Mal looks up from his breakfast as Vesh comes down the stairs. "How are you this morning? Come on, get some breakfast. Ameiko really is a fine cook."Vesh smiles. "Good afternoon." he replies, "It's Wealday...still."
Perhaps it's more difficult to quietly leave the Dragon than I thought! He thinks as he pulls up a chair next to the rogue. He plops his pack on a chair next to him. "I've already eaten breakfast this afternoon. Slidell has eaten two."
He accepts another mug of tea from Bethana, happy to have the rogue's company. "I've just left him examining the items that we took from the dungeon last night...or this morning," says Vesh discretely. "I think he'll do just fine without my help."
Vesh takes yet another warm roll and start to chew and speak simultaneously. "What shall we do? Salome was off to pray and rest. Zieke to report to the mayor. Slidell won't be coming down any time soon, and I have no idea where Ehlissa is." Leaning back in his chair, Vesh takes a swig of hot tea.
"What kind of trouble do you suppose we could get into?"
Mal looks surprised. "Is it now? I only just got up and I guess I lost track of time. It's been a long few days hasn't it?"
He chews thoughtfully for a moment before asking "Does it look like we got anything good from the demon's chapel?""I'm sure we'll find something." Mal says with a chuckle. "At the moment, I'm content to eat my breakfast. Like I said, I only woke up a short while ago. Just wanderering the town maybe; since it looks like we'll be here for a while, it might be best for me to get a little more familiar with the place. What about you? Any shennagins you're interested in?"
At any rate, neither chanting nonsense syllables nor filling the goblet with water produces anything other than slightly pungent water from the traces of incense remaining in the cup. But at least it is clean now.
"Does it look like we got anything good from the demon's chapel?"
Vesh shrugs. "I suppose that'll be for Slidell to determine. I've got the dollhouse furniture," he says, patting his pack.
"I'm sure we'll find something." Mal says with a chuckle. "At the moment, I'm content to eat my breakfast. Like I said, I only woke up a short while ago. Just wanderering the town maybe; since it looks like we'll be here for a while, it might be best for me to get a little more familiar with the place. What about you? Any shennagins you're interested in?"
"A couple of things," Vesh leans forward, "some things I'd like your opinion on. But, you eat your breakfast." Vesh stands.
"I'm headed down to the docks. Towards the shipyard." Vesh looks around to see if he's being watched or overheard (Perception 1d20-4=6). "You can meet me there after you're done, or I'll come back here and ask after you. We can go for a walk then."
Vesh stands and exits, taking his pack with him.
He walks to Hannah's cottage and knocks on the door.
Slidell massages his temples until the pain recedes. Then looks over the items once more, rubbing his chin. He glances out of the window at the sun.
"Wake up sleepyhead!" He chides the dozing Veran gently. "We've got to see a man about a box!"
He dumps his backpack onto the bed, then repacks it with the box, cup, and glasses all wrapped in kerchiefs. The Rod he carefully places into his vest, taking a strange comfort in it's warmth and nearness. HE adds the wrapped Imp wings into the pack, and, after serious consideration, the volume the Imp was studying. He hefts the pack and smiles.
"That's much better. Without all the camp gear and supplies, I can carry this all day!" He chortles. He gathers Veran, his hat and staff and heads out. He passes through the downstairs without noticing that Mal is there. He turns his steps towards the school, and knocks on the door. "C'mon," He mutters, "It's not even dark yet, be here. I've got questions that need answers!"
"Please come in. Are you ill?"
After you are seated, she pulls a padded stool close by and offers you a cup of hot spiced tea.
"Wait. Have we met?"
Is Katrine sick? He pauses to look at her retreating form. Not a bad view, he realizes. Ven and Shayliss had mentioned something about that man at the funeral--Banny Harker was his name--her fiancee. Trails and markers! thinks Vesh suddenly as he takes in the room, drawn curtains, and incense. She's pregnant, Vesh coughs, or was.
Vesh takes the tea, gently drops his pack on the floor, and drinks, suddenly aware of the chill that has followed him into Hannah's cottage. Vesh proceeds at a cautious pace--as he would picking a lock or unsetting a trap--not wanting to trigger Hannah's emotional defenses. Something Kimri taught me well, he muses briefly.
He nods at her second question. "We have met," he says a little quieter than normal, "and...I may be sick."
"My name is Vesh, my companions and I came to you a few days after the goblin attack on the town. We were trying to unravel a mystery that I think you knew ought t'be left alone."
He pauses for any response before proceeding.
"I should not go into details, but suffice to say that my friends and I journeyed to the source of Sandpoint's recent problems with goblins and discovered a great evil. An evil that I think we suppressed for the time being, but not before I fell under its sway briefly."
Again, he falls silent and waits.
"Have you ever heard of the Milk of Lamashtu, Hannah? Because if you have, then I need you help. I feel defiled, and I do not think Father Zantus can help me."
He looks at her earnestly.
