Gengar walks directly over to Kinmorn. "Hey, do you believe people can see into the future? Does your god give you that kind of power?"
Not seeming to realize that everyone does not feel the same excitement at the possibility of taking this battle to the goblin camp, Mitnal laughs and says "Sorry. Your question made me think of my mother. She says 'Few people see the future. Even fewer see the present.' ... I can see the future clearly. I see myself killing goblins in the future."
... Also, we have no idea how large this Goblin tribe is. We might be occupied for a long time while the city is left undefended. It looks like there are few people who can actually fight."
... it would still take days to find the right tribe....
"Perhaps we should get started then," says Mitnal intending to be helpful.
Gengar walks directly over to Kinmorn. "Hey, do you believe people can see into the future? Does your god give you that kind of power?"
Kinmorn is a bit taken by surprise by the question and laughs without meaning to.
"I'm not a prophet," says Kinmorn, "But we are taught that the gods can foresee future events and at one time all flowed according to their divine wills in a preset pattern. Now the future is more uncertain but we are taught there are still those who can look into the future. I notice however that often their readings can have a number of interpretations. There is one woman here in town who some think can divine their futures for them. She is held in high respect by her own people."
Ruano sits quiently for a moment, considering the tracks and the discussion of revenge and prophecy. After a little while, Spot butts him with he head, breaking his reverie.
"Violence, in itself," he says, to no one in particular, "is not unnatural. Animals fight for many things. For food. For mates. For territory. Nor does nature consider the dead sacred. But these things are only natural when done for natural purposes. Goblins, like all thinking beings, are not purely bound to natural desires. However, that does not matter for our purposes. If you attack a bear cub, it is certain that you will be purused by its mother. The reason for this is simple, to teach the lesson, to you and your descendants, that the penalty for attacking a cub is to slain by a bear. This is not anger, or malice. This is nature's justice. It cannot return what was lost, but it maintains the peace."
Ruano sits quiently for a moment, considering the tracks and the discussion of revenge and prophecy. After a little while, Spot butts him with he head, breaking his reverie.
"Violence, in itself," he says, to no one in particular, "is not unnatural. Animals fight for many things. For food. For mates. For territory. Nor does nature consider the dead sacred. But these things are only natural when done for natural purposes. Goblins, like all thinking beings, are not purely bound to natural desires. However, that does not matter for our purposes. If you attack a bear cub, it is certain that you will be purused by its mother. The reason for this is simple, to teach the lesson, to you and your descendants, that the penalty for attacking a cub is to slain by a bear. This is not anger, or malice. This is nature's justice. It cannot return what was lost, but it maintains the peace."
Mitnal listens intently but is unsure if he understands what he hears. After Ruano is done, he turns to Shantare and says "So, he means we kill goblins, right?"
Mitnal listens intently but is unsure if he understands what he hears. After Ruano is done, he turns to Shantare and says "So, he means we kill goblins, right?"
"What?" Shantare says, looking off at the goblin tracks, obviously not listening to the rest. "Are we getting back to town?"
Mitnal listens intently but is unsure if he understands what he hears. After Ruano is done, he turns to Shantare and says "So, he means we kill goblins, right?"
"It may just come to that," says the mayor, giving the halfling a quizzical look. "But for now, there is still more pressing work to be done. Still, keep your eyes and ears open, and if you uncover anything interesting, report it to myself or the sheriff at once."
"But be careful. There are hidden dangers in Sandpoint, and people you don't want as enemies. Don't go poking any hornets' nests with sticks. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some other matters to attend to. Baelor, with me please."
The mayor and the sheriff walk back to the cathedral, leaving you all standing in the boneyard with Father Zantus, who is lost in his own thoughts.
As the low gray clouds have been threatening to do all day, a late afternoon drizzle begins to fall.
As the low gray clouds have been threatening to do all day, a late afternoon drizzle begins to fall.
"Ah...great..." Jessa grumbles, pulling up the hood on her cloak, "A perfectly miserable day to go with a perfectly miserable morning after a perfectly miserable goblin attack..."
