[PF] Rise of the Runelords (IC)

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Nyla

A pretty smile playing upon her lips, Shayliss leans forward across the counter. "Swiftsilver? That's a very pretty name. A whole lot better than "Vinder", anyways. She gives a tinkling little laugh. Straightening, she adjusts her blouse slightly, her face turning pinker still as she does so. Then, with a casual sort of grace, she walks around the counter to Nyla's side. "You don't seem like the vermin-killing type, no, but... Well, trust me. I'm sure you're the perfect woman for the job." Flashing a dazzlingly white smile, her soft hand grips Nyla's own, and gives her a light tug, leading her towards the back corner of the shop.

The corner is dark and bare, save for a wooden trapdoor set in the floor. Sitting beside it is a small, simple oil lamp, which Shayliss promptly grasps in her free hand. Then, almost reluctantly, she releases Nyla's hand and bends over to lift the trap door. A musty smell wafts up from the store's cellar. Not entirely unpleasant, but reminiscent of old burlap sacks, straw, and preserved foods. Shayliss lights the lamp with some difficulty, then swishes her hair behind her, nodding towards the decrepit ladder leading down into the dark. "Just a few rodents down here is all. Nasty little creatures." She pauses, looking back over her shoulder at Nyla. "Although I doubt they're much of a problem for the Goblin-slaying Heroine of Sandpoint." She smiles again before carefully beginning her descent down the ladder. Once she reaches the bottom, the lamp's light drifts over to the edge of Nyla's vision, near what appears to be a makeshift cot set against the wall. "I do hope you can help me, Miss Swiftsilver. It's so terribly frightful in this cellar alone..." The light briefly flashes over her face, and her eyelashes flutter lightly.

Zeljkas

Bev finishes scrawling on the piece of parchment, and turns to look directly at Zeljkas. "I should have the piece ready in a day or two, assuming everything goes according to plan. It'll be a right fine weapon, just you wait!" A grin returns to her dirty face. "Good to hear you'll be sticking around, my friend. Planning on staying at the Rusty Dragon for a while then? It's a nice enough place, I suppose, although the owner's a bit... eccentric." Bev raises her eyebrows as she mentions the owner of the inn, and seems to barely resist rolling her eyes.

Rubbing her chin with consideration, she responds to Zeljkas' question dutifully. "But if it's work you're looking for, you might just be in luck. Some guards dropped by to get some repairs done to their armor pretty recently, and they said that Sheriff Hemlock is planning to meet with the Heroes of Sandpoint to discuss something. I do believe a fair amount of gold was mentioned." As she speaks, she begins tying a thick, heavily-singed apron over her clothes, her thick fingers moving nimbly about their work. "If you're looking something more short-term, however, I think Daviren Hosk would appreciate an extra hand or two. He runs the "Goblin Squash Stable"; it seems like an appropriate place for you to work, eh?" Bev lets loose another guffaw of laughter as she finishes putting on her apron.

Lùthien

Aldern's cocky grin grows wider still, and he takes a moment to smooth the back of his hair before responding. "Please, my beautiful heroine, do not make me beg. If it's gold you need, then I'd be happy to pay for the boar's head; a mount that size would look excellent above my mantle. My home in Magnimar has yet to acquire a prize so fine for its study, and I relish the opportunity to rectify that problem." He clasps his hand together, eyes twinkling and teeth sparkling. "If it makes you feel more secure about your fianncial situation, I've been hearing rumors that Sheriff Hemlock wants to pay the lot of you to go carousing off in search of Goblins, or somesuch. Honestly, the details didn't interest me all that much. I'm sure he'll contact you and your friends in due time." He shrugs noncommittally, adjusting his sleeves absentmindedly.

Glancing up at the sky, his smile falters slightly, and Aldern daintily grips Lùthien's hand once more. "Ah, how time does fly when among such delightful company. I'm staying at the Rusty Dragon, should you wish to attend the hunt. I'll even provide some good horses for your friends, should they wish to accompany you. Anyways, I must be off; If my stay here is going to be profitable, there are a few people I'll need to speak with." He bends down, his lips brushing softly over the back of Lùthien's hand. "May your day be as wonderful as you are, my beautiful savior." With a flourishing bow, he saunters off towards the center of Sandpoint, his jacket flaring dramatically behind him.

After about twenty paces, a gust of wind catches the long jacket, sending it flying over his head, making him stumble and nearly fall onto the ground. He quickly fixes the coat, smooths his hair, then looks side-to-side to ensure that nobody was watching. Then, without further ado, he continues sauntering away.

[Hazuki]

Nyla

Nyla smiles warmly at the pleasant feeling of having her hand held, just for the simple joy it brings in remembering her younger days, before she got wrapped up in adventure and excitement. It was also boring as all get out. "Ah, you're being too kind to a cutter like me." The bard says with something of a flattered tilting of her head, while she watches the young woman she's meant to aid climb down the ladder. She crouches down at the edge of the trapdoor, giving one final look around the rooms above her before letting her gaze follow the trail of the lantern. "I just do what I can to help whatever berks need it. 'Xcept if they're squeezers or the like! Ain't nobody going to peel Nyla Swiftsilver, unless they're pretty. But only a little."

The Bard shakes her head as she realizes that she's been talking to herself, running a hand through her hair as she draws the finely-forged steel blade at her hip and hops down into the basement, readied for anything that might jump out at her. "And you needn't worry about being scared. Just tell me what these rodents look like and you'll soon be square." She says, turning her head to Shayliss and flashing her most confident smile, while her other hand flicks at the air and douses the entire basement in a bright multicolored light that comes from a set of four skulls, each beaming a different color out of their eyes as they fly around the basement and each other in a swarm. "...ignore the skulls." She adds, swiftly recovering from the moment of wide-eyedness.

