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"I see you are also members of the militia" Szaranoth says, pointing to the small banderoles Calliope and theruska sport on their lapels, as the two newcomers enter the house. "Come on in, we need every help we can get after the turmoil of yesterday's festivities. The goblin attack and the murder are bringing the people of this town down. We need to do everything we can, to keep the spirit up. Upstairs. Follow me." With that Szaranoth ascends the stairs following the solemn dwarf.
After a short while Szaranoth gets impatient. "Grael? Targ? Follow me. This woman has obviously lost her voice." Szaranoth enters the building. Inside of the building, Szaranoth stops and waits for the others to arrive. "Grael, what did your vision show you? Shall we go up to the roof, down into the cellar or try to find them here on the ground floor?"
"Please, madam, tell us in short words, what has happened."
"If it is connected, Grael, then it is definitely a job for us." Szaranoth goes to the crowd, trying to join Targ as he apporaches the people in front of the house. "Can we help?"
Szaranoth stops as Grael's heavy breathing and ominous words reach his ear. "You mean, this crowd is worthy to investigate? Do have any notion about what happened, Grael?"
Szaranoth goes after Targ who follows the footprints of the goblins.
"Nothing suspicious, but perhaps as new to the town as we were."
Szaranoth whispers to Targ pointing to the large figure watching them, "Who's that mountain? He following us?" Szaranoth is of medium height (just a little tad on the high side...) with a powerful build and never without a warm and quick smile. Close cropped black hair, green eyes, fine-lined moustache frame his square features. His clothes look a bit washed out, though.
Szaranoth follows the dwarf outside to help him with his search. "I did not tell everything up above. I was suspicious about this Marc, because I did not see him yesterday in the tavern. Libay also talked about an ancient empire called Thassilon. Perhaps that has a connection to those Runelords, Grael was talking about."
"Yes, I have spoken with him yesterday, twice. His purse was stolen from him yesterday during the festival and I later brought him the news about our failure to recover the stolen property in the evening. It is also clear from the way the books are lying around that someone searched the room quiet throughly and probably found what he was looking for." Szaranoth looks at Mark. Was he in the barroom yesterday evening?
"Sure, let's go there. I can't eat a thing anyway."
"Blood in the White Deer? Damn." Szaranoth keeps his voice down. "I have a suspicion about that." He stands up and walks painfully slow over to the guys that just came in. "Excuse me, we are deputies of the sheriff and i couldn't help to overhear that there might have been a crime somehwere in the town. Can you give us... " and Szaranoth shows them the table of the group sitting there "...a quick lowdown about what happened? No need to sit down, if you don't want to."
"Not so loud, my friend. And the light still hurts my eyes."
The waves are still rolling through his head as he woke. The bed was spinning, was the last day a dream? It seems like. Then the headaches set in. And his stomach begins to roll. Seasickness, aye. I am still on board of the Albatross. Who were these women I dreamt about? The human one and the one with the long ears. It has been too long since Magnimar. But his dream was so vivid and he bould still recall so much. And it was not fading, but the headache did not fade, either.
"Grael, sometimes you need something to relief yourself from the danger of facing death. You did good today, enjoy the music and meal." Then he looks to Shalelu. "Targ, thanks for keeping her at our table." He makes a small bow to the ranger. "I must apologize for not being able to join your discussions about those goblins, but I am more inclined to let the experts talk and then point me to where I am needed. And I had a visit to make, that I had promised earlier in the day to a man, who was the victim of a petty theft. May I ask for a dance? As the others kept you for the whole time and I was not able to present myself due to my absence."
Szaranoth enters the Rusty Dragon as Ingovil is dancing with Aldern Foxglove. His face clouds over for the smallest of moments, then he rejoins the others. "Targ, Etellio, Grael. There you are. What's this party all about?"
Radavel:
Spoiler: After finishing the second glass of this excellent vintage, Szaranoth recorks the bottle and says to the waiter: "Mr Libay will finish the bottle next time." The he will leave the establishment and make his way back to the Rusty Dragon.
I am again waiting for your answer, Radavel.
Radavel:
Spoiler: Szaranoth is a tad confused of the behaviour of his host and looks about. Spot (1d20+1=14) Then he takes another sip from the wine and drinks a second glass taking in the surroundings (and also watching everyone here in the room).
Radavel: Spoiler: Szaranoth sips his wine waiting for an answer from Heinrich Libay.
Radavel:
Spoiler: "That sure sounds interesting beyond belief, but I will trust your research. What kind of spell do you want this wizard to cast? I do not know of a wizard here, since I came to this town only yesterday, but I can certainly try to inconspicously ask the sheriff or other locals, and a colleague of myself is a bit versed in the arcane arts."
Radavel:
Spoiler: "What is this Thassilon about?"
hmm... I think more wine and good brandy... but an ale to quench the thirst is also nice
Radavel:
Spoiler: "Go ahead. It needs to step in line with my dreams and nightmares about dragons and falling through the air, drowning in the sea and spitting acid."
Radavel:
Spoiler: "That's some ancient myth, right?"