She looks around at the others before finally regarding Kinmorn. "Maybe we should get out of the rain?" she suggests, "Any tracks left behind won't last long now. And I for one am still curious about the significance of these events. As a Sandpoint local, you seem to know more about what's going on than the rest of us, Kinmorn. Would you care to discuss things over drinks or an early dinner at the Rusty Dragon? I'd like to know more about Father Tobyn and the late unpleasantness they mentioned. It seems to me as if something more is going on in Sandpoint than a mere goblin raid. And I don't need to be a diviner to pick up on that."
"What do the rest of you think?" she asks everyone else, "We did pretty well together last night. Maybe we can help unravel this mystery, too?"
As the low gray clouds have been threatening to do all day, a late afternoon drizzle begins to fall."Ah...great..." Jessa grumbles, pulling up the hood on her cloak, "A perfectly miserable day to go with a perfectly miserable morning after a perfectly miserable goblin attack..."
She looks around at the others before finally regarding Kinmorn. "Maybe we should get out of the rain?" she suggests, "Any tracks left behind won't last long now. And I for one am still curious about the significance of these events. As a Sandpoint local, you seem to know more about what's going on than the rest of us, Kinmorn. Would you care to discuss things over drinks or an early dinner at the Rusty Dragon? I'd like to know more about Father Tobyn and the late unpleasantness they mentioned. It seems to me as if something more is going on in Sandpoint than a mere goblin raid. And I don't need to be a diviner to pick up on that."
"What do the rest of you think?" she asks everyone else, "We did pretty well together last night. Maybe we can help unravel this mystery, too?"
"The Rusty Dragon? Good. Very good." says Mitnal with a wide smile.
Mitnal listens intently but is unsure if he understands what he hears. After Ruano is done, he turns to Shantare and says "So, he means we kill goblins, right?"
"Perhaps. We must be wary, here. We would not want our motherbear to wander into a pack of wolves, or leave her den alone for too long. We are thinking beings. I think it would be prudent to find out exactly what happened, before we act."
"Ah...great..." Jessa grumbles, pulling up the hood on her cloak, "A perfectly miserable day to go with a perfectly miserable morning after a perfectly miserable goblin attack..."
She looks around at the others before finally regarding Kinmorn. "Maybe we should get out of the rain?" she suggests, "Any tracks left behind won't last long now. And I for one am still curious about the significance of these events. As a Sandpoint local, you seem to know more about what's going on than the rest of us, Kinmorn. Would you care to discuss things over drinks or an early dinner at the Rusty Dragon? I'd like to know more about Father Tobyn and the late unpleasantness they mentioned. It seems to me as if something more is going on in Sandpoint than a mere goblin raid. And I don't need to be a diviner to pick up on that."
"What do the rest of you think?" she asks everyone else, "We did pretty well together last night. Maybe we can help unravel this mystery, too?"
Ruano's stomach rumbles. He still hasn't gotten his breakfast! "That sounds like a good plan."
"I'm not a prophet," says Kinmorn, "But we are taught that the gods can foresee future events and at one time all flowed according to their divine wills in a preset pattern. Now the future is more uncertain but we are taught there are still those who can look into the future. I notice however that often their readings can have a number of interpretations. There is one woman here in town who some think can divine their futures for them. She is held in high respect by her own people."
"Aye, I have had dealings with her. I almost think she tried to warn me about the goblins...but that was only part of her reading and I have no idea what she might mean." Gengar furls his brow a moment.
The dwarf laughs. "Eh, I think the Basketweaver's mother had it right. Nevermind."
Gengar stands around while everyone finished their musing and the mayor gives his leave.
"I'm with the ranger, now what? Breakfast?"
Gengar stands around while everyone finished their musing and the mayor gives his leave."I'm with the ranger, now what? Breakfast?"
Shantare glares up at the rain, and sighs. "Anywhere out of the rain would be fine by me." She hurries off towards the Rusty Dragon, hoping the others would follow.
The walk down to the Rusty Dragon is enough to get everyone nice and damp, so you're all in a fairly subdued mood by the time you get there. Your mood seems to be matched by the sparse crowd inside. The smell of wet campfire seems to saturate the town and follow you everywhere you go. By the time you gather around a table, it begins to dawn on you that it is you who smell like a campfire.
The few other people in the common room sit quietly. Nobody really speaks to each other, and mostly when they do, they do so in hushed tones.
Kynni approaches the table soon after your arrival. Even she seems subdued, but a smile still graces her face when she sees you.