With that, another spell emerges from her fingertips, and covers her eyes in a death-white sheen that allows her to see something of the arcane or divine that lingers in the place. "Questions! What do the rodents look like? What's the magic in that crate and those sacks?" As she asks the questions, dedicated now to solving the problem instead of flirting directly, a wriggling mass of ectoplasmic tentacles crawls around her left hand, pulsing gently in preparation for something to jump out.

Spoiler

Show

Readied action to cast Grease beneath the feet of something that jumps out, assuming it's not flying or something.

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

Zeljkas grunts at the armorer. "I'll be back then. Hope ye're as skilled as ye say. We'll see." She nods when Bev mentions the Rusty Dragon. "'swhere I'm stayin', yea. Beats sleepin' in an alley, trust me." She grins at the lady. "The owner's nice enough. Don't know her that well." A smile forms on her face when she hears the mention of a fair amount of gold. "'sgood to hear that. The heroes'll help. I'll be going to see this Hosk then. See you in two days." She turns around to leave the store, but not before walking over to Darius with a grin on her face. "Well, if ye ever need savin' again, let me know. A girl can never have enough weapons." She leaves the shop laughing loudly.

On her way to see Daviren Hosk, she takes a small detour to walk past the river, whistling a cheerful - if slightly off-key - tune. She stops for a while to gaze over the waters, thinking about all her recent adventures. The escape from Rend's gang, leaving her mother behind with that monster. The subsequent trip to Sandpoint with Pike and Strings, who left her behind just yesterday, right after the goblin attacks. Didn't think life outside Urglin would be as dangerous as it was in there. Huh. After a few moments of quiet reminiscing, she walks on. Off to see Daviren Hosk about a squashing. Or something.

[RCgothic]

Lùthien

I laugh behind a hand as the wind nearly pitches Aldern onto his face. Well that was easier than I'd expected it to be. If all it will take is an enquiry to Sheriff Hemlock's office then I see no reason why I can't divert briefly to hunt a creature that is probably a threat to anyone travelling in the tickwood. I think I can get onboard with that.

On a whim I clamber up the nearest building and take a seat on the tiles. I don't know who it belongs to, but I just sit there for a while, watching the townfolk go about their business. I realise I've been existing among them for decades, but I can't remember the last time I paid attention. It feels ... good ... to be involved with life again. I feel more alive than I have in ages and I'm not sure why a simple raid by goblins should have made such a difference. Is it just that the townfolk are suddenly paying attention to me for a change, or have I just found the right group of people? I marvel again at my new companions. I probably wouldn't have guessed that they'd have been two half-orcs and a human barely a seventh my age, but there you go.

I stare down into the street, watching the people go about their business, just waiting to see what the world brings me today.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Nyla

Shayliss flinches away as the dim cellar is suddenly filled with bright light--from floating skulls, no less. As the phantasmal motes of light course through the room, her eyes widen to incredible proportions, and her mouth hangs open slightly. However, she recovers her composure after a few seconds, her hand held over her heart. "Oh my. Is that what your spells usually look like? They're very spooky looking, those skull things." She smiles a bit as she finishes her sentence, keeping her hand flat to her chest. She blushes a bit over Nyla's questions about the rodents, her eyes darting back and forth a few times. "Umm.. They're big. Big and hairy, with long, disgusting tails! You know, they look like rats!" She blushes furiously, taking a few steps closer to Nyla.

However, she's taken slightly aback by the sudden change in Nyla's eyes, as well as by her sudden questions regarding magic in the room. "Well, I know Papa keeps a few healing potions in stock down here, just in case they're needed. I'm surprised he hasn't brought them up already, actually. It's been quite a chaotic couple of days here in Sandpoint. They'd probably sell quite well..." She frowns, casting an appraising glance toward the crates. Then, she turns her attention back toward Nyla, taking another step closer. "As for the sacks, I'd imagine it's mostly just rope and other bits and pieces. Nothing special. Why? Is there something weird about them?" She ***** her head inquisitively, now sending her gaze towards the sacks instead. However, it doesn't take too long for her to look back at Nyla, meeting her eyes and blushing furiously once more.

She looks down at the dusty floor, tapping her foot nervously. "Nyla? I have a confession to make. I hope it doesn't upset you..." She takes another step forward, her hand lightly brushing against the Bard's own. "The rats were taken care of nearly a week ago. I don't need help with pests at all." Shayliss grasps Nyla's hand more firmly, taking another step closer. Her cheeks are now a bright red hue. "I just c-couldn't think of a better way to get you to come spend time with me. I mean, you're a hero and so brave and beautiful and why would you want to spend time with a shopkeeper's daughter? And also I just wanted-" Shayliss begins to ramble, her eyes darting all over and her blush staying a constant, brilliant red.

Zeljkas

Bev gives Zeljkas a hearty slap on the back as she leaves, promising that the weapon will be the finest the Half-Orc has ever seen. Although, with her ignorance of Zeljkas' history, it would seem unlikely that she knew just how easy a task that would be. In any case, Zeljkas exits Bev's armory and walks into the pleasant warmth of late summer in Sandpoint. The river is sparkling in the bright sun as she passes, and a handful of children stand around it, simple fishing rods in their hands. None seem to be having any luck. A small red-headed girl soon spots Zeljkas, and her mouth hangs open in shock. She points excitedly over at her, and suddenly Zeljkas is accosted by a small swarm of children, all begging her to tell them about how she "fought off the entire Goblin invasion with her bare hands".

Eventually, she makes her way to the Goblin Squash Stable, a ramshackle barn located towards the south of Sandpoint. Not too far from the establishment lies the Lost Coast Road, connected to Sandpoint with a charming little bridge, arcing over the curve of the river. The first thing Zeljkas notices is the sign that stands hammered into the ground a few meters from the entrance. The sign lacks any lettering, but depicts a terrified Goblin being squashed beneath a horse's hooves. As she walks up to the front of the barn, Zeljkas notices a more grisly detail: nearly two-dozen shriveled Goblin ears are nailed above the barn door. On each ear, a name is carefully branded, apparently listing the names of the unfortunate Goblins whose ears are currently on display.

