"I do not know what kind of beast did this," says the farmer, as he leads you a half mile across a nearby field. "I think one of the cows is sick or wounded. It was lying on its side, but still moving and making some kind of noise. And not a normal sound for a cow, neither."
I relax my grip on my sling. It doesn't sound like there's an immediate attack after all. What about the wounded cow? Wounded animals can make all kinds of noises, and if they were attacked, there would certainly be wounds.
Gengar looks at Mitnal's hand full of coins for a moment and then laughs. "I've got it this time, my friend." The dwarf hands the odiferous merchant 4 coppers. "You can pick up my next snack! Let's go see what's going on up by tha' new fancy church. Maybe some of the new comers need help carrying their wares or what naught."
Gengar holds a piece of fish up for the bird. "You know, yo' pet is really something. Where did you get him?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Jessa's hand subconciously reached into her spell component pouch, her fingers tightening into a fist around a miniature archer's target. Before she realized it, the soft words to a spell tumbled from her lips as she followed after Torrick.
Vey is too self absorbed to notice your spellcasting.
Once she finished the spell, she called out to him. "Wait. Vorrick. Don't leave like that." She relaxed her cloak just enough to show off the charms presented by her corset-vest and draw his attention again when he turned around.
"I guess... I mean you... You shouldn't go without a proper goodbye. You and the Society have already offered me so much."
She continued to close the distance between them until within arm's reach. And then her demeanor hardened once again. "But apparently someone forgot to teach you some manners. So here's lesson number one..."
She then launched a vicious punch straight for his face.
Jessa's punch lands solidly on Torrick's left eye, sending him crashing to the ground.
As he lies in the mud of the town square, cradling his bruised face, his expression of shock and amazement turns to one of seething rage. Wordlessly he rises, towering over Jessa for a moment, as if to return her attack. Before anyone can say anything, however, he turns and storms off in the direction of the inn.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"I do not know what kind of beast did this," says the farmer, as he leads you a half mile across a nearby field. "I think one of the cows is sick or wounded. It was lying on its side, but still moving and making some kind of noise. And not a normal sound for a cow, neither."I relax my grip on my sling. It doesn't sound like there's an immediate attack after all. What about the wounded cow? Wounded animals can make all kinds of noises, and if they were attacked, there would certainly be wounds.
The farmer leads you across his field to the top of a small hill and points to a large oak at the bottom.
"They's down there. Under the tree. They like to hang out there in the shade during the day, but they din't come when rang the bell for morning feeding. I thought they was just being lazy when I saw 'em still under the tree, but when I got close, I saw the blood, and smelled the smell, and I just knew they was dead. That's when one of 'em moved and made that sound. Like a snarl or something. I think it's having trouble breathing. Normally I don't fret this much over blood or a dead cow, but something's not right down there."
He seems reluctant to go any further.
"Well...I guess there's no turning back now," Jessa muttered.
She returned to Kinmorn and Shantare, examining her hand. One of her knuckles was scraped and bleeding. And her entire fist throbbed from the force of the impact she'd made with Torrick's face. She held it up with a rueful expression.
"Can't say I did myself any favors with that. I'll probably suffer more than he does in the end. But sometimes a girl has to stick up for what's right."
As Torrick appears about to threaten Jessa, Kinmorn takes a step forward, muscles tense. He visibly relaxes when the other decides to leave well enough alone
Somewhat bemused, Kinmorn says to Jessa "Your acquaintance is obviously a man more possessed of ego than eye. He cannot discern between the Bow of Erastil and the Butterfly of Desna nor does he seem to know how to talk properly to a lady."
"That was a pretty punch, but I would caution you that the sherriff dislikes rough play in his town."
"But sometimes a girl has to stick up for what's right."
"She certainly must. And I hope your stay in our fair town is more pleasant from here on out."
Somewhat bemused, Kinmorn says to Jessa "Your acquaintance is obviously a man more possessed of ego than eye. He cannot discern between the Bow of Erastil and the Butterfly of Desna nor does he seem to know how to talk properly to a lady."
"That was a pretty punch, but I would caution you that the sherriff dislikes rough play in his town."
"Does he dislike rough words spoken to a lady, too?" Jessa retorted, then caught herself.
"Sorry. I don't mean to snap at you. Rest assured, he had it coming. Not just for that, but...another incident...that occured on the caravan from Magnimar." She repressed a shudder as she recalled Torrick's advances when they'd been alone. "You're right, though. He does have an ego stronger than his eyes. But that's because his eyes are always on...other things. And sometimes it's not just his eyes."