Your knock is greeted by the nasal screech of the secretary, "Open it yourself! Do I look like a butler to you!"
Veran turns his head in time to catch Sli smile, with a glint in his eye. He stretches to his full hight, and pushes the door open wide, entering with long strides.
Letting yourself in, you are again in the cavernous lobby. Seated opposite you at an impossibly large desk is the mousy haired young woman.
"Greetings m'lady!" Slidell smiles gregariously. "How wonderful to hear your melodious voice again! I just need a moment with the headmaster. Won't be but a tic. Is he still in his office?" He says all in one breath, indicating the bookshelf with a casual wave of his hand.
She is diligently stamping away with a wax seal while making studious efforts to ignore you.
Finally, as your patience is about exhausted, she speaks again, "Do you have an appointment?"
Slidell smiles. "Not on the books, no. Actually I have several, all over town, but they're all next week. I was hoping to take care of this first. I came across an item that I thought might interest him. Was hoping he could help me place it's origin. Like I said, shouldn't be but a moment. Shall I just let myself in? I wouldn't want to interrupt your work." He asks with wide-eyed innocence.
Ehlissa carries on practicing and muses over what it means to be a 'paladin'.
"It has been a pleasure, now please get some sleep. I will send for you later."
Zieke nods and takes his leave. After departing the Town Hall, he heads to the garrison, hangs up his weapons, and strips off his armor. He then attacks his bunk for a quick nap before the Council meeting and their report to Sheriff Hemlock that night.
The big warrior awakens a couple of hours before sunset, his body and mind refreshed by a dreamless sleep. He takes some time to wash up and frowns over his well-worn clothes. Nothing seems appropriate for the Council meeting...or really anything, except a trip into the wilderness to live alongside the most uncivilized Shoanti tribes.
"I gotta upgrade to something new," he says aloud. When Corporal Marsk wanders by and sees Zieke worrying over his shirt, he recommends one of the shops in town, Vernah's Fine Clothing, if he wants a new wardrobe.
"Much obliged," he comments. Shrugging into his only other clean shirt, he mulls over his options on paying for something new. His eyes glance over at the wall where he'd hung his weapons. The masterwork blade he'd brought from Korvosa seemed to stare back at him. It had always served as a reminder of his past. But, with the ancient Thassilonian sword to replace it -- and even Zieke had to admit it was made of stronger steel -- his Korvosan blade represented the best solution. If he could sell it, perhaps it would give him what he needed to at least look the part of an upstanding citizen at Sandpoint's council.
Lifting the scabbard from the wall, he draws the blade and looks at his reflection in the polished steel. "We've come a long way, you and I," he comments. A sense of nostalgia sweeps through him, not so much for the times he'd used the sword, but rather all the things he missed about the city he once called home. Those things feel too distant to matter now. Sandpoint is fast becoming his home. And letting go of this sword will close a chapter in his life. Zieke senses that much, but he doesn't allow it to bother him.
Satisfied with his decision, he finishes combing back his still-damp hair with his hands. Then he grabs the Korvosan sword and a small bag with most of his clothes and a few of his other belongings as he leaves. He heads down Tower Street for Savah's Armory to sell it off, haggling over the price as best he can given what he knows of the sword's value.
Flush with coin, he then heads into the heart of town, eventually finding himself on Prickleback Lane not too far from the Rusty Dragon. Zieke had to admit it wasn't a street he often traveled unless he was patrolling for the guardsmen or on his way to Ameiko's establishment. This time, however, he takes note of the boutique described by Corporal Marsk -- probably the only guardsman who would even know or care about such a place.
Summoning his courage -- for what kind of wilderness tracker and self-respecting warrior would venture into such a dress shop? -- Zieke boldly enters. He knocks on the open door and then losing some of his bravado, calls out a little timidly, "Anyone home?"
A beautiful woman, possibly in her late twenties, emerges from behind a silk screen and approaches you. You have certainly heard of Rynshinn Povalli, but you never imagined her to be quite like this. Her dress is stylish and sophisticated, without the slightest hint of being revealing. Yet it outlines her form in a way that leaves you momentarily speachless as she glides to a stop before you.
"Yes sir," she says as she glances over you appraisingly. "We sell only the finest clothing, from Sandpoint, Magnimar, and points east...."
Zieke seems completely at a loss for words for a few seconds, then finally manages to stammer. "Umm...uhh...y-yes," he blinks, "I'm here to buy clothes."
He smiles for a moment as if taking pride in answering her at all, but then realizes he probably didn't fully answer the question and hurries on. "Um...yes, well, of course you knew that. I meant...um, I mean...I'm here to buy some clothes," he says with a steadying breath, "Something a bit better than..." He starts to reach into his bag to pull out the ratty soiled garments he hopes to replace, then immediately thinks better of it and hides them before such a sight can embarrass him in front of the beautiful lady.
