Corran is going to stare awestruck at the 15 platinum coins, then go looking for a sparring partner or a practice field of sorts.
Then I'll spend the day working on my melee skills, since I feel I was lacking in the last fight. The arrow in the shoulder was unavoidable in that situation, but letting the goblin leader through my guard to slice me? Unacceptable.
I'll be back in time to wash up before dinner.
For Corran:
[spoiler]
You take your leave of the party and head for the town garrison figuring they should have enough space and proper equipment for military drills. Outside you notice that the goblin damage at this end of town was minimal - the occasional overturned cart or freshly rummaged garbage pile being the only indication of last night's events. But as you approach the north end of town, signs of violence are more common. You see blood spattered on the cobblestones, discarded weapons, dead animals, and even the occasional goblin (or portion thereof) lying in a ditch.A pair of guards is making their way through town with a wagon collecting what debris and offal they can. Townsfolk mill about aimlessly or peer out from behind curtained windows apparently undecided as to whether they want to get involved. The guards acknowledge you with a curt nod as you pass. Taking this as a cue, a pair of young boys begin following you and an old lady presses a loaf of warm bread into your hand, thanking you profusely.
You find the garrison as you expected. There are only half a dozen guards here and, though they all seem to be nursing injuries, their spirits are high. They are practicing with swords and spears on the dry field in the center of the garrison. Recognizing you as a fellow man-at-arms, they hail you and invite you to drill with them.
The day passes quickly and you find the guards to be good company. Many are from backgrounds similar to yours - sons of farmers following family traditions of service. They speak of marriage and settling down to their own...
Nothing too specific to ask,but I'll probably spend my days practicing here if we have more than a days downtime, returning to the Rusty Dragon for dinner and to talk to people before turning in for the night
After Ehlissa, Corran, and Malcolm take their leave, Vesh approaches Ameiko and thanks her profusely for the room and board. "May I have a private word with you, if you have a moment?" Vesh asks her. "It won't take long, I promise."
Once in a quiet spot in her inn, away from prying eyes, Vesh produces his set of thieve's tools. "Don't ask me why I think so," he starts, "but I suspect that you might be able to tell me where I might trade these in for a finer, more expensive set."
"Also, I need to wash and mend my clothes and a hot bath before dinner tonight. Might I arrange to have those here? Or, is there a bath-house or barber in this town?"
Spoilered due to long-windedness.
Slidell awakes the next morning to the messenger at the door. He stares at the bag and note after the messenger leaves, grinning like a kid in a candy store. This will help his current situation, a lot. He feels remarkably refreshed considering how much exercise he got yesterday! Of course, that might just be positive feelings from his freshly rejuvinated mystical abilities (and bag o' money). After freshening up in the rooms water basin, he spends a few minutes perusing his spellbook. Much to the chagrin of Veran.
"Just one more page you feathered beanbag." Slidell said in response to Veran's complaining. His nose never leaving his spellbook. "If you hadn't passed out so early, you could have filled up on Quint's 'biscuts'. they were at least a week stale. You'd have loved them."
While Slidell traded verbal jabs with his familiar like always, he was obviously distracted and he wasn't into the sparring as usual. Veran noted that it took Slidell at least 5 more minutes to prepare his spells than it normally did.
"Argh! Finally!" Slidell exclaimed, slamming the tome shut with one hand while rubbing his eyes with the other. "I wish I could cast spells without having to study them every day. And don't you start!" he snapped as Veran opened his beak. "We've had that conversation already. If I could become a sorcerer, I would! It would leave more time for research for one thing. Still. I always wondered why someone couldn't choose to cast spells spontaneously. That acid splash I cast yesterday felt,... odd." Veran cocked his head as he observed his master, but made no comment about the fact that Slidell didn't seem to realize that he was tracing the runes on his arm as he spoke.
At Veran's prodding, Slidell collected his gear and they left the room to go to breakfast. He paused only once more in his descent downstairs. At Neahlah's door he started to knock, stopped. Started to knock again. Stopped, listened but heard nothing. Finally he sighed and continued downstairs.
'What's wrong with me? I can face a goblin in the street and blast it to smithereens, But I can't knock on the door of a,...friend to see if she is alright? Never bothered me before. Of course, I never really had any female, friends, before either. Oh let her rest! Even if the Priest healed her fully, she'll still be tired and recovering.' He silently convinced himself.
Slidell stopped short at the bottom of the stairs at the sight that waited for him. The White Tail Deer Inn always seemed full. But now it seemed, crowded. And while the clientle of the White Deer was more, subdued, than thier compatriots over at Ameiko's, Slidell's first impression was that it was quite raucous. He quickly figured that it was to be expected. After all, the town had just had a major celebration interrupted by an attack of a concerted force of goblins. People were bound to come together and share thier relief, frustration and anxieties. He continued on into the common room for breakfast. Blissfully unaware of the amount of looks, stares and comments that were aimed in his direction. And, not wanting to delay his breakfast any longer, Veran kept his beak shut, and his observations to himself.