"I can see you bunch are as lively as the rest of these stiffs. Glad to see you're all still here, though. Bethana Corwin lost a nephew in the raid, and one of our guests was killed, along with his wife. They were visiting from Korvosa. Ameiko is right now trying to find someone back there to inform of their deaths, in between consoling Bethana and trying to run the Dragon. Not that business has been that great today..."
"Oh, I am so sorry, where are my manners? What can I get you all?"
"Oh, I am so sorry, where are my manners? What can I get you all?"
"Fishcakes. Please," Mitnal says eagerly.
When she's gone, Mitnal points at his blue hide-shirt made of some kind of scales and says "Ask me about my armour! Go ahead. Ask me."
Kinmorn, finds he has no appetite. Perhaps it is because he ate heartily after awaking. Perhaps it is the distress of the discovery that his mentor's body had been stolen.
"Just something to drink. Milk or juice, whichever you have on hand," Kinmorn says.
"You were asking about the late unpleasantness," Kinmorn says to Jessa after placing his order. "It's what the townsmen call an unpleasant few months we had some years back. There were a series of gruesome murders. Everyone was scared. Doors began to be locked at night. Everyone was fearful that they would be next. Finally Hemlock and some of the other guards tracked the killer down to his lair. He was a man we had trusted, a quaint woodcarver who fashioned birds. Little did we realize he was a demon worshiper. He lived on the island just to the northwest of town. His name was Stoot but everyone just calls him Chopper now. After his death... after his death we thought things would go back to normal and that... that was when the church burned down. Father Tobyn and his daughter were trapped inside and died. The flames were very hot..."
Kinmorn shakes his head as he recalls the unpleasant memories.
"Oh, I am so sorry, where are my manners? What can I get you all?"
"Soup, if you have anything simmering, with some crusty bread. Perhaps some fruit." Spot looks up expectantly. "Fine, Spot. You'd better behave. I'm sorry, can I also have something raw for my companion. And the soup bone, if you please."
"Whatever you have that is steaming hot" Shantare says to the lady, dripping and shivering. She settles down into her chair, and looks around at the rest of the inn.
"Hot spiced wine for my belly," the dwarf says trying to muster some cheer.
"You were asking about the late unpleasantness," Kinmorn says to Jessa after placing his order. "It's what the townsmen call an unpleasant few months we had some years back. There were a series of gruesome murders. Everyone was scared. Doors began to be locked at night. Everyone was fearful that they would be next. Finally Hemlock and some of the other guards tracked the killer down to his lair. He was a man we had trusted, a quaint woodcarver who fashioned birds. Little did we realize he was a demon worshiper. He lived on the island just to the northwest of town. His name was Stoot but everyone just calls him Chopper now. After his death... after his death we thought things would go back to normal and that... that was when the church burned down. Father Tobyn and his daughter were trapped inside and died. The flames were very hot..."
"Sounds like more than a bit of 'unpleasantness' then," Jessa softly responds, "I'm sorry for your loss. And I'm sorry for Sandpoint's loss. It seems the goblin attack has affected many more people, and reopened old wounds."
She looks around the room, feeling everyone's depression like a wet blanket on top of her already damp clothes. "It's too bad there's no storytelling tonight...or maybe a bard...to liven the mood," she says.
Her eyes wander until they come back around to Mitnal and the barbarian's eagerness to talk about his armor. "Okay...I'll bite," she answers him, "What about your armor?"
Her eyes wander until they come back around to Mitnal and the barbarian's eagerness to talk about his armor. "Okay...I'll bite," she answers him, "What about your armor?"
Mitnal is about to respond when he feels as if a shadow has fallen across the room. The lightness he has felt since releasing himself to the rage and joy of battle -- the battlebliss as some call it -- is gone. "I feel like someone ... or something ... has died," he says. "No. I know people died. I just mean ..." He looks around the room and sees for the first time that people are grieving, that their lives have been shattered, that loved ones were lost, and that the illusion of safety townsfolk had carefully crafted had been dispelled.
Suddenly,he doesn't feel like sharing the story of how he got his hide shirt. He feels like allowing the shadow to swallow him as it seems to have swallowed many in this room.
It takes a minute for Mitnal to steel himself. When he leaps up to the space from which stories are told this time, he does so with confidence ... feigned confidence ... but more than he showed just a couple of nights ago.