"But enough about Torrick," Jessa said, intent on changing the subject, "You're a priest of Erastil then? The god of farms and the countryside? I have to admit, my studies haven't focused much on religious history or doctrine. And I've lived most of my life traveling from one big city to another. But it seems Sandpoint has built itself a fine new cathedral. It's easily as nice as any other I've seen before. You must be excited?"
Gengar looks at Mitnal's hand full of coins for a moment and then laughs. "I've got it this time, my friend." The dwarf hands the odiferous merchant 4 coppers. "You can pick up my next snack! Let's go see what's going on up by tha' new fancy church. Maybe some of the new comers need help carrying their wares or what naught."
Mitnal puts his coins back in his pouch a little embarrassed. He assumes the dwarf's laughter is not at his expense but isn't quite sure.
"Carrying bags, unpacking caravans ... I've unloaded boats in Galduria and Wolf's Ear. Better exercise and better pay than selling baskets," Mitnal says. "Let's see what we can find."
Gengar holds a piece of fish up for the bird. "You know, yo' pet is really something. Where did you get him?"
"Pet?" Mitnal asks puzzled. Then, seeing Gengar offer some fish to the magnificent black bird realizes what was meant. Quietly, he says to the dwarf "This is a raven. I'm not sure why he has come but please be respectful."
"I'm very excited," replies Kinmorn, "It is a grand time for Sandpoint. The Swallowtail festival in two day's time should be a joyous celebration. As to your other question, yes, I was appointed a priest of Erastil a year ago. He is as you say the god of farming and and the countryside. Also of hunting. But perhaps most importantly, he is the defender of the home and the family. And cities are just as much in need of strong homes as the country. Are they not?"
Then with a smile, Kinmorn quickly changes subjects, "You mention your studies. So are you a student then? Of what subject? And I did not yet get introduced to your friend."
"And cities are just as much in need of strong homes as the country. Are they not?"
"They are...but in Magnimar, we have Abadar's clergy for that, I guess," Jessa replied.
Then with a smile, Kinmorn quickly changes subjects, "You mention your studies. So are you a student then? Of what subject? And I did not yet get introduced to your friend."
Jessa glanced at Shantare. "She seems a woman of few words. I don't know her name yet either, I'm afraid."
"But I am a student. Of everything really. History, distant lands, architecture, government...and, um...divinations."
"Looks like I'll have to go take a look. Might be whatever attacked them is still down there." Ruano dismounts, readying his gear. The sling is returned to his pocket, and the bullet to its pouch. His quarterstaff (all 4 feet of it) is unlimbered. "Spot, stay behind me.", he orders, then begins creeping toward the oak.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Looks like I'll have to go take a look. Might be whatever attacked them is still down there." Ruano dismounts, readying his gear. The sling is returned to his pocket, and the bullet to its pouch. His quarterstaff (all 4 feet of it) is unlimbered. "Spot, stay behind me.", he orders, then begins creeping toward the oak.
As Ruano and Spot approach the tree, something feels... off. By the time you are close enough to get a good view of the cattle carcasses under the tree, the smell of blood and death is unmistakable.
Although Ruano can see the four corpses, it is still difficult to make out details. Perhaps it is just the brightness of the day, but the shade under the tree seems darker, somehow, than the boughs should allow. Just as Ruano thinks the farmer must have been imagining it, one of the four cows moves, it's side rising and falling in an uneven pattern. The cow emits strange, wet, raspy sounds, not normal for a cow.
Ruano looks back up the rise for the farmer, but the farmer is gone.
Further detail:
Despite the dark of the shade, all of the cows have horrible wounds and gashes on their bodies, and are covered in blood. Even the one that appears to be breathing bears great gashes on its neck. That it still breathes is wondrous strange.
Ruano peers into the shade. It's alive, but those sounds aren't right. Getting too much closer might be a bad idea, but it's dark over there.
Ruano retrieves that sling bullet, then pulls a green branch from another pocket, muttering in Druidic. <Light of the sun, embers of fire, empower this humble stone>.
He tosses the now-glowing bullet underhand under the tree. It may be dim compared to the sun, but it might help him see.
He tosses the now-glowing bullet underhand under the tree. It may be dim compared to the sun, but it might help him see.
The radiant stone thumps into the dirt among the cows, revealing the full extent of the carnage. Something horrible happened under this tree.