In contrast to her new friends, Ehlissa isn't really awestruck my the coins. Appreciative, yes; but she is accustomed to wealth. The young noble first of all goes to the stable and checks on her horse to see if she is alright still. After this she heads to the Boutique to procure a dress for tonight's meeting, one that will convey the right image And get me looking female again! she thinks. She also purchases tasteful accessories to set it off.
Slidell sets out on his way to the Town Hall. He decides to chat up a few people along the way to see if he can figure out what was really going on yesterday. His first few attempts to 'chat up' individuals are a dismal failure. They simply could not get past who he was and how he acted to give him the answers he was looking for. Then he hit his first bulls-eye of the day.
The kids.
The things that people will not talk about in front of other adults, they seem to have no problem with repeating in front of their children. And the Sandpoint kids are as sharp as tacks. Through a combination of animated storytelling, sleight of hand tricks, 'stupid bird tricks', a few copper pieces and a lot of candy, Slidell pieced together a very interesting picture-puzzle of the goblin attack. By the time he had reached Town Hall he had gathered quite a few followers. He finally managed to dismiss them with promises of more coppers & sweets, if they would promise to continue bringing him 'interesting stories' of their own. He then proceeded into the Town Hall and to converse with the clerk, who was helpful, but not exactly a font of information.
After a few hours of staring at old records, Slidell sits back and rubs his eyes. "Veran, Let me see if I have this straight. First, Ameiko's mother perishes in a fall from her balcony. A terrible accident. Then a month later the Chopper has his rampage. A terrible series of crimes. Then a month after that a fire burns down the church, and claims the lives of the priest and his adopted daughter. Apparently a terrible accident, and a terrible catastrophe as well."
He looked his familiar in the face. "Even if I did believe in coincidence, I would have a hard time swallowing this one. Swallow. Food. I'm hungry, are you hungry? Great Nethys' Necromantic Nutria! We're late for dinner! Come on Veran! We still have time to change if we hurry!" He hollered at the bird as he snagged his traveller's cloak and ran for the door.
"And if you make me late, I'm having 'Fried Familiar' as a consolation dinner!" He shouted from the doorway. Only to find that Veran had made a shortcut of the open window, and was already mocking him from halfway down the street. Much to the delight of a few of his young, die-hard fans, who had been lurking outside most of the day waiting for him to reappear.
Ehlissa is concerned that so many people were hurt, but is confident that Magnimaran soldiery can withstand the goblin menace.
After spending the day wandering about Sandpoint and enjoying the attention given to me I return to the Rusty Dragon and dress in my finest clothing. I hold my dagger for a moment, considering, before I slip it into a sheath in my boot. "Can't be too careful." I mutter as I go downstairs to await the rest of my companions and what I expect to be a excellent meal. As Slidell rushes past me I shout "I was once told that a wizard is never late, but you look like your in quite a hurry for someone who's never late."
------------------------------------------------
By the gods! Vesh thinks as a groan escapes his mouth. He is lowering himself into a tub—made from half a wine barrel—that is big enough for four people and is filled with steaming water. I could kiss Bethana for this.
He leans back, allowing the water to come up to his chin, and reflects on the day he just has spent in Sandpoint—only his second, unbelievably:
After buying a set of finely-made Varisian travel clothes for an arm-and-a-leg (One platinum, indeed!) at the Sandpoint Boutique, Vesh made his way along the now-familiar path to the White Deer Inn to see if he could catch up with Slidell and Naelah.
“The tall one and his bird left some time ago,” said the Shoanti innkeeper stoically, “As for Naelah.” He stopped and looked Vesh over thoroughly before pushing a mug of spiced tea in Vesh’s direction, “I have not seen her or her wolf come down, but that does not mean that she has not.”
Vesh wondered at the innkeeper’s cryptic reply, but thought better of asking further questions. I would wager that neither man nor mouse enters or leaves this place without him knowing.
Somewhat dejected at not meeting his new companions, Vesh sipped his spiced tea and turned his attention to the conversations that surrounded him.
Vesh’s Gather Information check = 20
So, that was the cause of Father Zantus’ heated conversation with the Sheriff last night!
Draining his mug—the Shoanti refusing payment—Vesh left the White Deer deep in thought. Going to the Fatman’s Feedbag half-distracted was not the smartest thing to do, reflects Vesh. But, once he saw the tools the Sczarnieri had, Vesh couldn’t resist. Barely getting half of what he paid for his own tools, Vesh paid more than three times as much to get the wonderfully made lock-picks in the Feedbag’s “back room” as the Sczarnieri called it. Thinking back, though, Vesh worries that he and the Sczarnieri were not the only ones present in the room—he just can’t remember.