"Uh...well, better than...better than what I have," he states, trying to salvage the conversation, "I've...uh...I'm going to attend the Council meeting tonight. And I wanted to look a bit...umm, well, more polished than I usually do." He practically has to laugh at himself by the time he finishes.
"Look, I...I'm feeling a bit out of my element here," he says, "M-maybe I should come back some other time? Corporal Marsk suggested I come here and I'm starting to wonder if maybe he didn't pull a joke over on me? The other guards are bound to have quite a laugh if they see me putting on airs for the Councilors and Mayor."
"...What are you interested in? Please, allow me to take your measurements."
"I...uh...okay," Zieke manages. Despite his head telling him to flee from the store as if a raging dragon were on his heels, his feet stand firmly rooted to the hardwood floor. As the young lady guides him along, he feels like he's in a different world...constantly second-guessing himself and completely ill at ease. 'What the hell's wrong with you!' he mentally curses himself, 'Stop it! You're acting like a fool!'
Despite the intimacy of the occasion, Rynshinn maintains an absolute professional demeanor as your try on and remove various articles of clothing behind one of several screens set up for that purpose. With each trial, she checks the fit and makes minor adjustments. During this time, she ignores all other attempts at conversation while concentrating furiously on her measuring tapes and pins.
Zieke never interrupts her, alone with his jumbled, chaotic thoughts. 'Rynshinn Povalli...' he finally remembers her name, 'How did I miss seeing her for the past two years?!'
Finally, she dismisses you to a chair by the window while she retreats to the side of the shop to make some final adjustments at her sewing table....Two hours after you enter the shop, you emerge with a fine suit, suitable for any formal occasion, short of entreating with a king.
Having taken the time to regroup as he waited, Zieke is mindful to at least thank the lady as he pays her. "By far the best suit I've ever called my own," he tells her, taking great care to actually meet her eyes this time, "You do incredible work...Miss Povalli, is it? I had no idea Sandpoint had such a skilled seamstress. Thank you."
Ehlissa walks back into town, slightly sweaty and eager for a drink after her weapons practice. She sees a slightly bashful Zieke emerging from the clothes shop, and tilts her head with a slight grin of bemusement.
Now there's a thing!
"What ho!" she calls out, "Did you buy anything nice?"
"What ho!" she calls out, "Did you buy anything nice?"
Zieke cringes as he realizes someone sees him emerging from the fine clothing store. Then as he turns and sees it's Ehlissa, an even further sense of panic sets in. So much so, that he can't quite find an appropriately sarcastic reply.
"Uh...maybe," he answers, slinging his bag over his shoulder to protect their contents from her prying eyes.
"Where've you been all day?" he changes the subject, glancing once over his shoulder at Rynshinn's storefront window.
"Ah, Stormraven. I hoped it was you. Have you come to repay that scroll I loaned you?". Not waiting for a response, he strolls across the room to another panel - not the one the children went through - and, as the panel slides open, motions you to precede him.
;P
"Something like that. Thank you." Slidell replies appreciatively as he enters the portal. He looks back over his shoulder only long enough to throw a wink at the gruff receptionist. "She's truly a treasure." He says pleasantly as he follows Gandethus through the portal to his office.
"Actually, I've been a little pressed for time, I haven't had the chance to scribe those scrolls yet. I'll pick up some more ink and get them to you,... will tomorrow be alright? By the way, I wanted to thank you. That scroll worked perfectly!" He sighs in remorse. "I only regret that time didn't permit me to copy it into my tome. Ah well."
"I've come across something interesting, and I was hoping you might take a look at it for me. It may be an important clue to help me stop a repeat of the recent,... events, But I can't tell until I can open it."
Slidell removes his backpack and faces Gandethus.
"I couldn't help but notice your collection of artifacts from a variety of areas. You seem to be quite the connoisseur of mystical artifacts and Thassilonian items. You also have a reputation as a consummate professional and reliable personage. You already know that we were hired by the Mayor to help protect Sandpoint from any, return vists from teh goblins, or worse. Well, while investigating, we've come across an interesting item. Unfortunately, it's fairly elaborate. And my traveling tome is, woefully short of the more useful spells that might be able to penetrate it's defenses."
He pauses and rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Because it may involve the security of Sandpoint, I probably shouldn't be showing you this. But,... I can't go to the mayor with this until we know what it is,..." He rolls his eyes as he realizes he is starting to sound like Zieke. 'He must be rubbing off on me.' Slidell snorts mentally.
He returns his attention to Gandethus. "Look, it may be nothing but an elaborate magical toy, or it may be information, or maybe just something dangerous that needs to be kept out of the hands of the one behind the attacks. Either way, I'm asking if you'll assist me in identifying it and opening it. And if you'll keep what ever it is we discover to yourself. I will, of course, pay you any reasonable fee for services rendered that you request." He reaches into his backpack and pulls out the box, which is currently wrapped in a spare shirt. He holds the box in both hands and looks at Gandethus.
"Do we have an agreement?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, practising the old cut and thrust, you know," Ehlissa says casually, patting the sword at her hip.