Knowledge (nature) check result 10+:
Heal check result 15+:
That sound isn't right. Almost like something is still under (or inside?) the cow and eating its way out. Nothing natural does that. Nothing that large, anyway. "What do you think, Spot? Hey, where'd that human go? Sir? Sir!?"
As jessa landed a punch of Torrick's face, Shantare looked on with approval, glad she has finally met a girl who can stand up for herself.
"But I am a student. Of everything really. History, distant lands, architecture, government...and, um...divinations."
"Oh really," she says, revealing that she has been eavesdropping, "Where do you study? Does a town like this really have somewhere to learn things like that?" After a while of just ignoring the conversation, Shantare seems suddenly very interested.
"Oh really," she says, revealing that she has been eavesdropping, "Where do you study? Does a town like this really have somewhere to learn things like that?" After a while of just ignoring the conversation, Shantare seems suddenly very interested.
"There's the Turandarok Academy," replies Kinmorn to the as yet unintroduced woman, "Master Gandethus is quite a scholar, he tried to pound magical theories into my brain but I was a little slow to pick it up. And we have a few other scholars in town, though probably nothing up to the standards either of you are accustomed to. I am delighted to find two so interested in expanding their knowledge of the world."
"Say, can I excort the two of you someplace? Or do you know your way around town?"
Gengar looks at Mitnal's hand full of coins for a moment and then laughs. "I've got it this time, my friend." The dwarf hands the odiferous merchant 4 coppers. "You can pick up my next snack! Let's go see what's going on up by tha' new fancy church. Maybe some of the new comers need help carrying their wares or what naught."
Mitnal puts his coins back in his pouch a little embarrassed. He assumes the dwarf's laughter is not at his expense but isn't quite sure.
"Carrying bags, unpacking caravans ... I've unloaded boats in Galduria and Wolf's Ear. Better exercise and better pay than selling baskets," Mitnal says. "Let's see what we can find."
Gengar holds a piece of fish up for the bird. "You know, yo' pet is really something. Where did you get him?"
"Pet?" Mitnal asks puzzled. Then, seeing Gengar offer some fish to the magnificent black bird realizes what was meant. Quietly, he says to the dwarf "This is a raven. I'm not sure why he has come but please be respectful."
Mitnal and Gengar begin to stroll toward the downtown while snacking on their roasted fish. Although the baskets are awkward, they are not particularly heavy. Mitnal keeps an eye out for anything that looks like honest work ... Honest work, for Mitnal, generally means heavy lifting.
"Oh really," she says, revealing that she has been eavesdropping, "Where do you study? Does a town like this really have somewhere to learn things like that?" After a while of just ignoring the conversation, Shantare seems suddenly very interested.
"In Magnimar, mostly. With my parents or their acquaintances. And I'm self-taught in some things," Jessa explained, "My mother works at the Museum of Ages. And there's the Great Library available. And some of the crafters down at the Golemworks. And the resources at the Pathfinder chapterhouse..."
Jessa's voice trailed away as she realized she'd started to ramble on.
"There's the Turandarok Academy," replies Kinmorn to the as yet unintroduced woman, "Master Gandethus is quite a scholar, he tried to pound magical theories into my brain but I was a little slow to pick it up. And we have a few other scholars in town, though probably nothing up to the standards either of you are accustomed to. I am delighted to find two so interested in expanding their knowledge of the world."
"Say, can I excort the two of you someplace? Or do you know your way around town?"
"Actually, we were both hoping to find an inn," Jessa explained, "Though it should be someplace other than the White Deer, if I'm to avoid making another scene with Torrick."
She gestured towards Shantare, "I believe she's staying for the Swallowtail Festival. But I intend to make a home here in Sandpoint for at least the next several months. I've come to study the ancient ruins and monuments of Thassilon. And I'll need a base of operations for whatever excusions I might make along the coast or into the countryside. Could you recommend or guide us to an inn or boarding house that isn't too expensive?"
Gengar holds a piece of fish up for the bird. "You know, yo' pet is really something. Where did you get him?"
Blackwing fluttered past the dwarf and snapped the fish away from his hand before landing nearby to devour it. 'Pet?!' the raven thought, 'Hardly!' He tried to glare with a somewhat baleful expression at Gengar, but failed to maintain it very long...as the smoked fish continued to call out to him.