The only thing Vesh is thinking about now, though, is how good this bath feels as he washes the saltwater, blood, and dirt from his body. If only I had the company of a good woman to enjoy this with! He sits back and his thoughts drift to Naelah. He feels a smile play itself across his face, a smile that abruptly changes to a yell of surprise when—as his thoughts begin to go in an altogether different direction—Bethana appears in the doorway to ask if he needs anything.
“No!” Says Vesh abruptly as he crouches and turns, splashing water on the floor in an attempt to conceal from her a view that might prove…incriminating. “No, Bethana. Thanks! Huh…Thank you!”
“It’ll be time for dinner, soon, young master.” She says as she backs out the door, smiling. By Desna’s laugh! Vesh thinks. He prays that Bethana thinks the redness in his face comes from the heat of the water and not from the embarrassment burning in his gut.
Drying himself, he dons his new clothes, wears his freshly-honed shortsword and daggers, and looks at himself in a mirror before exiting to join his companions in the common room of the Rusty Dragon. He is startled to see his own youthful foolishness on his face—Hero of Sandpoint? Where?—and turns an even brighter shade of red as he considers, with a lump in his throat, just how far from home he is.
|
...as his thoughts begin to go in an altogether different direction...
Ha! I suppose that "altogether different" is heavy on euphemism but is actually a pretty inaccurate description. If he started thinking about Veren, now that would be altogether different! A better way to say this would be, "...as his thoughts start to take on a life of their own..."
Corran continues to train and spar at the barracks whenever possible. While there, he hears quite a bit of gossip from the militia. Likewise, people tend to want to tell the "hero" all kinds of things during the evenings at the Rusty Dragon.
While Corran doesn't think he can do much about the missing corpse, he does go to Hemlock to offer his services in light of the militia being undermanned due to the casulties.
Vesh is trying hard to put the distractions of earlier events aside, but is having difficulty doing so. He sips his glass of exquisite wine and looks around the table at the faces of his new friends. Is that what they are?
With a sinking feeling, Vesh realizes that a large part of his discomfort comes from the fact that these friends--friends he fought and bled with yesterday--are, in fact, all strangers to him. With the heat of yesterday's battle removed and far away, he wonders what, if anything, will hold this group together.
So, with these thoughts racing through his head, Vesh eats and drinks and listens. In answering Foxglove's question, perhaps he too will learn more about these folks. Of course, thinks Vesh, I will have to answer as well... The familiar frown crosses Vesh's face as he considers the wisdom of disclosing that he is actually a petty criminal from Riddleport running from--from everyone, it seems.
"Well, you have been a most gracious host, Lord Foxglove." says Ehlissa politely, "I feel I have not presented myself to you in the correct manner, so I shall now rectify that. The Honourable Ehlissa Briez, third child of Lord Randolf Briez of Magnimar at your service. As to my business, I am on a mission for my father, the details of which I fear I must keep to myself." Oh gosh, I really hope he doesn't catch on that the last bit is a complete fib!
Somehow, Ehlissa has managed to procure a hair brush, and some pins in order to create a fashionable noblewoman's hairstyle for herself for this evening. Her new jewelry and dress present a very different image to the impetuous swordswoman whose clothes were but recently stained with goblin blood.
She feels bad that Vesh and Corran (her comrades in the last battle) have been placed so far away... and dreads the inevitable prattle that the crazed magician might come out with.
"As to my business, I am on a mission for my father, the details of which I fear I must keep to myself."
Perhaps I am not the only one with a past to keep secret. He catches Corran's eye to see if he has any reaction to Ehlissa's dodge.
"As to my business, I am on a mission for my father, the details of which I fear I must keep to myself."Perhaps I am not the only one with a past to keep secret. He catches Corran's eye to see if he has any reaction to Ehlissa's dodge.
Corran just shrugs at Vesh.
Not that I suspect Ehlissa of lying, but its not my place to question a noble. Doing stuff like that tends to be bad when most of the nobles you encounter are officers ranked far above a lowly trooper, or so I've been told by my family. Just nod, agree to do whatever they command, and then do what really needs to be done when they aren't around.
I sit at the finely appointed table with a smile and a bow to our host. "A gracious setting. I thank you for your hospitality." I say, trying to be more formal. "Just like that job back in Kaer Maga." I think as I enjoy the fine food and wine presented by Foxglove.
When I comes to be my turn to seak of my past I put down the glass of wine I start to speak.
"Well, I hail from Riddleport. I did odd jobs there until I got a position on a ship as a sailor. We carried merchandise and we made a tidy profit. I becae trusted by the captain and probably would have eventually captained her myself but we ran into a squall near Korvosa a month back and it swept us off course. I escaped on a small ship and I think that everyone else was stranded on a hellish island thats reported to be there. The winds brought me here and I'm working on getting boat repaired so that I can go back and rescue the rest of the crew." I say with a sad face "Hopefully they won't know how we got the merchandise." I think as I resume eating and listen to everyone else's stories.
