"Perhaps, there is a scholar in town who can help us find out more about this 'Runelord'?"
"We'll do that later though as we still have this killer on the loose. You did say that the killer was a goblin, right?"
"Of course I did!", Grael snaps. "How could I forget what they looked like, after what happened at the festival?"
Targ hefts the pouch of strange gold in his hand. "This guy got any next of kin?" he asks Mark.
Targ hefts the pouch of strange gold in his hand. "This guy got any next of kin?" he asks Mark."None that we know of, sir," replies Mark, awe and respect evident in his voice.
"Fine. I'll just hold onto this for safekeeping then. Evidence." Targ adds the pouch of gold to the tobacco and liquor he already confiscated.
"I'm goin' downstairs to see if I can follow these tracks. See where they head. We might want to keep those books as evidence too," he says over his shoulder as he walks out the door.
Outside, Targ takes a swig of the man's liquor (hair of the dog) and studies the ground for goblin tracks.
Survival (+2 for goblins) (1d20+6=20)
Szaranoth follows the dwarf outside to help him with his search. "I did not tell everything up above. I was suspicious about this Marc, because I did not see him yesterday in the tavern. Libay also talked about an ancient empire called Thassilon. Perhaps that has a connection to those Runelords, Grael was talking about."
Szaranoth whispers to Targ pointing to the large figure watching them, "Who's that mountain? He following us?"
Szaranoth is of medium height (just a little tad on the high side...) with a powerful build and never without a warm and quick smile. Close cropped black hair, green eyes, fine-lined moustache frame his square features. His clothes look a bit washed out, though.
"Someone following us?", asks Grael, catching up with them, panting. "Don't move so fast next time."
Grael is medium build and pale skinned. He wears a hood over his face, but anyone can see he is blind.
The day finds Gerod entering Sandpoint for the first time in many years. His huge frame, at least seven feet in height with massively muscled shoulders arms chest and legs, doesn't even fit in the frame of the mirrored sign outside of the southern entrance to the town. Leaning forward towards it he sweeps the hood of his thick woolen forest green cloak back with his gauntleted left hand and runs his fingers through his dark brown hair. His long hair, held in a loose pony-tail by a leather ring, frames a face that none would call handsome, but which fails to be truly ugly either. A thick brow shades deep blue eyes that seem to shine with the gentleness contained within. His mouth, hiding oddly pointed teeth, turns into a slight frown as he mouths out the words slowly. "Welcome to Sandpoint. Take a moment to see yourself as we see you."
Looking down at himself, with the thick metal scales of his armor shinning slightly in the light just like the brass hilt of the massive bastard sword sheathed at his left him Gerod nods. His big meaty hands shake the dust from his cloak, and try to tighten up the pony tail for a moment. Nodding to himself he reaches under his scale hauberk for the parchment that is there. Looking the envelope over he nods as he tries to read the address printed upon it in his 'father's' steady hand. All he really understand is the name, "Ven Vinder." A smile crosses his lips at the thought. It has been many years since he has seen his father's old friend. Despite everything that has happened recently he couldn't help but feel excited at the idea of at least visiting 'nuncle' Ven and his family. Tucking his father's letter back beneath his hauberk he smiles his sharp toothed smile and walks into the town.
Gerod walks slowly through the streets of Sandpoint, trying to offer a smile to those whom he passes. Then, when he is passing the front of a place called the White Deer he notices two figures standing around looking for something on the ground. A worried expression crosses his face and he quickly looks at his boots to be sure he hasn’t stepped on anything important. Then he looks up and offers them a toothy smile. “Um, looking for something sirs?” His voice is very deep, and seems to come from somewhere within his cavernous chest with just a hint of gravel.
Ingowil walks outside to find her two companions looking for something. She goes over to them, and looks around for something on the ground. It's only then that she looks up to see the huge person.
"Oh... Hi" She says cheerfully, then goes back to looking.
With Szaranoth's help, Targ studies the tracks in the dirt. He stands up, leaning on the stock of his crossbow, and points down the road. "Gods tear it. They head back to the cathedral. And we've already run into the little buggers' spoor there. Looks like this town's got an infestation that goes beyond yesterday's raid."