Coincidentally, just as Zeljkas reaches for the door's handle, it swings open of its own accord. The man who opened it, a tall, brawny fellow wearing simple clothes, walks directly into the Half-Orc, nearly sending the pair of them tumbling to the ground. He quickly regains his footing however, and leaps back, his hand darting to the dagger on his belt. After a moment, his face softens, and he moves his hand aside. "Sorry 'bout almost drawing on you there. You nearly scared the piss outta me, sneaking up on me like that." The skin under his close-cropped hair grows slightly pink with embarrassment, and he gives a half-smile, rubbing his forearm. "Now, uh, what can I do for you? You need a horse? There's a good strong mare I've been lookin' to sell. She's a right beauty." He opens the barn doors completely, gesturing for Zeljkas to come in.

Spoiler: Daviren Hosk

Show

Lùthien

As Lùthien sits upon the roof, pondering the meaning of the recent changes in her life, she is suddenly drawn out of her reverie by a firm tap on the shoulder. Turning to look behind her, she finds that the interrupter is a small boy, wearing dirty, rag-like clothes. His face, although filthy with dirt, has the distinctly long and narrow features of one born from Elvish heritage. A wild shock of blonde hair, matted with grime and horribly tangled, sits like a mop atop his head. When Lùthien meets his deep-blue eyes, he offers a nervous smile, before placing a trinket in the palm of her hand. The little child then takes a few steps back, towards the center of the roof, looking down slightly in shyness.

Looking at the object in her hand, she finds that the boy has placed a small, gray crystal in her palm. Small bands of metal wrap around the back of the stone, binding the crystal into a roughly-elliptical shape. As the boy continues to stare and smile, the stone lifts out of Lùthien's hand and begins to slowly revolve around her head, spinning gently all the while. Delighted, the small boy laughs completely silently, with not even the sound of his breathing reaching Lùthien's ears. He takes a step closer, still beaming at her. Cocking his to the side, he gestures at the stone and then to Lùthien, before offering the choice between a "thumbs-up" gesture or a "thumbs-down" gesture.

Spoiler: Stone

Show

Stone's Stats

[Hazuki]

Nyla

Nyla bites her bottom lip slightly as she notices the shock scrawled across her young companion's face at the swarm of shining skulls the Bard had conjured. She has a tendency to forget the fact that the origin of her magic is reflected in its aesthetics, especially when she's focused on anything other than making the people around her comfortable, and scaring somebody who's been so nice to her so far isn't her aim in the slightest. "Sorry!" She apologizes, meekly running a hand through her messy black looks and flashing Shayliss the sweetest smile she can. "It does that sometimes. I'll send most of 'em back to the dead book for ya." She assures, and in a blink of an eye, three of the skulls dissipate into a black ectoplasm that slinks into the shadows.

"Rats? Well, that's a load off of my mind! I was worried they might be red-skinned demonic little things, or maybe an infestation of cannibal pixies...that was a weird day." The bard shakes her head, as the skull moves to hover over the two, and she makes sure to stand by Shayliss' side, lest she become scared by the darkness that once again surrounds them. "And there was a thing in the sacks; can't tell what it was without going digging around in them. It's not rats, so there's that!"

The Bard's foot mimics the tapping of Shayliss', as the latter prepares for her confession and Nyla instinctively seeks out tunes. The possibility of a revelation does happen to excite Nyla, the magic around her eyes dissipating as she tilts her head in a mixture of curiosity and compassion for the bout of nervousness that washes over the beautiful shopkeeper's daughter. Even the hand that slips into hers, warm and soft, feels the warmth of Nyla's mien, as her fingers clasp around it and their palms embrace. Although it does take her a few moments to realize that there genuinely are no rats, once the fact has been uttered.

Despite herself, and her regular confident grin, a humble little smirk crosses Nyla's plump lips at the embarrassment she's unintentionally conjured in the adorable young woman. "Allow me to dispel those fingerpaints..." She whispers, meeting Shayliss' eyes with a sensual gaze as she closes what little distance is between them, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on Shayliss' lips.

[RCgothic]

Lùthien

I smile widely at the small boy as he gives me the small trinket. "A gift? For me? That's very kind." I hold out my hand and find a dull grey gemstone placed in it. "You don't have to be shy you know. I only fight evil doers," I reassure him. I gasp as it lifts out of my palm. "Wha-? Oh wow! Oh, that's amazing! Thank you!" I give a big thumbs up, leaving him in no doubt that I'm grateful.

This would make a great gift for Nyla, my subconscious supplies unexpectedly. What? Where did that come from? Am I on gift-giving terms with her now?

I realise I've been staring and I come back to the present in time to realise I've been staring. "Yes, thank you. It's wonderful! Can I do anything for you in return?"

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

As Zeljkas makes her way to Daviren Hosk's stable, she is suddenly swarmed by a group of children begging her to tell of her fight with the goblins. Normally, Zeljkas would growl to scare off any nosey individuals, but since she's in a good mood, Zeljkas decides to indulge them. She recounts the tale of her combat relatively elaborately, leaving out some of the more boring parts but not sparing the gorey details. She even describes the taste of goblin flesh, causing several of the children to recoil in disgust. Eventually, Zeljkas grows bored with talking, and she says a curt goodbye before striding off towards the Goblin Squash Stable.

Having arrived there, she moves to open the door when the proprietor walks out, straight into Zeljkas. Both tumble to the ground, and Zeljkas is on her feet almost as quickly as the man she just collided with. Seeing him draw his dagger, she immediately assumes a combat stance and bares her teeth at the man, ready to lunge at him. When his face softens and he lowers his dagger, she stands up somewhat straighter, the corners of her mouth curling up into a small smirk. "No worries. What with the goblins about ye can't be too careful." She lets out a loud guffaw. "B'sides, I'm used to bein' greeted with daggers. This's quite friendly."