"Townsfolk and visitors!" he says gesturing towards a blue-scaled hide shirt upon which had been embossed images of fox, a turtle, and a hawk. "Ask me how I got this beautiful armour!"
... "While, since you asked," Mitnal smiled "I will tell you the story of my coming of age."
"In my tribe, it is tradition for a boy of around thirteen suns to be sent out to hunt, naked and alone. The success of this hunt is the proof of his manhood and he wears the furs, teeth, or feathers of the animals he catches for many years. Most return with a rabbit fur, few with anything more. There was a boy in my village who returned with an enormous buck ...," Mitnal pauses as, for some inexplicable reason, Vinder's face the 'night of the coins' springs to his mind. "He wore the antlers and a vest made from its hide and had his choice of any girl in the village. ... I envied him and waited for my turn. I swore that I would return with nothing less impressive than what he wore."
"When my turn came at the early age of twelve, my father and mother wished me well and a good hunt and they, with all the other villagers turned their backs on me refusing to look at me again until I was a man. I travelled for many days and nights and ignored smaller game. I wanted a great prize for my first hunt. I saw nothing but rabbits and foxes. Refusing smaller game, I waited too long and became hungry and thirsty. Soon I grew weak. ... What a fool I had been. If I waited much longer, I would be too weak to hunt at all."
"On the fourth day of my hunt, I spied a skinny, raggedy little fox that seemed almost as starved as I was. A fox was not a great kill, but it was the best I could hope for now as weak as I was. I waited behind a rock and when the fox passed by, I sprung like a cat and tumbled in the dirt with the fox in my arms. Pinning him against the ground, I had to catch my breath before I could reach up to snap his neck. Just as I was about to take his life and thank the Brother Fox for this gift, the fox spoke in a voice as clear as the one I am using now."
"'Are you so hungry, Shoanti, that you would eat a skinny little fox like me? Surely you could catch bigger game,' he said."
"'In fact, no, Mr. Fox, I can not,' I replied, 'I am not yet a man and this is my first hunt alone. I am hungry and you will feed me. I am cold and you will clothe me. Do not fear, I will thank Brother Fox for your gift to me. You can die in peace.'"
"'Yes, yes, that's fine,' replied the fox coyly 'But I think you will not be fed enough. I have a better idea. I know how you could kill a giant gecko. Wouldn't that feed you better?'"
"Actually, the idea of eating a lizard did not appeal to me but to come home with such a beast over my shoulders would make me a legend amongst my tribes. And to do this at the age of eleven and alone!! The fox had my full attention."
"'First, you must get some round white stones from the river bank. Let go of me and I will show you the ones I mean,' said the fox. I was not so easily fooled however. Instead, as tired as I was, I carried the fox. For his part, the fox enjoyed the ride and eventually curled up around my shoulders but I kept ahold of his tail so he could not leap off."
"It took half the day before we got to the river. Once we got there, I soon found the round white stones that the fox told me about. But before I could take them, the fox said 'But you will need something to hold them in and you are hungry. Let me call to my friend the turtle.'"
"The fox then spoke words I could not understand but soon a large turtle poked his head above the water and angrily hissed 'Why fox! What scheme have you cooked up now?'"
"'Great turtle, Lord of the Rivers and the Water Paths, we have need of your shell. This poor boy is on a great hunt and will honour you all of his days if you lend him your shell to carry these stones in'."
"After much flattery, the turtle proudly agreed that his shell made not only a beautiful bowl, but that it was an appropriate bowl to use on a hunt as important as a boy's first hunt, and he squirmed out of his shell. As soon as he had, the fox leapt off of my shoulders and snapped his sharp teeth on the turtle's neck. I was furious with the fox but such is the way of the animals and it is not my place to judge. The fox and I roasted the turtle in his own shell and enjoyed a hearty soup. Once it was done, the fox was about to escape but I grabbed him by his tail again 'You are not leaving until I have my giant gecko!' I said angrily. 'The turtle has done his part for my hunt and we have thanked the Spirit of the Rivers and Water Paths, now we must do ours.'"