"Over at the field.." she adds, pointing. As Zieke turns to look, Ehlissa grabs his bag and opens it up.
"Oh well!" she says with an air of awe (mock, who knows?) "Very nice!" as she examines the new suit.
"Oh, practising the old cut and thrust, you know," Ehlissa says casually, patting the sword at her hip. "Over at the field..." she adds, pointing.
"Oh. Yeah..." Zieke is easily distracted by her comment, "I practice over there sometimes too and I..."
As Zieke turns to look, Ehlissa grabs his bag and opens it up. "Oh well!" she says with an air of awe (mock, who knows?) "Very nice!" as she examines the new suit.
"Hey!" Zieke comes off more than a little defensive and angry, "Give that back!"
He chases her a bit along the boardwalk in front of the store, but seems reluctant to make an even bigger scene by continuing that tactic and attracting even more attention from passersby.
"Now!" he demands, resorting to the most authoritative voice he has available...
Once he has the bag back in hand, he secures it more firmly.
"It's a little late in the day for fun and games, sweetheart," Zieke states, obviously in a sour mood and overly defensive about the whole thing, "I've got a meeting tonight. So do you and the others. The Sheriff's back. He and the Mayor want to speak with everyone. Why don't you go pass the word? I've got my own stuff to look into..."
With that, he gruffly leaves her behind, his gait still marred by his embarrassment and anger over feeling embarrassed...and by her of all things!
Once Zieke returns to the garrison, he changes clothes again...putting on the courtier's outfit. He leaves his weapons behind and heads back to the town hall for the council meeting. Although he's conscious of turning heads...as it's the first time anyone in town has seen him this dressed up...he uses the encounter with Ehlissa to deflect any further self-consciousness about it, determined not to feel any further embarrassment.
Grinning like the cat that got the cream, Ehlissa taunts him playfully, "Now, come on, I just want to have a look!"
Laughing at seeing the big warrior running along trying to get his clothes back, she turns and with the attitude of someone much younger says, "You can't get me!", and gives the bag back with a great laugh and grin. Breathlessly she replies to his gruff dismissal, "Well-see-you-later hahaha! And very nice you'll look too! I-can't-wait!"
As he leaves in a huff, she starts laughing as even his usual taunt has lost some of its sting.
You inspect the book and flip through the crisp leaves...
As you finish your perusal, Naffer smiles broadly and gazes at you expectantly. "Very good, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," Salome says encouragingly, "very good. Continue to take good care of this book. I am sure our lady of the dawn will smile upon you." As she speaks, her eyes are drawn to the stacks of parchment. Perception check (1d20 5=12)
"Nafir, can you show me where you were when you had your--" she clears her throat-- "vision?"
As she follows him out, she has one more question. "Do you know if there are any other Dawn-worshippers in Sandpoint? I thought perhaps we could have a prayer service on Sunday."
After getting the caretaker's tour, Salome bows in thanks and takes her leave. She wanders around the cathedral a little, stopping to offer a brief prayer of gratitude to Sarenrae for her continuing protection, and especially for the holiness bestowed upon the subterranean shrine.
Then she walks through the town, trying to better familiarize herself with the area. If this is where Sarenrae wants me, it would do well for me to know where I am...
Gandethus gingerly takes the box and turns it in his hands, examining it from every angle. Then he produces a handkerchief and wraps the box in it before slipping it into his pocket.
"Yes, I will look into it. Give me a day or two and I will send for you. We can discuss payment at that time. And don't worry about secrecy - few ask me any questions these days. Fewer still want to hear answers." His mouth twists into a slight grin.
"Now, then. The children will be having supper soon and I really must join them. Is there anything else? Good. I will call for you in a day or two."
Slidell holds up a finger, obviously about to say something, then closes his mouth and nods instead. He clears his throat self-consiously, obviously not used to having another talk his way into being in charge of the conversation. "Very well. Thank you in advance. I appreciate your efforts and time. Just, be careful. It may look like a child's jewelry box, but the one we,... recovered, that from was anything but a child. It may be dangerous. See you in a day or so!"
And with that, the panel behind you opens and Gandethus takes his leave in the opposite direction.
Slidell sweeps his hat back onto his head at a jaunty angle as he re-shoulders his pack. Passing through the portal, he lifts his hat off his head in salute to the unsmiling woman behind the desk.
"Thank you so much! Always a pleasure! You have a lovely evening madam!" He calls with his spotlight smile on full brightness. Veran hides his head under his wing.
Letting himself out the front door, he takes a deep breath of the cooling evening air. "Oh,... bother! I wanted to ask him what he thought about the cup too! Ah well, I'll see him again soon. Alright Veran, what else is on the list? We need to pick up some more ink and parchment, and a couple of chemicals, maybe we can borrow some pots and pans from the Rusty Dragon? Hmmm,... maybe not. I don't know what boiled Imp wings smell like, but I'm pretty sure Ameiko won't like it in her kitchen! We should probably swing by and pick up our pay from the mayor's office. I have a few ideas bouncing around in my head for some interesting enchantments I'm dreaming up, but I think the biggest drawback is funds for materials,..."