When the man tries to sell her a horse, she is quick to correct him. "I'm not here to buy. Lookin' f'r work to pass a day or two. Y'need a hand with anything?" She speaks, following Daviren into the barn.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Nyla

Shayliss gives a small smile as Nyla offers to rid the basement of the skulls, which quickly turns into a subdued giggle as Nyla mentions cannibal pixies. "That must be an interesting story; you'll have to tell me about it someday." Her wide eyes stay fixed on Nyla as the Half-Elf steps in closer, her blush deepening. When their lips meet, she shyly wraps her arms around the taller woman's neck, reciprocating the kiss with a demure sort of passion. The two stand, locked in an embrace, for a long time, surrounded by a serene quiet that serve to enhance the tranquility of the moment.

Shayliss suddenly breaks off the kiss, her face flushed from Nyla's embrace. She looks awkwardly down at her feet, then back up at Nyla. "Should we..? I mean, do you want to.." She stammers a few times, before allowing her blouse to slide slightly off one shoulder, her face bright pink once more.

However, the moment is completely ruined by the sounds of heavy footsteps stomping down the ladder on the other side of the room. The man stomping his way down the ladder grunts with nearly every step, and his cacophonous steps are amplified by the small enclosed space the two women occupy. Shyaliss' eyes widen, her hand clapping to her mouth. She whispers to Nyla, a panicked edge in her voice. "Oh no, it's my father!" In the midst of her panic, the young woman has completely forgotten to fix her clothing, leaving her looking disheveled and flushed, while also standing quite close to the recently-added cot.

Lùthien

The blonde boy takes a few tentative steps towards Lùthien, his expression slightly calmer. He gives a wide smile, showing that his two front teeth on the top of his mouth are missing. Small dimples and a slight crinkling around his eyes make him look positively mischievous for a moment as he stands atop the roof. For the duration of his grin, Lùthien almost could have mistaken him for a Gnome. However, as his smile fades, his appearance again comes to resemble that of a young Half-Elf. He shifts his head to one side, then makes a hand motion towards his mouth, shaking his head.

He scratches his head in thought when Lùthien asks what she could do for him, his eyes wandering all over. Then, suddenly, he stands up ramrod straight, his hand flying into the air. With another mischievous smile, he points at Lùthien, then at himself, then at a sizable building off in the distance. He then takes a series of quick, nimble steps across the tiled roof, towards the very edge of the building. Then, with a the easy, carless grace of a child, he leaps onto the roof of a neighboring building. He turns around, beckoning Lùthien to follow him.

Then, without further ado, he begins running again, heading towards the large building he had pointed to earlier.

Spoiler: Lùthien

Show

Although she's not quite certain, Lùthien thinks that the building the small boy pointed out was Turandarok Academy, an establishment that serves as an orphanage, a school, and a museum all in one. It is run by the eccentric, but kindhearted, Ilsoari Gandethus, who originally agreed to run the establishment on the condiiton that he could use some of the building's space to create his own private museum.

Zeljkas

The man laughs alongside Zeljkas, patting the weapon at his side and grinning. "I wouldn't really mind if the little buggers came back this way. Only got two ears out of the bargain last time. Got beat out by some roamin' adventurers an ol' Lùthien, from what I heard." He shakes his head, his thick fingers stroking the patchy stubble on his face. "Nothin' I like better than a little Goblin-killing, to be honest. Those Heroes did a right good job stompin' those Goblins. I've been meanin' to go visit 'em and give them my compliments, but I've been pretty wrapped up in work down here at the stables." He strokes the nose of a nearby horse absentmindedly, before turning his gaze directly on Zeljkas.

He looks the Half-Orc up and down, his face impassive. Then, with a small shrug, he holds his hand out for a handshake. "Why not? I could use the help, and you seem capable enough. Won't have to worry about you being scared of the horses or nothin', that's for sure." After a few minutes of haggling, Daviren agrees to pay Zeljkas fifteen gold coins in exchange for helping out at the stables, although she does end up having to do the most unpleasant tasks associated with such work.

Handing her a pitchfork, Daviren smiles broadly, jerking his thumb towards a pile of dirtied straw. "I know it ain't the cleanest sort of work, but a stable's got to be cleaned. After you're finished with that, I figure we can both take a little break and ride some of the horses around. A few of 'em need a little extra exercise." He nods at Zeljkas, then stomps over to a large bag of oats and takes to filling up the horses' feeding troughs.

[Hazuki]

Nyla

An easy warmth spreads through Nyla as she feels the demure young woman returning her embrace, the palm of her hand gently pushing against the small of Shayliss' back to keep her close without forcing the two of them together. Although most of her dalliances do well enough to wash away any ill feelings that threaten the untwisted state of her stomach, there's something special to the Bard about introducing somebody like this shopkeeper's daughter into a new world. The simple fact of being able to bring that much pleasure to somebody, and bolster something in which they have little confidence, makes her all the more eager as she plants gentle kisses on the young woman's lips.

When they break apart, Nyla meets Shayliss' eyes with a gentle shining in her own. Being the very impulsive person that she is, who doesn't entirely understand the concept of consequences for her actions or where she does things, the knowledge that there's only a thin ceiling and many people nearby poses no barrier to her. The gentle start of Shayliss disrobing comes with the bard's full lips turning into a smile, parting to reply and reach out for the bared shoulder, when the boots come down and panic quite clear claims her companion.