"'Fine, fine, I was just stretching my legs after such a hearty lunch,' lied the fox. 'Let's continue. Fill up that shell with the whitest and roundest stones you can find. Be careful, they must all be about the size of your fist.' I did as the fox commanded and then he hopped back up on my shoulders and told me to head to the Cliffs of the Mighty Hawks. I carried the very heavy bowl of white stones and the lazy red fox for miles across the burning sands still not sure what the fox had in mind."
"When we got to the cliff, the fox got very excited and started licking his lips and prancing on my shoulder. 'Up! Up! Up, my boy! Climb the cliff! Climb the cliff!' which I did without question for I had grown used to obeying the sneaky little beast. I climbed the cliff but it was a great struggle with the fox on my shoulders and a turtle shell full of white stones in one hand. I climbed and I climbed until finally we reached the recess where the mighty hawk nested. When we got there, the hawk flapped it's wings furiously and said 'FOX! I have told you never to come here!! It is not enough that those reptiles try to steal my eggs but you come as well'."
"The fox replied 'Oh, Mighty Hawk, Lord of the Skies. This boy is Shriikirri-Quah, one of the Hawk Clan, and is on his hunt. He will not hurt you or your eggs for his people honour you and wear with pride each feather that you drop from your glorious wings' and the hawk believed him because it was true 'And I have already eaten a delicious turtle soup today as you can see from the shell the boy is carrying. No, we are here to help you in fact.'"
"'Me?' asked the hawk 'How would you help me?'"
"'Tell him, boy, tell the hawk what you intend to do,' the fox urged."
"'I will kill the giant gecko who dares to hunt your eggs Red-feathered Hawk,' I said, though I barely believed that myself 'The fox will tell you how.'"
"Soon the fox explained his plan to the hawk and we all agreed it was a clever plan. It involved the hawk leaving and flying high in the sky so that the gecko would come to eat the hawk's eggs but we would trick him instead."
"'But,' asked the hawk 'How will I keep my eggs warm if I am high in the sky? Someone must sit on my eggs.'"
"'Welllll,' smiled the fox 'It would be my honour to keep the eggs warm for you Mighty Hawk'"
Mitnal glanced at Blackwing as he said: "An old Shoanti saying goes 'Though none should, all believe The Fox who is as cunning but less kind than The Raven.'"
"Soon, the hawk was flying high above us making sure that all the geckos knew that his nest was empty. The fox used his nose to roll the five eggs out of the nest and behind a rock and then had me put my round white stones in the nest in place of the eggs."
"We waited for so long, hiding behind the rock while the fox kept the real eggs warm with his furry body. Soon, a giant blue and yellow gecko slithered and crawled over the lip of the rock and into the nest. Seeing this from high above, the hawk cried out and began to plunge back to the earth. Perhaps he had forgotten the plan or did not fully trust the fox. The gecko, hearing the hawk, swallowed the round white stones without pausing and soon had a belly heavy with rock. Leaving only one white stone behind in his hurry, he ran to the cliff intended to descend but found himself suddenly grown so heavy with his belly of rock that he fell to the ground below, snapping his back. I turned to thank the fox for his ingenious plan, and saw five broken eggshells and the fox licking his lips as he fled the cave before the hawk could return. Furious now, I grabbed the last white stone and threw it after the fox. The hawk never forgave me and he swore never to trust the fox again."
"I returned to my tribe with the body of a giant blue gecko around my shoulders and became a hero to all the girls in my tribe who had not yet chosen a mate. At my manhood ceremony, I wore this hide armour and I have worn it ever since. Look at it! Isn't it beautiful?" asked Mitnal opening it to show the lining. "And look at the inside. It's lined with fox fur."
Mitnal turns away to hide his smile, sure that all assembled believed his tale.
"That is quite a tale." Shantare says to Mitnal. "Whether or not it is true is not for me to decide, but it is a fine tale nonetheless." She raises an eyebrow and smiles slyly, obviously not believing him.
"That is quite a tale." Shantare says to Mitnal. "Whether or not it is true is not for me to decide, but it is a fine tale nonetheless." She raises an eyebrow and smiles slyly, obviously not believing him.
"The tail? Yes, it is quite a tail," he says as he turns and reveals that a foxes tail hangs off of the leather straps used to tighten the shirt at the lower back. He waggles his tail suggestively at Shantare before returning to his seat with a wolfish grin.