"Pet?" Mitnal asks puzzled. Then, seeing Gengar offer some fish to the magnificent black bird realizes what was meant. Quietly, he says to the dwarf "This is a raven. I'm not sure why he has come but please be respectful."
Blackwing's head lifted again from the morsel of fish. He bobbed it up and down and squawked in agreement. He was starting to like this overly large human. Perhaps he should introduce him to Jessa?
Mitnal and Gengar begin to stroll toward the downtown while snacking on their roasted fish. Although the baskets are awkward, they are not particularly heavy. Mitnal keeps an eye out for anything that looks like honest work ... Honest work, for Mitnal, generally means heavy lifting.
Rather than fly overhead or hop along the ground after them, Blackwing flapped his wings just enough to seat himself again inside one of the baskets carried by Mitnal. The regal bird then proceeded to survey all of Sandpoint as if he owned the town and the barbarian was merely his servant. Occasionaly the raven's head would peer just over the edge on either side of the basket as he shuffled about to view one side of the street versus another. And he squawked at anything that looked shiny or interesting.
"Well you only really have a choice between two inns I am afraid. And since you seem to have good reason to avoid the White Deer, let me lead you to the Rusty Dragon."
Kinmorn points down the road towards the lower part of town.
"Its this way. I need to stop by Savah's Armory today, its that building over there on the right. But I can put that off until I make my way back I suppose. If you ladies will follow me."
Then without further ado, Kinmorn leads the way down to the Rusty Dragon, talking as he did so,
"So you say you are a member of the Pathfinder's. Are you here to study the Old Light? Our resident expert on the Old Light is Brodert Quink. He lives down Tower Street, right up next to the Old Light, but he's a bit irritable at times and I don't know him that well. We're going to want High Street though, going the other way, and then we'll turn onto Festival..."
"Well you only really have a choice between two inns I am afraid. And since you seem to have good reason to avoid the White Deer, let me lead you to the Rusty Dragon."
"That doesn't sound like much of an upgrade...going from a White Deer to a Rusty Dragon," Jessa says with a half-smile, "I hope at least the food's good."
Then without further ado, Kinmorn leads the way down to the Rusty Dragon, talking as he did so, "So you say you are a member of the Pathfinders. Are you here to study the Old Light? Our resident expert on the Old Light is Brodert Quink. He lives down Tower Street, right up next to the Old Light, but he's a bit irritable at times and I don't know him that well. We're going to want High Street though, going the other way, and then we'll turn onto Festival..."
"Yes, I'm a Pathfinder. Have you heard of them? I hadn't really selected any specific ruins or monuments for study just yet. Part of my purpose here is simply to explore and discover. And seeing as how I haven't heard of the Old Light, perhaps it would prove worthwhile to see this Quink man..."
Blackwing fluttered past the dwarf and snapped the fish away from his hand before landing nearby to devour it. 'Pet?!' the raven thought, 'Hardly!' He tried to glare with a somewhat baleful expression at Gengar, but failed to maintain it very long...as the smoked fish continued to call out to him.
"Well dull my axe!" Gengar says with genuine surprise. "I ne'er meant any disrespect. All I know is stone and bark!"
"Pet?" Mitnal asks puzzled. Then, seeing Gengar offer some fish to the magnificent black bird realizes what was meant. Quietly, he says to the dwarf "This is a raven. I'm not sure why he has come but please be respectful."
"Aye, keep me on the straight and narrow my friend." Gengar laughs again and begins to whistle randomly. All the while the dwarf keeps an eye out for any loose coin purses...
DM:
"And seeing as how I haven't heard of the Old Light, perhaps it would prove worthwhile to see this Quink man..."
Kinmorn laughs. "Living here you assume everyone has heard of the Old Light. Its that pile of rocks towering just over the houses near the shore cliff. It rises all the way from the ocean floor. As kids we used to try and climb it. Would get yelled at for our efforts we would. It's a powerful long fall in places."
"Living here you assume everyone has heard of the Old Light. It's that pile of rocks towering just over the houses near the shore cliff. It rises all the way from the ocean floor. As kids we used to try and climb it. Would get yelled at for our efforts we would. It's a powerful long fall in places."
"Sounds fascinating," Jessa replied, genuinely interested, "Have you been there? Are there any significant Thassilonian markings or artifacts lying around? I'd love to acquire one and sketch an image of the site in my journal, if possible."