While Nyla's a fool, she's not a fool. At least, not on the day after she was caught doing something that made her look like a fool. She knows that she doesn't want to get chased all over the city again, so she has to do something that will make the situation like entirely innocent. The Bard grabs the wand that's been tucked behind her ear all morning and casts a simple cantrip that makes its tip glow, then passes it to Shayliss, while her other hand snatches the waterskin away from her own belt and squeezes it tight so that it splashes all over herself and the floor around her feet. "Roll with it." She says to Shayliss, giving her an incredibly confident smile before she lets out a squeal, re-attaching the waterskin to her belt and purposefully slips on the wet patch around her feet.

Nyla lands on her back with a slam and a groan, coughing past the water that's been splashed all over her and groaning. "Why didn't I just ask the goblin what the sparklestick did?" She bemoans loudly enough so that the man will be sure to hear it. "...well, it was in boxes and pieces..." She says, as whoever's approaching is sure to finish doing so, and half crawls back up from the floor so that she's leaning with her hand in the wet patch, coughing up another mouthful of water.

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

When Daviren mentions the heroes Zeljkas' eyes light up. Before coming to Sandpoint, she has never been admired, or considered a hero. This is much better than when Rend complimented us on taking out that group of orc cutthroats. She puffs out her chest a little, grinning as she speaks while her whole being fills with pride. "If I'd known, I'd have brought ye a few ears. Th'four of us did a good job crushin' them gob's. Never thought of takin' their ears. 'S a good way t'scare 'm off." She laughs. "Next time I'll save ye a few."

After a short round of haggling and finally coming to an agreement on the price, Zeljkas takes the pitchfork from Daviren with a smile. "I ain't 'fraid of horses, or to get dirty." she says as she walks over to the pile of straw and manure. "'ve had worse." As Zeljkas sticks the pitchfork in the straw for the first time, the scent of manure mingled with the smell of old straw wafts up into her sensitive nose. Immediately, her olfactory memory takes her back in time.

Night falls as three travellers make their way across the plains. None of them dare speak, having just escaped the ruined city of Urglin, for fear of being discovered by Rend's gang who may still be chasing them. Up in the distance, a building appears, and the three of them walk towards it. For while the days are scorching hot in the Cinderlands, the nights are freezing cold. One could easily freeze to death without shelter. As they come up to the stable, the half-orc immediately moves to pick the lock on the door, while the human and the halfling survey the surroundings. The place is deserted. There are some remains of a burnt-out fire pit in the middle of the stable - probably from a traveller who stayed there a few nights earlier - and there is a pile of relatively fresh straw in the corner. A scent, a mixture of old straw and manure, pervades the small building. The three travellers gather around the burnt out ashes, too afraid of brigands to build a fire. Eventually, the halfling drifts off to sleep, and the human and half-orc keep watch. Rend's gang is not known for letting people go this easily, but it seems the group has been lucky. Either they managed to lose their pursuers, or there were never pursuers at all. Only the half-orc manages to stay awake until first light.

Having finished her work, Zeljkas walks over to Daviren and hands him the pitchfork. "All done. Y'said somethin' 'bout ridin'?"

[RCgothic]

DM Post
Lùthien

The blonde boy takes a few tentative steps towards Lùthien, his expression slightly calmer. He gives a wide smile, showing that his two front teeth on the top of his mouth are missing. Small dimples and a slight crinkling around his eyes make him look positively mischievous for a moment as he stands atop the roof. For the duration of his grin, Lùthien almost could have mistaken him for a Gnome. However, as his smile fades, his appearance again comes to resemble that of a young Half-Elf. He shifts his head to one side, then makes a hand motion towards his mouth, shaking his head.

He scratches his head in thought when Lùthien asks what she could do for him, his eyes wandering all over. Then, suddenly, he stands up ramrod straight, his hand flying into the air. With another mischievous smile, he points at Lùthien, then at himself, then at a sizable building off in the distance. He then takes a series of quick, nimble steps across the tiled roof, towards the very edge of the building. Then, with a the easy, carless grace of a child, he leaps onto the roof of a neighboring building. He turns around, beckoning Lùthien to follow him.

Then, without further ado, he begins running again, heading towards the large building he had pointed to earlier.

Spoiler: Lùthien

Show

Although she's not quite certain, Lùthien thinks that the building the small boy pointed out was Turandarok Academy, an establishment that serves as an orphanage, a school, and a museum all in one. It is run by the eccentric, but kindhearted, Ilsoari Gandethus, who originally agreed to run the establishment on the condiiton that he could use some of the building's space to create his own private museum.

Lùthien

I can't help but smirk myself; the kid's wide, gappy smile is infectious. I quickly get the message when he gestures to his mouth. I wonder what could have happened to steal it from him and my smile fades into something a little more sympathetic. "Oh, you can't speak." I kick myself. That comment was unnecessary. Obvious.

I follow the sudden motion of his pointing with my eyes until it alights on the Turandarok Academy. I barely have time to recognise it before he leaps onto an adjacent building. "Hey, wait!"

The kid turns, gestures, and then continues. Looks like we'll be making a race of it then. With a powerful leap I make the jump to the next building to set off in pursuit, determined to beat the young elf-kin to his destination.

[LimeSkeleton]

[size=+2]DM Post

Nyla

Shayliss hurriedly adjusts her blouse as the heavy footsteps reach the bottom of the ladder, her face still clouded with panic. When Nyla purposefully slips and falls upon the floor, she gasps and takes a few steps back, nearly tripping on the cot near her feet. Her expression quickly cycles from surprise, to realization, and, finally, to feigned concern. Just as the brawny figure steps down onto the stone floor, Shayliss finds her tongue. "Oh my! Nyla, are you hurt? I'm so sorry about the wand!" Shayliss offers a dainty hand to Nyla as the young Half-Elf picks herself up off the wet floor.

