn't catch your name earlier. Mine's Quentin Kroft. You're fast!" He says to the others, "Well, it's late and there's no way to catch up to him now. I'm in favor of listening to this supposedly good bard that Barnky hired, getting some rest, and making solid plans at first light. What say you, Selim?"
"All right," says Quentin. "Let's get back inside. I still have mead to finish. Then let's find this Bondhome chap." He goes back inside and returns to the bar. When he sees Barnky, he asks, "Barnky, who was that fellow who bolted out of here a few seconds ago? Did he forget to pay his tab?"
Quentin bends over and puts his hands on his knees. "No ... apologies ... necessary," he says to Celebrindal between breaths. "You're quite fast... you couldn't have done any more." "You too," he says to Faolan, and he now gets a better look at the kitsune. "Are those... feathers on your hand?" he asks with a note of curiosity. He stands upright, a frown now twisting his scarred cheek and lip. "As for the bandits... I don't know. If we wait too long, they might relocate and we'll never find them again. Let's see if good old Barnky or someone else inside the tavern knows who our fast friend was! If we get a name, we could learn more about the bandits."
Quentin sees the rider heading for the northern road and he knows he can't catch him on foot.
As Quentin runs toward the fence, he concentrates on the pull of gravity, envisioning it as a fist that has him in its grasp. And then... the hand's grip relaxes. And he jumps.
"Yes!" says Quentin. He looks at Selim and Bjorkus. "There's a man trying to warn the bandits!" He dashes off after Celebrindal and their quarry.
"I'm willing," says Kroft to Selim. "I'm new in town and don't know these woods well, but I'm good at spotting trouble. I'll join you and - Bjorkus, was it? - and whoever else wants to pitch in." He fixes his gray eyes on Selim. "Sorry, didn't catch your name. Was too busy with my mead, which is surprisingly average. I expected much worse. You good with a blade? Or a caster?"
"Generally, yes," chimes in Quentin, who hands one of the new tankards to Faolan. "And better still, as Barnky just said, there's a reward for capturing them." He takes a sip from his own tankard. "Civic duty and a tidy profit make for an ideal combination." _____________
Quentin had been sitting at the end of the bar, quietly nursing a tankard of mead, for the past couple of hours. Since arriving in town the previous night, he hadn't found much success in gathering new business or in finding the starting point for the intriguing map he'd acquired. He had spent much of the past day learning as much as he could about Endholm: its main watering holes, today's big rumors, etc. Ideally, he could use that information tomorrow. But now, seeing this unusual gathering at the other end of the bar -- with a minotaur, no less! -- he wonders if his timetable might have just moved up. Picking up his mead, he walks over, just in time to hear the man with slightly luminous eyes say something to a red-haired young fellow about getting a room from Barnky. "That's true," he says. "Barnky has good answers for most things. Speaking of which... Barnky! Answer me why my tankard is suddenly empty." He places the empty tankard on the bar. "And while you're at it, get these folks another round. My treat." Those at the bar see a human male with short blonde, nearly white, hair and pale gray eyes. A deep scar runs across his right cheek and into his upper lip, but the fine quality of his black tunic and trousers suggests that he's something other than a ruffian. A tattoo of a beautiful woman with snakelike skin adorns the right side of his neck. "Don't mean to interrupt," he continues, "but you are some of the more interesting-looking people I've seen here since I arrived... not counting you, of course, Barnky. And that deserves a drink." He takes the newly filled tankard of mead and salutes the group with it. "The name is Kroft. Quentin Kroft. If any of you intend to go looking for something while you're here, I've got the skills to help you."
Let's go with the recent arrival option.
Excellent! Thanks. |