JSL
"Well, I hail from Riddleport. I did odd jobs there until I got a position on a ship as a sailor..."
Hmm, thinks Vesh to himself, Perhaps Malcolm and I should sit and exchange stories later. I'd bet that we know some of the same people.
Slidell ran in the front entrance to Ameiko's place full tilt, cloak flapping, and squealed to a stop at the sight of his former combat partners. He made quite a scene bent over, arms outstretched wide for balance, with his familiars wings outstretched behind his head. As one the little group clustered at the entrance turned towards him, as well as several of the other patrons, with expressions that varied from disdain, to amusement, to embarrassment.
Malcolm piped up first. "Someone once told me that a wizard is never late Slidell. It seems to me you are in an awful hurry for someone who isn't late." He finished with a grin.
Slidell straightened up and tugged his vest down while assuming a hurt expression. "I am not late." He replied in an almost pouting tone. "I merely wanted to make an entrance." He gave Malcolm his infamous beaming smile. "It worked, didn't it?!" He asked, indicating the patrons of the pub. (Remember that up until now, Ameiko's hasn't had the pleasure of Slidell's,...patronage.)
Slidell bowed to Nealah, rising with a grin and a quick wink. Nealah's answering smile changed to a look of,... bemusement, at that? But Slidell did not have time to ponder that, as he was already clasping forearms with Vesh, still grinning.
"What's this Slidell?" Vesh asked, returning the grin. "No display of the latest Chelaxian Court fashion tonight?" He indicated Slidell's traveling clothes.
Slidell looked at himself, assuming an indignant expression. "I changed my shirt!" he answered haughtily.
Nose still in the air, he then turned to Ehlissa. And taking her hand, bowed low over it in a traditional court greeting. "Nice dress." He said rising with a grin. "And I like what you've done with your hair. Pulled back, but left long in back. Very Classic."
Without waiting for a response, he turned to clasp forearms with Corran. Managing to wince only slightly at the big rangers' strong grip. "You have a fascinating fighting style. I've heard of an offensive Sword and Shield Style, but I've never seen it before. Do you mind if I watch you practice sometime? I'd love to take notes!" He chattered, sounding like a groupie.
Corran was spared a response by the arrival of Foxglove's servant. Who introduced himself and began to lead them upstairs. At the raised eyebrow and disdainful sniff of the man at Slidell's dinner wear, Slidell looked at his familiar, rolled his own eyes, and muttered, "Alright Already, I can take a hint!"
Clapping his hands together and muttering a quick word, Slidell began brushing off his clothes. As he brushed, the wrinkles fell out, and the clothes began to look like new. After a moment of unusually silent concentration from Slidell, which only Nealah noticed brought a bead of sweat to his forehead, his clothes began to look,...NICE.
The color and style didn't change, but they now looked what one might think of if a Noble decided to 'travel casual'. A quick run of his fingers, and his hair changed from its usual unruliness to the oiled, slicked-back style of a Chelaxian noble.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Slidell confessed in a stage whisper to Vesh, "It won't last long, but it was worth it for the look on his face!" His thumb indicating the servant who was now attempting to catch flies with his mouth.
Following everyone up the stairs, Slidell allowed himself to be arranged with the others without causing a fuss. His familiar launching to the rafters as they entered the private dining room. He face betrayed surprise when he realized that he was seated next to their host, but he quickly recovered, remaining unusually silent through the initial re-introductions and exchange of pleasantries. For some reason this seemed to make Ehlissa, seated across from him, nervous.
Slidell seemed content to sip his wine and merely observe. For now.
'NICE outfit. It could probably pay off the Sandpoint Debt by itself, much less with the jewelry. I wonder how much of that is real? Too bad Veran can't get a closer look at it. He's good with Jewelry. Mostly taking it tho.' He threw a quick glance at his familiar. 'Yep. Mesmerized. I'll have to make sure that "Lord Peacock" leaves with all his rings intact. Ring. He's STILL not wearing that one he removed earlier. I wonder what would happen if I told Ehlissa,...' "Ah, soup!" He exclaimed aloud as the first course arrived. "I don't know what this is." He admitted while sniffing deeply of the aroma from the bowl. "But I think it's my new favorite!" He beamed his irrepressible smile at the entire table. Then proceeded to enjoy his soup, and listen as the first round of dinner chatter began.
Ehlissa sighs with annoyance at Slidell's grandstanding, and once dinner begins and the conversation has turned from herself and Malcolm to percolate round the table, she turns her suspicious gaze on the wizard.
"Mr Stormraven," she begins, "You're really quite a raconteur, but we've yet to hear much about yourself. Please, I'm sure we'd all be fascinated to hear about what has brought you here and where you hail from."
He is obviously a lunatic, and his delight in destruction is rather too ardent for my liking. If he is a devil-friend, then our acquaintance will be at an end.