He continues to ramble on to Veran as he turns and heads up the street.
Salome notices the bells representing the six dieties honored in the cathedral, and observes that the easternmost bell -- Sarenrae's -- was likely the one that blinded the bell-ringer.
But he does this every day. What made this different? she wonders, believing more and more that the Dawn Goddess had a hand in this new revelation.
She thanks Naffer with a bow. After her prayer at the shrine, Salome then heads south, generally toward the docks, figuring she will take the scenic route toward the Rusty Dragon.
Vesh's perception check (1d20-4=14).
Her brow furrow, but only momentarily. Quickly her features soften and she pulls her chair closer to you. In a low voice, gentle and almost a little scretive, she implores you, "Tell me everything, Vesh. I cannot help you unless I know all the details."
Vesh's Diplomacy Check (1d20+5=9).
Vesh says, "I don't know what to say, Hannah. I'm not at liberty to discuss the matter in detail until we report to the Mayor. All I can say is this. I drank Milk of Lamashtu, not once, but twice. I was compelled by some strong magic to do so. I don't remember the events that followed my drinking of the milk, but I was told that I attacked my friends."
He puts his face in his hands for a moment. "That is all I ought to say, at least for now."
"But tell me, Hannah, where else have you heard the name of Lamashtu?"
Perception DC 12
** spoiler omitted **
Vesh perception check (1d20-4=-2).
Vesh is unceremoniously dumped on the street and is lost in his thoughts when he sees Mal approaching to meet him.
"Hello, my friend." Says Vesh to the rogue. Looking up, Vesh sees the afternoon dissolve into evening and says, "Shall we walk to a little watering hole I've discovered in my back alley jaunts? I have a story to tell you..."
Along the way, Vesh tells Mal about what just happened with Hannah, that he had hoped to see if she could identify the owner of the doll furniture ("I never got that far, as you can see."), and to find out what connection she had with Nualia ("She knows something, Mal.")
As the sun sinks slowly towards it's appointment with the horizon, and Salome wanders by the mercantile, she hears a familiar voice. It is hard to mistake. She has heard it so much lately. Sure enough, she sees the familiar form of the tall, skinny majii. He is paying no attention to where he is walking, (as usual) and appears to be talking to himself in public. She realizes now that he is actually arguing with the raven on his shoulders. And this time it is about,... ink?
"It took me a year to perfect it! There is nothing wrong with my ink formula! Your just trying to talk me into spending good coin and milking a squid so you can have fresh seafood!" Slidell is saying, waving a bundle of parchment in one hand and a small bag which clinks in the other.
"AND because it got me in the face. Admit it. You just want to see me get inked again!" He continues.
"Funny stuff! Funny Stuff!" The raven screeches in reply in his 'public' voice.
"Yeah. Hysterical. When it happens to someone else. Besides, there is no proof that squid ink is superior. There was that one test, ONE, which claimed it produced superior performance when used to pen water spells, But that was written by Jason for Nethys' sake. HE couldn't prove that wood catches on fire if you lit it for him!"
"Awwk! Jealous! Jealous!" Veran screeches.
"Jealous? Jealous?!" Slidell stops walking, and starts sputtering. "Of that two-bit, weasel-faced, back-biting, @$$-kissing, spell-swiper?!?"
Most people turn red when upset or agitated, Slidell seems to turn paler Salome notices.
"Next you'll be telling me that I'm jealous because he got the position at the academy! Well your wrong! Even if he did only get it by stealing MY formula, HE is stuck in that dreary old dungeon of a lab all day and night, forced to 'Produce or Perish' as they say in academia. Whereas I am traveling the world, seeing the sights, meeting fascinating people, and unraveling what could very well be some of the greatest mystical mysteries of the Thassilonian Age! Jealous?! HA! You couldn't be more wrong!" The mage decrees in a stage whisper. From the way he is brandishing the roll of parchment he is obviously considering making his statement a bit more firmly. About the bird's head and shoulders. And possibly wishing that it was his staff instead. Veran, for his part, merely meets his 'master's' eye with a knowing tilt of his head.
With an exasperated sigh, Slidell lowers the bundle of parchment.
"Wouldn't want to waste good parchment." He mutters, shaking his head, bemused. Veran, somehow, manages to smirk.
"You know I hate it when you do that." Slidell fusses, almost poking Veran in the beak with the parchments.
"Come on slowpoke." Slidell tells the bird, despite the fact that said bird is perched on his shoulder. "I want to check out one more shop before they close. If this rod idea is going to properly channel sound energy, it will require a very certain type of wood,..." He starts moving again, still talking, still oblivious to Salome's presence on the street. As they pass Salome, Veran turns his his head, and winks at her. Allowing the mage to continue uninterrupted.