"It's just a pile of rocks now, I think. I used to imagine it was hollow but there are no doors or anything like that. No Thassilonian markings that I am aware of. But there used to be some Varisian runes in the area. History isn't really my strong suit I'm afraid. Mister Quink is the best one to ask, if you can catch him in a good mood."
Turandarok Academy, Shantare thinks, I wonder if that is a possibility. She makes a mental note to find out more about it.
She willingly goes with the Jessa and Kinmorn, discreetly listening in on their conversation while pretending to be looking at the merchants.
As they are passing the theatre and approaching the market square, Kinmorn asks, "Do either of you need anything from the market? The Rusty Dragon is past the market as you go towards the bridge into town."
"Do either of you need anything from the market? The Rusty Dragon is past the market as you go towards the bridge into town."
"We passed through there on our way to the cathedral, I believe," Jessa notes, "And I'll probably visit there again tomorrow. But I don't really have much traveling money left at the moment. Eventually, though, I'll still need to identify the local shops and vendors who can suppy me with parchment, inks, and various components for my research. Perhaps I can find a place to open my own business to make ends meet during my stay in Sandpoint, too."
She smiles at Kinmorn as they continue walking. "You know, I really appreciate you taking the time to tell us so much about the town. You're like our own personal guide. Have you lived here your whole life?"
As they are passing the theatre and approaching the market square, Kinmorn asks, "Do either of you need anything from the market? The Rusty Dragon is past the market as you go towards the bridge into town."
Kinmorn, as you, Jessa and Shantare make your way down Festival street toward the market, you catch sight of pair of familiar faces among the crowd -- the young dwarf and the Shoanti basketweaver. This is the first time you've seen them together, seem to be getting along quite well. The basketweaver is carrying a large stack of his ware, and the is happily nibbling at a piece of smoked fish on a stick while people watching. You're not certain if either man has noticed, but a large, black bird has roosted in the top basket of the Shoanti's load. Then, as you watch, the dwarf tosses a piece of smoked fish into the air, which the bird snatches in mid arc, without having to adjust its position overmuch. You're amazed at the accuracy of the dwarf's throw, considering he seems to be paying attention to something over by the theater.
Jessa, Blackwing seems to have made a nest for himself in a large pile of baskets being carried by a young Shoanti man. You never would have noticed, if a nearby dwarf hadn't tossed the raven some morsel of food.
Gengar, you catch sight of a perfect mark over by the theater. You're almost certain he's not from town, and he seem to be insistent on being ostentatious with his money, trying to make a large donation to Cyrdak's theater. Cyrdak is, of course, politely refusing, which he will almost certainly do at least twice more before politely accepting.
Jessa, Blackwing seems to have made a nest for himself in a large pile of baskets being carried by a young Shoanti man. You never would have noticed, if a nearby dwarf hadn't tossed the raven some morsel of food.
Jessa comes to an immediate stop, her mouth falling open in surprise. "I don't believe it. That scoundrel..." she mutters aloud.
She glances apologetically to Kinmorn and Shantare. "Excuse me, please," she says to them, "Is it alright if we take a small detour into the market after all? There's someone up ahead that needs a stern talking to...a companion of mine."
She sets off once again, her path purposefully intersecting with that of Mitnal and Gengar.
She sets off once again, her path purposefully intersecting with that of Mitnal and Gengar.
Shantare shruggs, and deciding she has nothing else to do, follows Jessa. This girl seems to know everyone in this town. She thinks with some envy.
As they approach the dwarf and his companion, Kinmorn waves in a friendly fashion, wondering which of the two is the one in need of a dressing down.
Jessa stops about ten feet away from the trio of Mitnal, Gengar, and Blackwing. Placing both hands on her hips, she calls out in a scolding tone, "What are you doing? Didn't I tell you to stay out of trouble?" To anyone observing, it would seem she's addressing the barbarian and the dwarf.
Blackwing himself sheepishly ducks his head below the edge of the basket to avoid his mistress' wrath.
"Don't you hide from me!" Jessa continues, "Get over her now, you scoundrel. What game are you playing this time?"
All the while the dwarf keeps an eye out for any loose coin purses...
"Don't you hide from me!" Jessa continues, "Get over her now, you scoundrel. What game are you playing this time?"
Mitnal nudges the dwarf, assuming she is addressing him, and asks "Do you know her?"
"Mitnal, Gengar" says Kinmorn, stepping forward a little puzzled, "What have you done to earn the ire of this poor woman, newly arrived as she is?"
"Mitnal, Gengar" says Kinmorn, stepping forward a little puzzled, "What have you done to earn the ire of this poor woman, newly arrived as she is?"