Ruano chuckles. The fox is clever, and the gecko stupid, but neither can truly speak. "You tell a great tale, Shoanti. Did you catch the deceitful fox, or is the lining made from his brothers?"
Ruano chuckles. The fox is clever, and the gecko stupid, but neither can truly speak. "You tell a great tale, Shoanti. Did you catch the deceitful fox, or is the lining made from his brothers?"
"I may have ... what is the word ... embellished the story a little but I caught the fox and the gecko. The klar is made from a different lizard though. It was one of my father's many klar," says Mitnal still fairly pleased with himself.
"Yesterday, we saved many lives but look," Mitnal says waving to the glum and scared patrons of The Rusty Dragon. "It seems the battle is not over."
With that Mitnal jumps from his seat again barely having sat down and begins to circulate and make small talk with various patrons. While he thinks of himself as appropriately quiet, he now acts like a soldier trying to boost morale. Whether he realizes it or not, he is acting very much like his late father would at a warcamp. He goes from table to table asking about the health of each family and cheerfully recounting stories of the battle with goblins flying further and further from his hammer blows with each retelling.
Kinmorn watches the big Shoanti warrior for a moment and feels a little guilty. He is feeling sorry for himself and there are duties to be performed.
"That's a good man," says Kinmorn to no one in particular and then rising, he too goes and talks with others in the room. But where Mitnal tries to lift spirits by talking, Kinmorn does what he can to listen, trying especially to note the names of those who might be injured and in need of healing.
'There will be time to grief tonight,' he tells himself at first, but the social interaction bouys him and his own inner struggles are soon forgotten for the moment.
Ugh. Sorry gang. Busy day yesterday and busy today. I may not be able to post until tonight or tomorrow.
I will say that Mitnal and Kinmorn are doing a good job of lifting the mood of the room.
And I loved Mitnal's story.
Shantare sits back in her chair, looking around the room. They are all in need of cheering up. She thinks while looking at Mitnal.
Gengar sits and watches his friends and the crowd. His lids grow heavy. The Basketweaver stands and somewhat uncharacteristically begins to tell another tale. These events have changed us, he thinks. He slips in and out of half sleep listening to the rain outside.
The lady running from the burning house intermingles with the knife-wielding twins on the moonlit beach. A goat-man dances with a fox and a lizard. A butterfly flutters nearby. She smiles.
The dwarf snorts and snaps awake. He looks around to see if anyone is watching and mutters something about praying to hide the fact he was asleep.
Gengar gets up, stretches, and wanders closer to Shantare.
"Tell me, lass, ya fight with that rapier but ya carry that big ol' crossbow. Are ya any good with tha' thing? My aim was a wee bit off during the big fight and I thought you might have a pointer or two."
Kinmorn watches the big Shoanti warrior for a moment and feels a little guilty. He is feeling sorry for himself and there are duties to be performed. "That's a good man," says Kinmorn to no one in particular and then rising, he too goes and talks with others in the room.
Jessa watches Kinmorn leave to mingle with the tavern's patrons as well, still pondering Mitnal's story. "A good man, yes...and a strange one sometimes, too," she whispers to herself as the big Shoanti comes back to their table.
"Embellished or not...that's a fine tale," she greets him, "I'm glad I asked about your armor. And even happier you shared your story with everyone else. It might lift the mood a little."
However, Jessa herself seems less inclined to storytelling tonight. She too grows introspective, examining the past 24 hours over and over in her mind. 'Something strange is happening in Sandpoint,' she thinks, 'An organized goblin attack...unprovoked. The grave of a beloved priest...looted. Someone decidedly non-goblin, with knowledge of the town and Father Tobyn, planned it all. But who? Without scouring the countryside for goblins to interrogate, what other path remains to unravel this mystery?'
Jessa glances across the table at Gengar and Shantare discussing the finer points of ranged combat with crossbows and throwing axes. Then to Mitnal and Ruano. And finally to Kinmorn. 'The priest,' she muses, 'Whoever did this had a connection to Father Tobyn before he died in the fire. Or perhaps his daughter. What was her name? Nualia? As painful as it might be for Kinmorn to re-examine the death of his former mentor, we should probably start there. Maybe his death wasn't an accident? Maybe he held the key to something important? Maybe someone needs his body for a specific purpose?'