Mal follows Vesh through the streets of Sandpoint, listening to his tale. "Aye, she knows more than she's telling." he says when Vesh finishes. "The question is, how important is what she knows? Is it just rumors and hearsay or some naughty, yet ultimately unimportant secret, or something else entirely. I wonder if there's anyone else who could tell us anything."
I wonder if there's anyone else who could tell us anything."
"Come on slowpoke." Slidell tells the bird, despite the fact that said bird is perched on his shoulder. "I want to check out one more shop before they close. If this rod idea is going to properly channel sound energy, it will require a very certain type of wood,..." He starts moving again, still talking, still oblivious to Salome's presence on the street. As they pass Salome, Veran turns his his head, and winks at her. Allowing the mage to continue uninterrupted.
He really is koozeh, Salome thinks. I think he would be having this conversation even if there were no bird on his shoulder... She braces herself before addressing the riled-up majji passing by her.
"Majji!," she calls out, half hoping he doesn't hear her, and hoping even more that the people on the street are unaware that they are associated.
When he is close enough she can speak softly, she asks, "What do you know of giants in this land? A man I know dreamed a dream in which he saw a jackal looking out the eye of a living giant. Are there tales of such things in the west?"
Mal follows Vesh through the streets of Sandpoint, listening to his tale. "Aye, she knows more than she's telling." he says when Vesh finishes. "The question is, how important is what she knows? Is it just rumors and hearsay or some naughty, yet ultimately unimportant secret, or something else entirely. I wonder if there's anyone else who could tell us anything."
Vesh nods and steers Mal through a tangle of side streets and alleys before emerging on Undercliff way. In the shadow of the cathedral and the cliff it is perched upon is Risa's Place, a local watering hole supposedly popular with the locals because of it's out-of-the-way locale, Vesh explains.
"It's supposed to be run by a local Varisian woman and her sons. I'm in the mood to try her spiced potatoes," he says, "and try the locals for some insight."
Vesh's Gather Information check (1d20+3=10).
After a while Vesh continues his conversation with Malcolm as discretely as possible at a side table. "Do you ever get the sense that Sandpoint is an under-ripened fruit, almost ready for the picking? Compared to Riddleport, anyway. I wonder what kind of guild runs the black market here. There are Scarzni, to be sure, but I wonder who really runs the place. And I wonder if there is anything we can do to balance the books in our favor, if you get my meaning."
"Majji!," ...
Slidell stops, straightens up. "Salome?" He turns around. "Salome! Good to see you. How are you doing? Did you have a nice nap too I hope?" He asks, the glance he shares with his familiar promising a 'serious talk' later for not bringing her to his attention.
"Are you out shopping too?" He continues, beaming happily.
When he is close enough she can speak softly, she asks, "What do you know of giants in this land? "
Slidell looks puzzled. "Giants? Sure. I haven't seen them myself, but there are supposed to be tribes out,.. oh, thataway somewhere. I know there are Ogres for certain. I avoided a tribe of them while I was traveling towards Sandpoint. Why do you ask?"
"A man I know dreamed a dream in which he saw a jackal looking out the eye of a living giant. Are there tales of such things in the west?"
Slidell's expression goes from puzzled to outright confused. "A Jackal,... staring out the eye of a LIVING giant? I don't know much about interpreting dreams, but,... Wait, wait a second,..." He holds up a hand for a silence, the other hand furiously rubbing his chin. "That sounds familiar somehow,..."
He lowers his hands and returns his attention to Salome with an intensity she has seen before. He is now thinking only of her question. Everything else seems to have been set aside.
"Alright," He says briskly. "I think I'm missing something important here. Please start at the beginning, and tell me every detail that you can remember about this man's dream."
Slidell pulls out his small crumpled paper bundle, and pops a sweet into his mouth, (possibly to prevent himself from interrupting). "Sorry, where are my manners. Candy?" He smiles and mumbles around the bit in his mouth. "Pray, continue." He says, popping another bit in his mouth and obviously preparing to hang on Salome's every word.
To his credit, the raven also seems genuinely interested in Salome's story.
Mal follows Vesh through the streets of Sandpoint, listening to his tale. "Aye, she knows more than she's telling." he says when Vesh finishes. "The question is, how important is what she knows? Is it just rumors and hearsay or some naughty, yet ultimately unimportant secret, or something else entirely. I wonder if there's anyone else who could tell us anything."Vesh nods and steers Mal through a tangle of side streets and alleys before emerging on Undercliff way. In the shadow of the cathedral and the cliff it is perched upon is Risa's Place, a local watering hole supposedly popular with the locals because of it's out-of-the-way locale, Vesh explains.
"It's supposed to be run by a local Varisian woman and her sons. I'm in the mood to try her spiced potatoes," he says, "and try the locals for some insight."
Vesh's Gather Information check (1d20+3=10).