The heavyset man who approaches the pair has his daughter's fair skin. However, the similarities stop there. His arms are thick, corded with muscle, ending in meaty fists with sausage-like fingers. His features are slightly-squashed, and he stands only slightly taller than Shayliss herself. However, his prodigious girth makes him appear much larger than his daughter, especially due to his impressive, rotund belly. The man looks between the two women with narrowed eyes. However, his expression instantly shifts from suspicion to concern when he sees that Nyla must have fallen down. "Normally I'd ask yeh what you were doing in my cellar here, but it looks like Shayliss here was trying to buy a wand off you. I do apologize; she ain't got the right sort of head for magic, my daughter."

The man directs a pointed glare at Shayliss, before returning a forced smile to Nyla. "The name's Ven Vinder. I'm the owner of this here store, obviously. Since my daughter went ahead and made you hurt yourself there, I'll give you some rope and such for free." His smile turns more genial, as he clearly believes that this offer is incredibly magnanimous, given the situation.

A few minutes later, Ven has cobbled together a burlap sack full of inexpensive, yet useful items, and hands it to Nyla with a nod. Shayliss offers a shy smile and a wave as Nyla departs, along with a "Come again soon!". The last thing Nyla hears as she leaves is Ven beginning to lecture his daughter on the necessary caution that must be taken with customers.

Zeljkas

Daviren snorts with laughter at Zeljkas' offer of Goblin ears. "Aye. Thanks to you, then. Could always use a few more ears, no doubt about it." As he and Zeljkas continue their work, a comfortable quiet fills the stables, with only the occasional whinnying of horses and clangs from the pitchfork to fill the air. A warm breeze blows through the stable's door, gently stirring about the strands of straw lying about the building. Before long, Daviren begins saddling up two horses, both of a dark-brown hue. He accepts the pitchfork with a smile and an affirmative grunt, the gestures for Zeljkas to mount up on one the horses.

Daviren climbs astride the other, and he leads the Half-Orc on a short ride near the edge of town, offering little in terms of conversation. However, the beauty of nature on a late summer's evening seems to make up for the lack of words, and the experience seems to make the stablemaster content. His features, so lined with age and worry, soften as they ride, making him appear years younger. However, after a short span of time, he motions to Zeljkas to ride back to the stables.

Once there, he unsaddles the horses quickly and efficiently, letting them graze as he does so. He turns to Zeljkas, rummaging in a pouch on his belt. "Thanks for coming along, Zeljkas. Won't be too long until Autumn comes, so I thought you might like to see Sandpoint at her finest while you were here. Here's your pay for the day; good work." He smiles and nods at her, then leads the horses back into the stable.

Lùthien

The young boy and Lùthien bound across the rooftops easily, their strides purposeful and swift. They both seem to possess a similar sort of innate grace in their movements. While the Elf's movements are more refined, the young boy still has the spirit of youth with him, filling him with frantic energy. Before long, Lùthien catches up to the small boy, who shimmies down a gutter carefully. Once he drops to the street below, he darts the nearest wall, upon which a poster is attached.

Looking up at Lùthien, he points to the poster, then back to her. He flashes his gap-toothed grin at her again, then darts off in the direction of the orphanage. The flyer, nailed unceremoniously to the wall, simply reads: "Wanted: Adventurers willing to retrieve a stolen item from Goblin invaders. Reward. Interested parties should seek out Gandethus, at Turandarok Academy." Lacking in any decoration, the flyer hangs limply upon the wall, flapping about with every gust of wind.

All

In Sandpoint, night has fallen. Although the day had been pleasantly warm, a cool wind quickly sets in with the setting of the sun, sending the Sandpoint residents indoors by their hearths. The Rusty Dragon Inn, although nearly-full, is relatively subdued, with few people talking or joking loudly. However, the fireplace burns brightly and the food and drink are readily available.

Lùthien, Zeljkas, and Nyla sit around a table close to the hearth, their food and drink already before them.

[Hazuki]

Nyla

"Aww, thank you blood!" Nyla grins at the man as she's pulled back to her feet by the dainty-handed Shayliss, patting hetrself down for anything that might have slipped before she gently retrieves the wand from Shayliss' hands and tucks it back behind her ear. She arches her back and cricks her neck as the large man starts to gather items, letting the water sink into her robes for the moment until she can be sure that Shayliss isn't in any big trouble. It'd be her fault, after all, and she doesn't want the poor girl to be yelled at for anything that she did. "I'll send my adams with some jink your way; most shopkeeps would deep dip me for making a mess."

The Bard makes sure to lean down and use her simple cantrip to clean the floor of the water before she grabs the burlap sack and hoists it over her shoulder. "I hope to see you both soon. Maybe with less sparklesticks." She laughs softly, giving a wave and a smile to both of the occupants before the strides out of the store with a spring in her step and a cantrip to finally clean off her armor. Though the tiny skulls manage to catch the attention of a few children that she has to do a few magic tricks for.

~

At the table in The Rusty Dragon, the Bard is up to her usual distracting tricks, but for the manner of being polite to the sombre atmosphere of the tavern this night, her display is a fair bit quieter than usual. Before her is a small wooden bowl, filled with tiny orbs of various colors that she's created with her most favorite of cantrips while a burlap sack sits at her feet. Her robe is resting on the back of her chair, allowing the young woman to show off her impressively toned muscles as she demonstrates what the situation with the little orbs is.

"These are all different tastes, see." Nyla says, lifting up a small orb between her slender pale finers and holding it up at eye level as she speaks in a hushed whisper. "The game is that you've got to pick one of 'em at random and put it in your mouth, and you've got to guess the taste right. If you do, you get something from my happy sack of gifts." She enthusiastically grabs the bag at her feet and lifts it up, now decorated a far more flattering crimson color. "But because they're random, they could taste like blek or a siren's voice! There are a few different senses mixed in, so you might get lucky!"