Ah, soup!" He exclaimed aloud as the first course arrived. "I don't know what this is." He admitted while sniffing deeply of the aroma from the bowl. "But I think it's my new favorite!" He beamed his irrepressible smile at the entire table.
Even Vesh--outwardly dour and inwardly self-absorbed--cannot maintain his trademark frown as Slidell speaks. He isn't sure what tickles his funny-bone more, Slidell's soup-proclamation or the look it evokes on Ehlissa's face.
In one fell swoop, Slidell manages to wipe away the melancholy, preoccupied mood that had been hounding Vesh since this morning. There is something unpredictable about the wizard, to be sure. But Vesh has a suspicion that if he throws in his lot with Slidell and, indeed, the rest of them, they would "die back-to-back for one another," as the Shoanti say. He gets that reassuring feeling from all of them; even Malcolm, with his shady past and questionable motives, can be counted on in a time of need--his crew certainly feels that, Vesh is sure.
"Mr Stormraven," she begins, "You're really quite a raconteur, but we've yet to hear much about yourself. Please, I'm sure we'd all be fascinated to hear about what has brought you here and where you hail from."
Vesh is inwardly thankful for Ehlissa's question for a number of reasons. First, if Slidell starts talking, Vesh may not have to tell his own story at all. Second, Vesh might actually get some indication of the nature of Slidell's friendship with Naelah. Lastly, Slidell is a mage, and given Vesh's abilities, Vesh's ears always perk up if the talk turns to magic. Vesh accepts another pour of wine from the hired servants and listens intently.
Hmmm, thinks Vesh, the inner thankfulness he felt toward Ehlissa earlier dissolving into slight panic. Well, here goes nothing…
“I’ve come to Sandpoint,” Vesh starts, and then draining his cup, he starts over. “I fell in love with the wrong girl,” he says with a weak smile. “Twice.”
“My father is a tent-maker. This may sound ignoble to some of you, but it is a high station in my clan. I was to marry a girl, the Clan Mother’s daughter, but I did not love her. Things became complicated, and—well—I’m not married, am I? And, I am no longer home.”
“Like Malcolm, I have lived the past four years in Riddleport. When I first arrived there, I was young and stupid and would not have lasted long were I not adopted into a clan of a—of a different sort,” says Vesh with a smile, as he remembers the sense of belonging, and a little shudder, as he remembers the violence. Coming out of his reverie, Vesh looks Foxglove in the eye.
“But,” he says, “that is a story for a much less festive occasion than this. It is suffice to say that I left Riddleport for much the same reason I left the Uplands. I seem to have a way with women … just not their fathers!”
"Aye, the sea can be a cruel mistress, but never yet has she betrayed me. I was taught to have a rapport with the endless waves. As long as you respect her and follow her laws the sea will never give you more trouble than you can handle." I reply to Foxglove.
Slidell paused in mid-slurp at Ehlissa's unexpected invitation to tell his own story. He looked at her for a moment, and Ehlissa got the feeling that this time he actually SAW her. With only a slight raise of an eyebrow and turn of one corner of his mouth, Slidell nodded slightly at her as the efficient servant refilled his wine glass.
He took a sip, and saluted their host once more in appreciation of the vintage. Then put down his glass, dried his mouth on his napkin, and self-consciously cleared his throat.
"What is there to say about myself?" He intoned sonorously as he rested his elbows on the table and lightly steepled his fingers together over his wine glass. "I'm merely a mage from Cheliax with a penchant for summoning evil outsiders and a predilection for world conquest." As he said those words, the candles flickered and dimmed, and Vesh felt a chill breeze from somewhere.
In the stunned silence that followed, Slidell locked eyes with Ehlissa. Her eyes wide as she realized what was said, her mouth open, and her spoon frozen halfway from her bowl. He held her gaze for another two heartbeats, then fell back, laughing so hard that he almost tipped his chair over backwards. The candles in the room returned to normal as Slidell caught himself and tried to control his laughter.
"The. Look. On. Your. Face!" he struggled to say between breaths. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself! Well I suppose I could, but where's the fun in that?!? AW, That gets 'em every time." he choked, wiping tears from his eyes. "Really, I've never understood that particular life goal. I mean, what would I do with the world?! I can barely control one bird!" he chuckled while indicating the raven overhead.
He took a sip of wine and sighed again, finally catching his breath. Then he looked at Ehlissa again. And she, despite her indignance, shock, outrage, and,...amusement? Realized that the small smile he was giving her was more,...OPEN than any of the others she had seen him give yet. He continued to look Ehlissa in the eyes as he raised his hands, palms out, in a gesture of peace.
"The truth is, I am from Cheliax. A town not far from the capitol. I do not know whether I am of Noble blood, common stock, or 'Honorable' folk." he added, glancing at Vesh. "I was an orphan. I was fortunate enough to be found and raised by a mage of some, notoriety, because he sensed a promise for 'great mystical potential' within me. So far more 'promise' than 'potential'" He frowned, then continued.