As the shadow of the big man falls across him, Targ hitches up his belt and looks up the stranger, eyes squinting in the sunlight beneath bushy brows.
"We've already found it, stranger," Targ answers the man's question. "Can we help you with something?" he asks, though it's obvious that Targ has no interest in helping him. He adds under his breath, "Tall drink o' water, ain't he?"
Targ is a stout dwarf, with flaming red hair and beard tied in a complicated knot. His skin is tanned and weathered from time spent outdoors. He's wearing a chain shirt, with a waraxe on his back and a klar on his belt, which is sewn with rows of small teeth.
The tall man looks rather surprised at the cheerful greeting, and blinks twice as if he doesn't beleive it. Then the voice of the dwarf cuts in. Looking down at the flame haired dwarf and shakes his head. "No." He says as he turns away and begins walking down the street.
His eyes raise up towards the buildings raising up on either side of him, and his nostrils flare slightly as he detects a hint of someone cooking chicken. His stomach rumbles slightly causing him to grimace. Turning his head back towards the small gathering he offers them a smile, "Um, you would not happen to know where Ven Vinder's store is would you?"
Gerod's head turns towards the voice by the inn doorway and his eyes widen at the mention of a body. He swallows slowly, feeling his throat dry suddenly, and backs up a few steps. Then, turning around and trying to whistle a half remembered tune he walks away from the scene. His eyes are darting this way and that as he walks, trying to ascertain whether or not people noticed him so close to the other group. His gauntleted hand rubs the hilt of his sword nervously as he moves deeper and deeper into the town. He'll have to find someone else to ask directions from.
"Yeh, we're done," Targ says when none of his companions speak up. "Let's see where these tracks lead. Maybe the cathedral's lost another body. Anybody notice anything suspicious about that big guy?"
"Yeh, we're done," Targ says when none of his companions speak up. "Let's see where these tracks lead. Maybe the cathedral's lost another body. Anybody notice anything suspicious about that big guy?"
"I thought he seemed kind of nice." Ingowil say, while looking up from her search.
"Nothing suspicious, but perhaps as new to the town as we were."
"He was a big one, might be useful if the goblins try another raid. We can check that place where he said he's staying - Ven Vinder's? - later. Now I want to see where these tracks go."
Studying the ground, Targ follows the tracks, assuming his companions will follow.
Szaranoth goes after Targ who follows the footprints of the goblins.
Grael follows, although he looks a bit uncertain.
|
For Gerod
But first you have to find Ven Vinder’s place, else you will be among the homeless. Not far away you can see a crowd gathering around a crying lady, child in her arms. Perhaps one of the people there can tell you the location to Ven Vinder’s place.
For Theruska and Caliope
Presently, you are under orders from the mayor to talk to Ven Vinder about rumors of an unlicensed wine cellar he is supposedly keeping.
The route that you have taken brings you to a small crowd. A crying lady and her child the obvious object of their attention.
For Grael, Szaranoth and Targ
For Grael
Making small talk with Theruska on the way:
"So do you think this wine cellar could have contributed in some way to the Goblin attack? I wouldn't think that a wine cellar would be cause for a visit from the militia."
She notices the commotion caused by the crowd and pauses to make sure that everything is alright.
"Is there a problem here people? Woman, what causes you distress?"
Making small talk with Theruska on the way:
** spoiler omitted **
Getting to the crowd he lets his partner talk, keeping an eye open for any suspicious behaviour of the assambled people. His height lets him easily keep a good overview.
Grael stops dead. He looks like he's gonna be sick. "I think I may know what it is."
Szaranoth stops as Grael's heavy breathing and ominous words reach his ear. "You mean, this crowd is worthy to investigate? Do have any notion about what happened, Grael?"
"I'm beginnin' to think joinin' the militia was a bad idea," Targ grumbles. He takes one last look at the tracks, as if to fix them in his memory, then loads his crossbow.
"Right. Let's go see what all the hubbub is." He heads toward the crowd, still muttering and grumbling.
Szaranoth stops as Grael's heavy breathing and ominous words reach his ear. "You mean, this crowd is worthy to investigate? Do have any notion about what happened, Grael?"