Nyla flashes a smile at the company around her and shakes the bowl. "I learned it from a mertkskirt made entirely out of ravens in Ashwood, where there were lots of cutters playing. Some poor sod took a big handful and...well..." She quietly giggles to herself. "Her tongue started changing flavors, so anyone who kissed her got a different one. I got Darkapple. It was yummy, but then it changed and I can't find Darkapple anywhere." She shrugs her shoulders and rubs her hands together. "Who wants to go first?" The insatiable Bard asks, her fingers tapping a quiet rhythm on the table.

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

During the ride, Zeljkas says little. She is too focused on staying in the saddle to speak much; it is obvious that riding is not a skill she is very practiced in. She proves to be a relatively quick learner however, and after a while she manages to take a look at her surroundings. As she looks around contently, she sniffs the summer air, enjoying its sweet aroma. She even manages to smile at the precious peace she has so rarely enjoyed. When they return and it is time for Zeljkas to leave, she accepts the pay with a grin. "Thanks. I'll bring ye back some ears sometime."

The walk back to the Rusty Dragon is a quiet one for once. Either the people of Sandpoint have already retreated into their homes, or they have found some other hero to pester with questions about their exploits. Either way, Zel arrives at the Dragon without delay.

~

Seated at their table in the Rusty Dragon, Zeljkas is eagerly devouring a piece of meat while Nyla sets up her game of orbs. Her expression is calmer than the day before; the day of relative peace has obviously been good for her. She wears the same slightly damaged armor as the day before, not having any other clothes to wear. She has set her hammer aside however; she is obviously at ease with her new comrades. Zeljkas grins, intermittently drinking her ale and chomping off bits of chicken. After having finished the leg and having put aside her ale, she picks one orb out of the bowl and quickly pops it into her mouth to guess the taste.

She scrunches her eyebrows, trying hard to discern the unusual taste of the orb. "Uh. Honey? No idea. Tasty though." A look of small disappointment crosses her face as Nyla corrects her answer. "Huh. Never tasted that before. W'didn't have that in Urglin." Her gaze drifts upward as she reminisces about her time in the city of her birth. "We ate whatever w'could get. Not much sweet stuff." She focuses back on the company before her and goes quiet again, leaning back in her chair.

When someone else grabs an orb out of the bowl, she speaks up again, pondering. "Hey, d'you know where Ahrel went? I'd thought he'd be here." Her gaze shifts from Nyla to Lùthien and back to Nyla, and after they have responded she sighs. "Well, can't be helped."

She is silent for a while, grabbing another orb and tasting it. Again she gets the answer completely wrong. "Bloody hard, this game. 'nyway, I heard some sheriff is lookin' f'r us. 'bout a lot of gold or such. Maybe he has a job f'r us heroes." She grins, her massive tusks standing out even more in the reddish orange glow of the hearthfire. "'swhat we need. Gold."

[PersonMan]

Emerging from the shadows of the last few trees that grew over the road, Apprentice smiles as the town comes into view. So far, her excursion into the outside world was going well. She was reaching her first major goal - well, she hadn't quite reached it yet, but it was close enough that she may as well have already done so - even earlier than planned. There had been next to no problems on the way. The swamp witch (Apprentice had decided that she was worthy of that title due to the ending of her apprenticeship with her mentor's death) had even found a few of the people living outside the swamp to be rather helpful. Taking a moment to pause and examine the already-visible structures of the town, Apprentice considers the differences between them and the dwellings she knew. The first difference was size - these structures were massive compared to the huts in the swamp. Clearly, they housed not only more people but quite a few ingredients and components as well. The witch of Sandpoint was obviously tremendously powerful, if she commanded enough followers to construct so many grand storehouses for her. For a moment, Apprentice wonders if the witch of this town had known her mentor in the past. The old woman had spoken of her own travels in the world outside the swamp on occasion, explaining that she had taken long journeys across the land in search of powerful magic. Then, having found it, she found herself a comfortable place to settle down and teach her craft to one with the right talents. Did the witch of this town take on apprentices as well? What kind of work would they have, if there were such massive structures made to contain all of the gathered materials? Perhaps she was preparing for some kind of great ritual?

Apprentice considers the buildings further, frowning as she sees a man emerge from one. Could it be that they were all merely dwellings? Did the people here have so much room to live in? Looking around, remembering everything she's seen on her way, her thoughts continue, constructing a theory as more of her memories fall into place. With so much open space, they could easily have more than enough room for even a massive group of followers. Perhaps the witch of Sandpoint used the large dwellings she gave her followers as a way to show her power to visitors? No, Apprentice concludes after another moment of thought. There were none of the normal trappings of witchcraft that she could see. Could it be that there simply wasn't a witch here to lead the people? Did they truly live lives without the magical guidance of a witch? The thought causes Apprentice to pause, gaze wandering over the road as her mind works, going over the few interactions she's had with the people of the outside world so far. None of them had referenced a witch, or any kind of magic-wielding leader. If there wasn't a witch leading them, then of course the town wasn't simply a stockpile of reagents and herbs. Apprentice sighs, realizing that her knowledge of this place is nowhere as great as she had believed until moments ago.

Thinking back to the three encounters with people outside the swamp so far, Apprentice considers each again. First was the man on the cart, a rolling container of hay pulled by two creatures she recognized only from her mentor's stories. Horses, they were called. He had been the one to tell her of the roads. The pathways carved out of the landscape, stretching towards the north and south, the first evidence Apprentice had seen that the world outside the swamp was indeed something almost entirely alien to her. She had traveled with him for a short while, continuing down the road when he arrived at his homestead, learning a few basic things of the world from his long-winded explanations. Realizing now that his lack of mention of witches at the head of their settlements hadn't been because he considered it obvious, but because they didn't exist, Apprentice sighs again. That should have been obvious.