"Who?" Jessa looks puzzled for a moment, then...
"OH!" Her expression changes to one of complete embarrassment, which she nervously tries to laugh away. "I am so sorry. Not them. There. I was talking to Blackwing." She points toward the baskets.
The raven pokes its head above the rim once more and gives a subdued squawk.
Mitnal remains silent, embarrassed, sure that he has done something but having no idea what it was.
Jessa stops about ten feet away from the trio of Mitnal, Gengar, and Blackwing. Placing both hands on her hips, she calls out in a scolding tone, "What are you doing? Didn't I tell you to stay out of trouble?" To anyone observing, it would seem she's addressing the barbarian and the dwarf.
Blackwing himself sheepishly ducks his head below the edge of the basket to avoid his mistress' wrath.
"Don't you hide from me!" Jessa continues, "Get over her now, you scoundrel. What game are you playing this time?"
"Scoundrel?!? I assure you ma'am I ne'er seen you before in my life." Gengar looks to Mitnal and then to the young priest. "Honest...".
With a guilty conscience the dwarf desperately searches his memory for the lady but turns up nothing.
"Scoundrel?!? I assure you ma'am I ne'er seen you before in my life." Gengar looks to Mitnal and then to the young priest. "Honest...". With a guilty conscience the dwarf desperately searches his memory for the lady but turns up nothing.
"I'm sorry for the confusion," Jessa replies, "But that's my bird up there. His name is Blackwing. I apologize if he did anything to take advantage of your kindness...like begging for your food. I'm afraid that's a bad trait he picked up somewhere. That's why I call him a scoundrel. Always snatching things up that don't belong to him. Or tricking others into giving him stuff."
She calls out once more, in an even-tempered voice this time, "Blackwing? You know I know you're in there. Come down here, please."
The raven hops to the top of the basket then lifts himself into the air and glides down to Jessa to perch on her shoulder. "I said you could go exploring," she chides him, "And I specifically said not to stir up any trouble."
"Sorry..." Blackwing lowers his head and snaps his beak, "Hungry."
"Yes, well...we were about to find an inn and you know there would be plenty to eat there," she explains, "You don't need to ask others for more all the time."
Kinmorn eyes the bird speculatively and then looks for a moment at Jessa. He opens his mouth as if about to say something and then wisely shuts it again.
"So," says Kinmorn a heartbeat later, addressing the basket-weaver and diplomatically trying to redirect conversation, "How is the basket selling business? Were you two going anyplace in particular? These ladies are new in town and I was escorting them to the Rusty Dragon.”
"I'm sorry for the confusion," Jessa replies, "But that's my bird up there. His name is Blackwing. I apologize if he did anything to take advantage of your kindness...like begging for your food. I'm afraid that's a bad trait he picked up somewhere. That's why I call him a scoundrel. Always snatching things up that don't belong to him. Or tricking others into giving him stuff."
"Your bird ... ?" says Mitnal, but then thinks better of it. The Raven is a trickster totem, he thinks, though his tricks usually teach important lessons; perhaps this woman was one of his pupils. Mitnal gives the bird a conspiratorial wink as he resolves not to interfere with whatever the Raven is intending to teach the young woman.
Nevertheless, since the Raven did bring him together, surely their meeting was part of this lesson. "I am Mitnal the basketweaver, son of the Shriikirri-Quah, what you would call the Hawk Clan. The Raven ... 'your bird' ... has been visiting with us. Perhaps he thought you might need some help."
Kinmorn eyes the bird speculatively and then looks for a moment at Jessa. He opens his mouth as if about to say something and then wisely shuts it again.
"So," says Kinmorn a heartbeat later, addressing the basket-weaver and diplomatically trying to redirect conversation, "How is the basket selling business? Were you two going anyplace in particular? These ladies are new in town and I was escorting them to the Rusty Dragon.”
"Many people are coming into town for the festival. I have sold a few baskets but hope to sell a few more. If you permit, I will go with you to the Rusty Dragon," Mitnal said. Smiling at the chance to lighten the mood he adds "The Shoanti have a saying: 'Many adventures begin in a tavern'."
"The Shoanti have a saying: 'Many adventures begin in a tavern'."
"I've heard that one," says Kinmorn as he begins slowly walking once more towards the Rusty Dragon. "Shall we see what Ameiko is cooking today then? Seeing as how the bird is hungry?"