"It's...just a guess. I just saw a man a a child lying dead. Murdered. This may be linked to that, or it may not. My visions are not always true." Grael says, shuddering.
"If it is connected, Grael, then it is definitely a job for us."
Szaranoth goes to the crowd, trying to join Targ as he apporaches the people in front of the house.
"Can we help?"
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|
"If it is connected, Grael, then it is definitely a job for us."
Szaranoth goes to the crowd, trying to join Targ as he apporaches the people in front of the house.
"Can we help?"
The crying woman sees you (Szaranoth) and she pleads, "Please you have to save my husband and son! Please!" She clutches her baby to her chest.
Caliope nudges Theruska and nods towards the other militia members.
She then turns back to the woman and says, "fear not woman. We shall endeavour to help your family escape from whatever predicament they have become entangled in. If you would be so kind as to furnish us with the details we would be only too happy to assist you."
"We're with the militia," Targ snaps authoritatively. "What's going on here? Where's your husband and son, ma'am?"
"Please, madam, tell us in short words, what has happened."
Caliope nudges Theruska and nods towards the other militia members.
Theruska nods accordingly as Caliope nudged him. He keeps on the ready, looking over the crowd, and keeping an eye on the other tall person.
Grael looks rather unnerved by the whole thing, and stays behind the others.
After a short while Szaranoth gets impatient. "Grael? Targ? Follow me. This woman has obviously lost her voice." Szaranoth enters the building. Inside of the building, Szaranoth stops and waits for the others to arrive. "Grael, what did your vision show you? Shall we go up to the roof, down into the cellar or try to find them here on the ground floor?"
After a short while Szaranoth gets impatient. "Grael? Targ? Follow me. This woman has obviously lost her voice." Szaranoth enters the building. Inside of the building, Szaranoth stops and waits for the others to arrive. "Grael, what did your vision show you? Shall we go up to the roof, down into the cellar or try to find them here on the ground floor?"
Grael hesitantly follows. "I saw...a man and a child, probably his son. It was...I believe it was a goblin that killed them. The man's hand was...inside a hole...that's all I saw."
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The woman calms down when she hears that members of the Militia are present. "My husband and child are injured. They are in our house. Please you have to come."
The woman, carrying her child, begins to lead the party and the onlookers to her house.
You stand before a two storey house. The first floor is constructed of stone while the second is of wood. The entire structure is painted white. It seems that the chaos of yesterday did not reach here.
The door to the house is open. "They are on the second floor. Please save them.
For Grael
For Theruska
The crowd of onlookers numbering about fifty or so converse among themselves as they watch what the militia will do.
Ingowil says, "You guys go on in and I shall help maintain order here."
For Everyone
Spot DC 15
Radavel:
Theruska bows to get through the door of the house and follows the others on up to the second floor.
Caliope follows the woman and notes that the other speakers are moving with her as well.
When they get to the house she enters with the others, but pauses inside to introduce herself and Theruska.
"How should we handle this situation? I am thinking that we send the more martial members in first and myself and any practitioners of the mystic arts should follow. Once we have asertained what dangers lie ahead, we can then more accurately determine a course of action."
"Right. Close quarters, so be wary." Trage puts away his crossbow and draws his waraxe and klar. "Keep a sharp eye out. If it is goblins (and who else would it be?), you'd be surprised where the little buggers can hide."
Targ heads inside, scanning for any signs of goblins in the house.
"I see you are also members of the militia" Szaranoth says, pointing to the small banderoles Calliope and theruska sport on their lapels, as the two newcomers enter the house. "Come on in, we need every help we can get after the turmoil of yesterday's festivities. The goblin attack and the murder are bringing the people of this town down. We need to do everything we can, to keep the spirit up. Upstairs. Follow me."
With that Szaranoth ascends the stairs following the solemn dwarf.
"Yeah, we got put into duty yesterday after the mess with the goblins." Theruska explains in his deep rolling voice, then following Szaranoth upstairs.
"The defence of theses people was something we had to assist with and so we accepted Militia positions. Now it would seem that those events may not be fully over yet."
She casts a Shield on herself while she waits for the fightery types to head upstairs and then follows them up.