Jessa looks at Gengar again, remembering the dwarf's suggestion about necromancers. 'Perhaps,' she concedes, 'If Father Tobyn somehow crossed paths with a necromancer, it could be possible that such a wizard intends to use his body...perhaps to speak with the priest's spirit...forcing it to reveal some secret that can't otherwise be divined. Or maybe another priesthood...a rival perhaps...wants something similar? I wonder what god Father Tobyn followed? And what enemies he might have had because of his faith? Perhaps that where we should start...'
She watches Kinmorn as he speaks with a Sandpoint family at one of the other tables. The young priest wears a serious, supportive, almost nurturing expression. 'Maybe these answers lie with you,' Jessa thinks.
Hi my lovely players. Sorry I've been so silent lately. Things have been very busy lately. Today, tomorrow and Sunday are also busy, but I should have some time to check in and move things along. Starting Monday I'll be a lot more available.
So, kick back, roleplay a little longer or decide what to do from here (the rest of the day, this day after the festival and attack, passes pretty uneventfully), and I'll check in later.
Thanks for your patience, peeps.
Gengar gets up, stretches, and wanders closer to Shantare.
"Tell me, lass, ya fight with that rapier but ya carry that big ol' crossbow. Are ya any good with tha' thing? My aim was a wee bit off during the big fight and I thought you might have a pointer or two."
"Yes, I can fight with my crossbow as well." Shantare says to Gengar. "I just didn't have time to get it out during the fight. I'm not much of a teacher, but I could help you some." She suddenly looks very high-and-mighty, with people asking her for help.
Mitnal's voice comes booming from across the room. Whatever shyness and reserve kept this man in check has completely disappeared but there is no indication he has been drinking.
"Let's do the teasing song!" he shouts then before anyone can ask 'What's the teasing song?' he begins:
"Ta-la-ta-la ...
I've got a friend whose pouch is always full,
If you know who I mean give his beard a pull,
My pouch on the other hand suffers a curse,
'cause the thinner mine gets the fatter his purse
... Ta-la-ta-la, Gengar!
...
... Ta-la-ta-la Gengar!!
...
Pssst... your turn. Do someone."
Kinmorn, hearing the Shoanti sing, is forced to laugh and he looks to see if the dwarf will indeed take up the song.
When Gengar hesitates, Kinmorn, making his way back to the table, sings out,
"We have a friend whose heart is big,
If you know who I mean give his drink a swig,
He can talk with the birds and fight for the right
but don't leave any fishcakes within his sight...
....or he'll eat them... Mitnal....
....till they're all gone... Mitnal..."
Kinmorn, hearing the Shoanti sing, is forced to laugh and he looks to see if the dwarf will indeed take up the song.
When Gengar hesitates, Kinmorn, making his way back to the table, sings out,
"We have a friend whose heart is big,
If you know who I mean give his drink a swig,
He can talk with the birds and fight for the right
but don't leave any fishcakes within his sight.......or he'll eat them... Mitnal....
....till they're all gone... Mitnal..."
Mitnal is surprised by the variation on the song but delighted to have a turn again.
"Ta-la-ta-la ...
I have a friend with a clever head
I doubt there's a book she hasn't read
It may not be true, but I've heard it said
she even takes her books to bed ...
ta-la-ta-la Jeslara! ..."
"Ta-la-ta-la ...
I have a friend with a clever head
I doubt there's a book she hasn't read
It may not be true, but I've heard it said
she even takes her books to bed ...
ta-la-ta-la Jeslara! ..."
Jessa laughs at her friends' antics, already feeling her own spirit lift with the game. "That may or may not be true," she nods. Then she claps her hands and joins the song...
"Ta-la ta-la ...
I have a friend with a heart of gold,
He fought for Sandpoint, oh so bold,
He carries many arrows for his bow,
But sometimes he aims a little too low ...
ta-la ta-la Kinmorn! ..."
Shantare looks around in surprise at the new outbreak of song. Such undignified behavior. She thinks moodily, and sinks into her chair, hoping to go unnoticed.
Shantare looks around in surprise at the new outbreak of song. Such undignified behavior. She thinks moodily, and sinks into her chair, hoping to go unnoticed.
Mitnal sees Shantare slumping in her chair and thinks 'Oh no! She's feeling left out.'