"I grasped the basics quickly enough. Quicker than any of his other students apparently, but for some reasons his applications of the techniques don't,...apply to me. SO, at a loss as to how to proceed with my education, he sent me on a journey to learn new magical techniques. I think he's hoping I'll bring him back some new spells from foreign lands. I have been traveling almost a year, and ended up near Sandpoint. I thought the festival sounded like fun and decided to hang around for a few days. While the festival was certainly exciting, it wasn't what I expected either."
He took another sip of wine, and looked at Ehlissa almost sadly. "So you see, I am neither a Enchanter, enslaving all to my will, nor a Conjurer consorting with Evil entities. I am merely on a journey of self-discovery. Besides, Summoning those things always leaves an, oily taste in my mouth. Yuch!" He added, shivering for emphasis.
"SO, Here you have before you a mage of unrealized potential, who, thanks to a,...rough childhood, has a desire to enjoy life to it's fullest, a volatile temper, and an absolute zero tolerance policy for those who would harm others. Categorize me as you will, as long as you defend others as selflessly as you did yesterday, I will happy to salute you."
And he did so, raising his glass towards Ehlissa, and drinking again.
I pause in mid-drink as the talkative mage boasts to be a devil-summoner with delusions of granduer and laugh with him when he reveals the joke.
Once the laughter has subsided I raise my glass and say "Here's to world-conquering devil summoners, runaways, and sword-weilding noblewomen. I feel privllaged to have become a hero alongside such...illustrious company. May the winds of Fair Fortune blow favorably for us." and drain my glass, feeling slightly more hopeful. Afterall, its always good to have friends, particularly odd ones.
Here are Sli's & Veran's Perception rolls
Slidell accepts a portion of the meat, noting Foxglove's selection from the corner of his eye.
At the toast, Slidell drains his glass, oblivious to anything else around the table at that moment, as he empathically realizes his familiar is obsessively contemplating the rare cut of meat on Foxglove's plate. He glares at the rafters, and sends a strong negative feeling back along the link. 'Don't even THINK about it!' He mentally adds for good measure.
Ehlissa regards the wizard with narrowed eyes, What a buffoon! To openly boast about such terrible things, even in jest! And he thinks I believed him! Such arrogance...
She gives him a smile as he continues... Well, his own hot air seems to have fogged up his senses; I wondered if old Lady Perdasta's lessons on poise would come in useful. And now it has.... Yes, flash him a warm smile. I will find you out, wizard... the others may be blind with your 'charm' to the danger you pose but if you should betray us, I shall not falter in bringing you to justice.
Ehlissa is the soul of courtesy with Slidell henceforth at the meal, but refrains from further in-depth 'conversation' with him.
Naelah, clearly the most uncomfortable of the group, has kept her silence throughout the evening, betraying no emotion and attracting no attention. In fact, so good is she at this, that most of the others forget she is even there. The servants cannot ignore her, however, due to the large wolf sitting patiently just behind her chair. Naelah is wearing her clothes from the day before, but she has obviously washed as there is no longer any crimson in her long white hair. One notes difference is that she seems to have marked her face with odd tribal markings - a streak of blue paint starts at her hairline and travels to the top of her nose, and a matching pair of lines start underneath her eyes, traveling in straight lines to her jawline.
The markings lend Naelah a definite attractive quality, if a 'savage one'. As Slidell becomes more and more outrageous, Naelah seems to almost cringe, hoping that he will not make her bear the brunt of his apparently 'crazed' attentions.
The first moment she actually speaks is to one of the servants - requesting something for her 'dog', sending one of them scurrying off. Oddly, she seems not perturbed by the servants, which, considering how she has reacted to everything else so far, seems a little out of place.
As the meal continues, Naelah holds her silence on her story - she is far more interested in the others.
The markings lend Naelah a definite attractive quality, if a 'savage one'.
I wonder if the markings have any meaning in Shoanti? Vesh tries to hide the fact that he is looking towards Naelah. (Bluff 1d20+3=22) He wonders at her silence, but decides against asking her to tell her own story. Perhaps he will ask her another time.
Failed both of Vesh's perception checks. (1d20-4=13, 1d20-4=4)
Naelah, clearly the most uncomfortable of the group, has kept her silence throughout the evening, betraying no emotion and attracting no attention.
The markings lend Naelah a definite attractive quality, if a 'savage one'. As Slidell becomes more and more outrageous, Naelah seems to almost cringe, hoping that he will not make her bear the brunt of his apparently 'crazed' attentions.
The first moment she actually speaks is to one of the servants - requesting something for her 'dog', sending one of them scurrying off. Oddly, she seems not perturbed by the servants, which, considering how she has reacted to everything else so far, seems a little out of place.