After a while Vesh continues his conversation with Malcolm as discretely as possible at a side table. "Do you ever get the sense that Sandpoint is an under-ripened fruit, almost ready for the picking? Compared to Riddleport, anyway. I wonder what kind of guild runs the black market here. There are Scarzni, to be sure, but I wonder who really runs the place. And I wonder if there is anything we can do to balance the books in our favor, if you get my meaning."
Malcolm looks at Vesh for a moment and then grins "It does seem like a couple smart fellows from Riddleport might be able to do well for themselves here doesn't it?." lenaing forward he continues "It's a good waypoint for smugglers; the tunnels we saw were evidence of that. When I was sailor, the ship I was on quitely delivered some merchandise here a few times. The Scarzni here are petty thugs and extortionists, not brilliant criminals.".
Malcolm leans forward and grins again "I believe you're right my friend; I think you and me could do good buisness here."
Sli's Knowledge (Local) UNTrained: (1d20+3=11)
Sli's Knowledge (Arcana): (1d20+9=17)
Slidell nods occasionally, but does not interrupt as Salome speaks. At some point during this, he manages to swap out his paper bag for his pipe without her noticing. As far as she can tell, his eyes have never left hers since she started speaking.
Slidell's expression goes from puzzled to outright confused. "A Jackal,... staring out the eye of a LIVING giant? I don't know much about interpreting dreams, but,... Wait, wait a second,..." He holds up a hand for a silence, the other hand furiously rubbing his chin. "That sounds familiar somehow,...Alright," He says briskly. "I think I'm missing something important here. Please start at the beginning, and tell me every detail that you can remember about this man's dream.""
"I do not need you to interpret the dream," Salome says, clearly annoyed at the wizard's delay. "I want to know about giant-lore. In Qadira, we have jackals; ancient people worshipped jackals as death-gods. And there are desert stories of large people, qu-Laths, but not giants."
"Sorry, where are my manners. Candy?"
It seems to me you have none, Salome thinks, while he's talking with his mouth full of candy, but simply shakes her head at the philistine's offer.
"That's the story. He dreamt of a giant with a jackal in its eye socket."
JSL-Question,
I'm trying NOT to meta-game, I remember reading somewhere about Thistletop bearing a vague resemblance to a giant head. Is that something that Brodert Quint (IE=You) actually told me, or am I remembering it from somewhere else? I haven't had time to look up all the old posts yet, but I thought Quint had mentioned it to Sli.
"Well, I think we can presume that the three-eyed jackal refers to Lamashtuu. But, a jackal Staring out of a giant's eye?" The mage shrugs his shoulders.
"Tales of the Runelords tell of entire clans of enslaved giants being used to build their monuments. The giants and the Runelords are as synonymous as the Runelords and the Runes themselves! I even heard one tale about magical giants used as army commanders. But, staring out the giant's eye. I don't know,..."
;)
:)
"There's something in the back of my mind,... where have I heard that befo,... of course, Quint!" Slidell cries happily.
"You remember Brodert Quint, the 'Sage of Sandpoint'? I mentioned him before. He's the one with the wild theories about some of the landmarks around here. Like the 'Old Light' being an ancient Thassilonian weapon. I really don't understand why he's considered an eccentric," he mutters aside to Veran.
"ANY-way, he also talked about this place, not too far away from Sandpoint,... Oh, now what WAS the name of that place?!" He complains, tapping his forehead.
"Shamrock and Thistle?,... Hustle and Pop?,... Whistlestop?,.. That's it! THISTLETOP!" He declares proudly, beaming at Salome.
"Thistletop is this small island, more like a really big rock according to Quint, just shy of touching the shore. It's supposed to be infested with goblins. Actually, I think it's one of the few places where they actually know where the goblins are! Anyway,... Quint says that if you look at Thistletop from the right angle, it looks like a giant head!"
He beams at Salome, almost bouncing on his toes.
"Wait, wait. I know you think I jump to conclusions, but hear me out. Let me see if I have this right,..." He chews on his fingertip for a moment.
"Ok, what if Quint is right? What if This 'Thistletop' is really the remains of one of the old Thassilonian monuments? The head of a giant statue?! I mean, look what WE just found right here in Sandpoint! We know that the three-eyed jackal is popular with Lamashtuu. We also know that the Imp claimed that she sent her 'daughter', whom we presume is Nualia, somewhere to release some devil-spawn or other that serves Lamashtuu. We know that the Goblins attack on Sandpoint was planned and coordinated by Nualia and Tsutso,... AND we know that Thistletop is inhabited by goblins,..."
His smile slowly threatens to reach both ears, and Salome can almost hear the clicks as his thoughts find their places.
"SOMEbody up there likes you." He says, gesturing vaguely towards the darkening sky.
"I think that your goddess just told you where we can find Nualia!"
"You remember Brodert Quint, the 'Sage of Sandpoint'? I mentioned him before. He's the one with the wild theories about some of the landmarks around here. Like the 'Old Light' being an ancient Thassilonian weapon. I really don't understand why he's considered an eccentric, " he mutters aside to Veran.