"Ta-la-ta-la...
I have a friend who faces any danger,
tracks like a Shriikirri-Quah ranger,
fast and brave, strong and pretty,
what a shame she's not Shoanti.
Ta-la-ta-la Shantare!"
Hi peeps. I'm exhausted from the last two days, so I'ma go fall down now, but the crowd is very entertained by the teasing song.
Shantare looks around in surprise at the new outbreak of song. Such undignified behavior. She thinks moodily, and sinks into her chair, hoping to go unnoticed.Mitnal sees Shantare slumping in her chair and thinks 'Oh no! She's feeling left out.'
"Ta-la-ta-la...
I have a friend who faces any danger,
tracks like a Shriikirri-Quah ranger,
fast and brave, strong and pretty,
what a shame she's not Shoanti.
Ta-la-ta-la Shantare!"
Shantare turns bright red, and attempts to look busy fumbling with her bag. She looks around, frantic for the bar maid to come to give her something to do.
Shantare turns bright red, and attempts to look busy fumbling with her bag. She looks around, frantic for the bar maid to come to give her something to do.
"Tha's alright lass. I can not sing worth a dwarven explicative either. And my mind does not work so quickly as to be able to rhyme with any degree of cleverness. I can, however, enjoy their merry tune and appreciate the lightness of the occassion...ESPECIALLY IF I HAD A WEE BIT MORE WINE!" The last part was yelled across the bar room hoping to be heard over the din.
Mitnal bounds over to Shantare and sits down in the nearest chair. "I was thinking about grass. Like the kind I use for my baskets. I was thinking you would know a lot about grass. Some grass does not grow near here. Smokegrass is hard to find here," Mitnal pauses. He's obviously had an intelligent thought and, as that is a rather unusual event, he is quite excited by it "Did the goblins have any grasses on them that didn't grow around here? Can we find their clothes or bodies and look for something that would tell us where they came from? ... Also, can you help me find some smokegrass when you are not busy?"
Kinmorn, seeing that Shantare is embarrassed decides that there has been enough of the teasing song and rejoins his friends.
"Also, can you help me find some smokegrass when you are not busy?"
"I mean for making baskets from. I like the colour they add. ... I know there are other uses for Smokegrass but ...," Mitnal says changing the subject with some embarrassment "Anyhow, did you see any kind of grasses or sign on the goblins that might tell us where they hide?"
"Ah, all this talk of smoking has suddenly peaked my interest." Gengar says cheefully. He takes out his pipe and pouch. Carefully pinching out the perfect amount he stuffs his pipe and lights up.
Drawing deeply he sighs and lets out a lovely torrent of spiced smoke.
"So you can smoke Smokegrass, huh? Not sure about that, but how about some Riddleroot - straight from the pirates of Riddleport?" He offers the pouch to Mitnal.
"Also, can you help me find some smokegrass when you are not busy?""I mean for making baskets from. I like the colour they add. ... I know there are other uses for Smokegrass but ...," Mitnal says changing the subject with some embarrassment "Anyhow, did you see any kind of grasses or sign on the goblins that might tell us where they hide?"
"No, I actually wasn't looking for grass on the goblins." Says Shantare, obiously glad to have something to keep her busy. "It is a good idea to look at their possesions, though. Did anybody take anything off the goblins?"
"No, I actually wasn't looking for grass on the goblins." Says Shantare, obiously glad to have something to keep her busy. "It is a good idea to look at their possesions, though. Did anybody take anything off the goblins?"
"Thankfully, no," Jessa answers for herself, "Those things smelled bad enough on their own. So I didn't see any need to take anything from them. Perhaps the sheriff or his men might have, though? Someone had to carry off the dead. And that would include the goblins we cut down during the fight."
"So you can smoke Smokegrass, huh? Not sure about that, but how about some Riddleroot - straight from the pirates of Riddleport?" He offers the pouch to Mitnal.
Mitnal, obviously lying, says "I don't smoke. Never have. Neither smokegrass or riddleroot."
"Thankfully, no," Jessa answers for herself, "Those things smelled bad enough on their own. So I didn't see any need to take anything from them. Perhaps the sheriff or his men might have, though? Someone had to carry off the dead. And that would include the goblins we cut down during the fight."
"Maybe we should see the sheriff?"