As the meal continues, Naelah holds her silence on her story - she is far more interested in the others.
After mentally berating his familiar, Slidell leans back and looks around the table, still smiling. Even though he greeted Naelah downstairs, he only now seems to realize that he is sitting next to her.
When he realizes that Naelah is avoiding his gaze, he seems confused.
Slidell sits back, and becomes far more silent than his usual wont, eating his dinner. When the efficient servants come by to refill his glass, he holds a hand over the glass, giving a slight shake of his head and a lopsided grin, a mere shadow of his usual beaming smile, to indicate that did not want any more wine right now.
Close observers would say that he did not seem to be sulking, or pouting, or upset in any way. It was as if he was involved in another conversation, and was only partially there.
It was as if he was involved in another conversation, and was only partially there.
Even Vesh, who has never been accused of being the most observant of men, notices the sizable vacuum that Slidell's sudden silence seems to leave in the room. Not being one to advance conversation, Vesh nevertheless uses this as an opportunity to address Corran sitting across the table from him.
"So," he says, somewhat unsure of himself, "Corran. Though we fought shoulder to shoulder yesterday, I realize that we have yet to hear your story." He finishes his last bite of the chowder just before the bowl is whisked away by an able servant.
By the Song, how this meal beats the sea rations I have lived on the past few days! Vesh's mouth waters as he is served from the second course.
Ehlissa excuses herself for a minute, and passes by Naelah. As she does so, she asks "How are you, Naelah? Are you alright?"
I smile as I drink from the snifter "Good stuff, expensive. It would fetch a pretty penny on the market." I think to myself but I'm jolted from my reverie by Foxglove's strange question. "Excuese me?" I asked, puzzeled. "I don't enjoy killing things, sometimes you've just got to do it to finish the job." I say, now uncomfortable.
Ehlissa turns to the nobleman , her eyes like ice, "Is this some kind of joke?" she asks slowly with cold anger.
Slidell sniffs appreciatively at the brandy and savors his sip at the toast, as if he is trying to figure out exactly what it is made of. At Foxglove's question, he lowers his glass to the table and slowly turns and tilts his head as if to get a better view of the question as the others express thier dismay at his statement.
"Perhaps you misunderstood Lord P,...Foxglove." Slidell interjects as the reactions die down but before the garishly dressed host can respond. "My comment was meant as a joke." He shrugs and waves as if batting a fly, "One man's treasure,...yada yada. But you,..." He pauses again briefly, his eyes flicking from point to point on the overly-decorated nobleman as if searching for something that he only just realized was missing.
"Being a 'hero' may be something that some may aspire too. And I don't consider it an ignoble goal." He continued suddenly as if never missing a beat. "But in my experience most 'heroes' are simply normal people who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and manage to survive it. Rather like us, I should think." He adds sparing a quick glance at the rest of the table.
"There is a theory of how the universe works from a distant land called "Karma'. It is similar to our saying of 'You reap what you sow', or 'What goes around comes around'. He continued despite the odd looks he was getting at the apparant change of topic. "The goblins entered the town with mayhem on the brain. They tried to hurt others for no good reason, and they were repaid in kind. I'm glad I was there to help, but I didn't enjoy killing them."
Slidell picked up his snifter again.
"For someone to enjoy killing, why,... they'd have to be crazy." He said all wide-eyed innocence, as he took another sip of brandy while looking at Lord Foxglove.
Ehlissa looks at the wizard from where she is standing behind Naelah, and she says simply in a quiet, cool voice, her eyes locked on Lord Foxglove, "I agree... Slidell. You have stated the matter more eloquently than I could" she says the wizard's name with a slight awkwardness but firmness of purpose.
"If this has been a joke, Lord Foxglove, some ruse by which to humilate us, then I consider it in very poor taste indeed."
"If this has been a joke, Lord Foxglove, some ruse by which to humilate us, then I consider it in very poor taste indeed."
A frown returns to Vesh's face, now notably more red out of anger and indignancy at the noble's obnoxious behavior.
"Perhaps," says Vesh, uncharacteristically forward, "our host was not making a joke." His eyes lock on Foxglove's, and Vesh tips the glass of brandy over onto the tablecloth deliberately--a Varisian insult that indicates that the conversation is over and that--in all likelihood--an enemy has been made.
"I am no murderer." With that, Vesh stands. "You set a fine table, my lord. But your question is an insult to us, who risked our lives to save yours as you hid beneath a cart unarmed and, apparently, unmanned."
I recognize Vesh's insult to Foxglove and decide to try to bail us out before we make an enemy "Well, I think we should be going. I'd like to discuss the disposition of the treasure we got yesterday with you before the night is through." I stand and bow to Foxglove "You set an excellent table Lor Foxglove, but I'm afraid we must leave now. Thank you for your hospitality." I say and make my way from the room in a respectful manner "After all, I don't need another powerful enemy.".