Salome looks at the excitable mage with a raised eyebrow.
"Thistletop is this small island, more like a really big rock according to Quint, just shy of touching the shore. It's supposed to be infested with goblins. Actually, I think it's one of the few places where they actually know where the goblins are! Anyway ,... Quint says that if you look at Thistletop from the right angle, it looks like a giant head!"
"And this makes you...happy?" she says, rather perplexed by Slidell's growing excitement.
"Ok, what if Quint is right? What if This 'Thistletop' is really the remains of one of the old Thassilonian monuments? The head of a giant statue?!
"Were we not just in a Thassilonian monument? The Thassilonians themselves were not giants, were they? But that room beyond Alzanist and the runewell were huge..." her voice trails. Returning she says, "The island, a statue? I do not believe that the Runelords would build a tribute to a slave. I think it far more likely that goblins would build a dwelling out of a corpse."
"I think that your goddess just told you where we can find Nualia!"
"And I think you do jump to conclusions. But thank you for the information about giants," answers Salome tersely before walking into the mercantile to look at looms and yarn... maybe a few scarves...
"And I think you do jump to conclusions. But thank you for the information about giants," answers Salome tersely before walking into the mercantile,...
"Your,... welcome?" Slidell answers, realizing that he is talking to Salome's retreating back. The mage and the bird look at each other. They both shrug.
"She must really want to get something before the shop closes. Wow. Thistletop. IF we're going to be headed there anytime soon, we need to get busy scribing these scrolls! What spells do you think that Gandethus would like? Would? Wood? WAND! IS that carpenter shop still open?!?" The lanky mage turns and runs down the street, heading for the local carpenter.
Vesh bends Mal's ear with tales from Riddleport--the first time he has done so with anyone from the party--as they sit a Risa's. After a time he rises, pays the barkeep some silvers for the drinks, and says to Mal as they leave, "I think we should pay some attention to things around town, make some inquiries about the local scene. I think we'd draw less attention to ourselves if we did so separately than together... But, perhaps we should be getting back to the Dragon. I hope that the others are there."
Slidell enters the Rusty Dragon, clutching a roll of parchments, and Muttering to himself, or Veran, about the different properties of various woods. He waves to Vesh, long legs swiftly carrying him to his room where he deposits his purchases, pack and staff. He then rejoins the Varisian at the table.
The mage deposits his hat on the table as he grabs a cider, Thanking Bethana, and settles in across the table from Vesh. He takes a long, appreciative swig of the cold cider, and sighs in happiness.
"Did you have a nice rest, stroll, whatever?" He asks, his eyes glinting with laughter. He is obviously in a good mood. "I did a little shopping. Scrolls to scribe, wands to enchant, that sort of thing. Ran into Salome. She was very interested in getting something from the mercantile. Didn't even wait for me to tell her what I knew about the local giant legends. And she's the one who asked!" He says with a smile.
He takes another swig, and leans closer, lowering his voice. "I think I have control of the rod now. I decided against testing it in a flammable setting, for obvious reasons." He whispers, waving in the general direction of the ceiling beams, which look freshly dusted. "I used the glasses with no side effects, unless you count the headache, but didn't 'see' anything. Obviously I wasn't looking at whatever it is they show. I only used them looking around the room. I'll have to test them on magical writings, invisible objects, yadda yadda. We'll figure it out!"
"I may need some help with the Cup. I found runes in the eye gems. Actually, they're probably under the gem mounts, but,... anyway, they roughly translate into 'From Weakness, Strength'." HE shrugs. "I figure that most likely indicates that the cup produces a strength potion, or it's equivalent." HE grins evilly. "I find that Arcanists of any generation are usually lacking in imagination when marking their items with clues as to their function. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to figure out how to trigger the cup's effect." He frowns thoughtfully. "I do hope that the cup doesn't require a,... tasteless ingredient to trigger the transformation. I only tried water. But if it is Ancient Thassilonian in origin,... Well. They weren't renowned for their good tastes."
He shudders, snags a roll from the bowl on the table, takes a bite, and holds up the rest for Veran, who eagerly snags it and flaps to the rafters.
"Your welcome." Slidell says wryly with a smirk. He leans forward again.
"Ok. I confess I was completely flummoxed over the box. I, took it to Gandethus." He holds up his hands before the other scan even react. "I know, I know! I should have asked you all first! But it was getting late, and I didn't know where you were,... you weren't there when I turned around,... and it hit me. Gandethus. When you walk into his school he has artifacts from all over the continent. Maybe further. He has magical knowledge that I don't, yet, and he seems generally removed from the general public. He even eats with his students. I don't want to spread knowledge of what we found around. And I didn't mention where we found it, but I don't think that he would tell anyone even if I had. Call it intuition, 'professional courtesy', or whatever. So I, left it with him to identify. He'll get back with me in a day or so when he's had time to examine it."
He sits back and takes another sip.
"So, how was your afternoon?"