Radavel
Spoiler: "What can you tell me about 'Them'? Who are 'They'? And what are 'They' trying to do?"
Radavel:
Spoiler: "Thank you, and to yours." Szaranoth nods to Libay as they toast each other. The wine is indeed excellent. Szaranoth can't help himself to smack his lips upon tasting such a fine beverage. "As to the other question, that came up on the markte, Mister Libay." His voice drops a noticable nodge. "Is it safe here to talk?"
Radavel:
Spoiler: Szaranoth looks a bit proud as Heinrich Libay mentions the heroics of the afternoon. "Well, we did manage to stem back the tide. We saved many people, but we also lost many to those pesky critters, that attacked our town. But we are doing our best to get behind the source of all this. More I cannot say." As the bottle arrives, both pause for the waiter to open the bottle and fill their glasses. As he leaves the table, Szaranoth opens the discussion again. "As for your purse, alas, I regret to inform you, that one member of the gang was able to escape with magical means. He or she cast Spider Climb to scale the wall of the shop from the alley where they had set up their hideout. One member of the Varisians was killed, the others are now in custody. But your purse was already taken to another place by a member of the band, that we were not able to see. Only tracks up the wall gave us an indication of where to look. Sorry about your loss, Mister Libay, but that was all we were able to do."
Spoiler: "I have an appointment with Mister Libay, if you don't mind. And if you do, like you are looking at me, yes, I don't like it either, how I am treated here."
Spoiler: Szaranoth looks around the barroom of the luxurious inn trying to spot Heinrich Libay.
Szaranoth walks through the town tinted in the colors of the dusk to the building of the White Deer Inn. The inn is three stories high, the ground floor made of stone and the upper floors of wood, and looks fairly new. A pair of life-sized white deer, carved from white birch, frame the entrance to the house. That's what I call style. Szaranoth thinks to himself and enters the building.
Szaranoth waves a goodbye to the others as he makes his way to another place in the town. "I'll join you later." Radavel: Spoiler: Szaranoth walks over to the White Deer to meet with Heinrich Libay
"I am also looking forward for a nice quiet evening. I will join you all later in the Rusty Dragon for some nice food and beverages. I just need to swing my feet a bit to shed some of the adrenaline of the day."
"That might also depend on the amount of ale yer quaffing, eh?" adds Szaranoth sheepishly, while sipping on his own mug. "But kidding aside. Our duty is to the people of Sandpoint. I would suggest investigating the tribes in the surroundings after the town has been secured and another attack from goblins is highly unlikely. I am still not sure, if the danger from them has passed completely."
"Miladies." Szaranoth makes a bow before the two women, he knows the mayor from the evening before, but the other he has not seen before. "We were just doing our duty, but it fills our hearts with pride and sadness. Pride, by being able to help Sandpoint, and sadness, that so many were injured or even killed today. But we will try to help wherever we can, especially if it concerns goblins. Right, Targ?."
"Grael, Ingowil, are ye coming with us?"
Szaranoth stops his search at the bottom of the wall, and takes the ladder Etellio hands down and puts it down next to the wall. "Let's go." Then he follows Etellio to the office of the sheriff.
"Perhaps they sat on the top of the wall, while pulling up the ladder from here and putting it down on the other side to climb down again." Szaranoth looks at the ground near the wall, if there are dents in the earth from the ladder standing inside the graveyard.
Szaranoth walks over to Etellio. "What can I do for you?" he asks the man sitting upon the top of the wall.
"I have no clue what went on here. Why would goblins do that? They showed no real planning during their rais on the town earlier." Szaranoth adds into the mix. But he is perplexed by Targ's action. This is weird. Very weird.
Szaranoth follows out into the gloom of dusk falling over the graveyard.
"We shall try for utmost discretion, sir." Szaranoth adds as they leave the room.
"This is breaking a taboo. That's beyond nasty. Let's hope we'll find something."
"We need to be sure, that those pesky goblins won't disturb us again. Healing the wounded, tending the dying and mourning the dead can be done better, when we are all safe. And we are not safe while goblins can attack at will. So our next step should be to find out, how this many critters have gotten into the town with us not noticing anything."
"We have failed. We were too late to stop them. Bethana will kill us for it."
"My dear Sir, we would very well like to join you, but now is not the best of times. Other citizens are still in danger, and until we are sure, that the danger has passed, we cannot let out vigilance drop by one iota. By the way, Szaranoth is my name. Can we continue this conversation later perhaps?"
Initiative (without aura) (1d20 1=4) Still jaded from killling the goblins Szaranoth stumbles along with the others, his mind still in a loop repeating the killing moment time and time again. As he sees the other's charging again into combat he, he sighs deeply and hefts his morningstar again. The killing is not at an end today. He charges into combat.
Szaranoth charges one of the front sides of the diamond.
"What? no, not him..." Szaranoth storms blindly with his morninstar held high into the goblin mob. "SOUJIIROOOO!!!!" Initiative; Attack (Charge); Damage (1d20+1=4, 1d20+6=17, 1d8+3=7) |