Vesh looks at his companions. "Forgive my outburst," he says. "He was becoming more unnerving. I may not be the brightest lantern on the street, but I'd say that Foxglove had no intention of celebrating our bravery tonight."
He turns to Malcolm, "almost as if he was casing a joint, except we're the joint." He glances at Ehlissa, "if you'll excuse the term, milady."
Looking at the table, and the spilled brandy, Vesh says, "Pity that. It looked to be an expensive brandy." Smiling, he adds, "I'm all dressed up, and the night is young. I believe that I'll see if Ameiko can rustle up a replacement brandy for me. Who's with me?" He casts a hopeful look at his friends.
Slidell listened as Foxglove gave what turned out to be his shortened farewell speech. Despite his earlier stated opinion, he appears to listen politely to Foxglove as he states his opinions and asks his rhetorical questions.
When Foxglove's rhetorical tirade is interrupted by the servant, one could almost see Slidell's ears perk up and tweak forward, as if to catch every syllable. But as the servant whispers into Foxglove's ear, there is a rustle from the rafters, and Slidell glances towards it. The moment is past, and only the tense set of his jaw reveals how Slidell must feel for missing the whispered comment.
As the inevitable comments from his erstwhile companions begin flying, and Tam begins haltingly trying to escort them from the room, Slidell sits eying his Brandy glass while holding it up to the light. Those who observe him see that he is moving his lips in a whispered conversation. And realize that he is replaying the final speech of their departed host, and answering the questions he had posed. Finally his answers grow loud enough to be heard.
"I would have thought THAT one was easy. Because we WERE the last ones standing!" He mutters depreciatively. "As to WHY, well, sometimes you don't ask why. You just do what you know. Or what you are. If everyone waited around to figure out WHY they should do something, selfish or not, nothing would EVER get done!"
With that cryptic statement, Slidell downs the remaining brandy in his glass with a single gulp, and places it firmly on the table. He then quickly reaches out and snags two of the larger pastries from a tray before a servant can whisk it quite out of reach. He attacks the first one with the gleefulness of a child, while the second finds it's way into a pocket. He turns his sugar-flecked smile upon the others.
"Well,...THAT was one of the most entertaining dinners I've ever had!" He announces happily. "I really should get out more often. Books are dependable companions, but boring conversationalists. Dinner parties! THAT'S where the real mental exercise is! Take a note Veran," He added, raising his voice to the rafters, "More social engagements! It's excellent practice for mental acuity!" He turned back to the others. "Who knew that field work could be so much fun?!" He asked, practically dancing on his toes as he shoved the remaining pastry into his smiling mouth.
Slidell brushed a few crumbs from his still-clean but now ordinary-looking clothing. The temporary Prestidigitation fading before their eyes, he pulled out his wide brimmed hat and shoved it onto his once-again unruly hair. He looks at the mess that Vesh deliberately made.
"Such a waste," He says sadly. "Nice touch though!" He adds with a wink at Vesh. "Subtle, yet blatant. I wouldn't have thought of that. I give it an 8 out of 10!" He smiles at Vesh, then turns his gaze on the group.
"Well Vesh, Corran, Ladies,...and Malcolm if your out there!" He says leaning towards the door. "While the food was undeniably excellent, I find the present company even better. I'm thinking a nightcap to top off my sugar buzz, and then I'm off. Got so little to do tomorrow and so much time to do it in!" He stops, puzzled. "Scratch that. Reverse it. Yes. That's right!"
"Shall we?" He asks the group, then begins to offer his elbow to Nealah. But after a glance and a raised eyebrow towards Ehlissa, he changes it to a sweeping bow, indicating that the ladies should precede him.
Walking down the stairs from the odd dinner with Lord Foxglove, Corran turns to his newfound comrades.
"I'm sorry for my silence. I did not mean to be rude, but I get.. shy... when I'm uncomfortable like that." Corran rubs his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.
"I'm used to simple, rustic fare out on the farm. Not extravagant or exotic dishes like Minkai oyster chowder. And I'm not sure if Lord Foxglove meant to insult us, or if that was a twisted sort of compliment in his mind. But my family always says to keep your head down and try not to draw attention from the nobility. Nothing good usually comes of it for a simple soldier."
Corran glances at Ehlissa and blushes slightly. "Um... I didn't mean anything bad about nobles in general, and definitely not about you. Its just that... well, any nobles I'm likely to meet would be officers, and officers don't generally mix with the common troops."
Ehlissa smiles at Slidell, and turns to Corran, "There is nothing common about you Corran. You are worth twice as much as one such as him. Unfortunately, I'm all too familiar with his sort; decadent and perverse." she says.
"Well, I hope you boys have fun, but I think I'm going to go to bed. Good night, all. Lady be with you."
With a elegant poise she turns to go, but if one where to look closely one can see her gnaw her lip in disquiet.