The second had been a priestess. The young woman had been tending to a shrine on the side of the road, which piqued Apprentice's interest and had led to her approaching the unusual construction. The following conversations - the swamp witch had decided to rest with the priestess for a day, enjoying the company of someone of the outside world. It had been especially enjoyable, she realized later, because she had finally spoken to another young woman like herself. No witch of great power and many years, no simple farming man or servile scale folk. The two even had some other things in common - the priestess possessed some of her own magic, which she had also learned from a powerful teacher. Obviously, this teacher of hers was nowhere nearly as wise and magically gifted as Apprentice's own, but luckily they hadn't stayed on that topic for long so she never needed to make that clarification.

After a pleasant stay with the priestess, Apprentice had returned to the road, approaching the coast. The massive body of water she had heard of, what her mentor had called the Arcadian Ocean, became her constant companion, rarely more than a few hours' walk away as she followed the great road that seemed to follow the coast. It was along this read that she had met the third person of the outside world. A young man this time, traveling to a place called Magnimar to the south. It was he who had told her of Sandpoint, and of the small band who had driven off a massive goblin invasion. Of course, Apprentice had had enough experience with the exaggerations of the scale folk to know a tall tale when she heard one. A few pointed looks and a handful of questions later, the event shrunk from a massive invasion to a raid. Before long, the two parted ways and Apprentice finally had a solid plan of what to do. She would find these Heroes of Sandpoint and join their group. Well, they would join hers, but her group consisted of her alone (although the priestess had said that, in a few months, she would no longer be tasked with the upkeep of the road shrine and be able to travel, so Apprentice considered her an honorary member) so it would appear that she was joining theirs.

Straightening, her gaze going back up to the many buildings of Sandpoint after her unfocused eyes had drifted down during her long train of thought, Apprentice continues into the town, crossing yet another bridge - the sixth in the past four hours of walking - before finding herself in a place far more unusual than what she had expected. Her mentor had told her little of the places she had been during her time traveling, and Apprentice was never especially interested in them. The focus both had whenever the stories were told was the magic involved. The stones filled with ancient power, the runes that drove off all but the strong-willed, the blazing fires that erupted from nothing before disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. The towns, the cities, the villages...none had ever been the focus of a tale. So when Apprentice entered Sandpoint, she walked very slowly, taking in everything around her. Very quickly, the vast number of people - hordes of them, everywhere! - pushed her into action.

The cool wind and her desire to find the Heroes of Sandpoint were clearly considered understandable motivational factors by the residents of the town, and Apprentice was given quick answers each time she asked where she could find them. It still took some time, however - when she crossed the bridge, the sun was just beginning to set. By the time she had found out that the Heroes of Sandpoint were all together, that they were in a place called "The Rusty Dragon" (What kind of name is that, anyways? How can a dragon be rusty?) and finally where this place was to be found the sun was hidden by the masses of Sandpoint's many structures. Before entering, Apprentice considers how she is to actually find the Heroes - the descriptions of them have all been relatively vague, apart from one explaining that one of them bore some kind of lip ring - but hopes that the combination of elf, half-orc and human was uncommon enough to be easily spotted. Perhaps they would be sitting on some kind of grand table, as well...

Opening the door, Apprentice's thoughts go to social customs and she wonders if there would be some sort of procedure to follow when approaching the Heroes of Sandpoint. With a shrug she dismisses her doubts, entering the inn and casting her gaze across the room, the great numbers of people still somewhat intimidating.

[RCgothic]

Lùthien

Bent Street passes below me as I clear it in a single gigantic leap. The kid didn't quite make it, but he was spry enough to catch onto the opposing guttering and scrabble back up onto the roofs safely. I move swiftly and efficiently and while I'm sure I would be able to outpace the orphan in an endurance race he's making a credible effort at keeping ahead of me over this short distance, even though he lost some of his advantage on that leap.

We attract some notice from the passers by in Main street, but I pay them no heed, so intent am I on overhauling the youngster. A rapid scramble up to the summit followed by a short hop onto the next roof along opposite the bakery. We race each other along the tightrope of the ridge - dodging around the smoking chimney - and vault onto the roof of The Curious Goblin, a name I find suddenly amusing in light of the town's recent history. We cross the bookstore quickly and by the time we're swinging down a downspout into Rusty Nail Alley I'm only a half-second behind. To give the kid his due, he does touch down on the cobbles a fraction second before me. "Well done youngling, it's not often one so young can keep up with me." I tousel his hair as we cross to the wall of Turandarok Academy and inspect the poster he gave me. Yes. Yes! Just what I've been looking for! "Thanks young one. I'll see what I can do."

--------------

"Watermelon."

I select another of Nyla's orbs and pop it in my mouth. Ah, this one's easy. "Beef. I don't know where Ahrel is. Haven't seen him all day. Didn't think he'd be one to quit on us, but I won't miss that goblin pet of his. There's only one quality which makes for a good goblin, and that one didn't have it. Anyway-" I line up a trio of orbs and try to figure out which one to try next, eventually picking the left one at random. "- I think I may have found a couple of things that will pay. It appears the goblins may have taken something from Turandarok Academy that they'd like returned and they're willing to pay someone to go and get it. What is this? Yellow? I think this one tastes of yellow! And Aldern would pay us to accompany him on a hunting trip to slay an overgrown boar that's causing trouble down Tickwood way."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The entire tavern seems to freeze for a split-second as the Apprentice makes her entrance. All at once, nearly a dozen pairs of eyes flicker in her direction, fixating upon her clothing and belongings with a kind of bemused curiosity. However, the intensity of her demeanor and expression seem to put the majority of the residents at ill ease, and they quickly return to their drinks and quiet card games, their voices even more hushed than before.

From behind the counter, Ameiko, the young half-half owner of the bar, polishes a glass solemnly, her normally-expressive face subdued. Although her hair is set into a gigantic, green-streaked ponytail, speckled with dark green beads, it only serves to accentuate her markedly different behavior by contrast. After polishing the glass she offers a weak smile and a shallow nod in the apprentice's direction, then ducks into the kitchen after giving the tavern a cursory glance.

[Hazuki]

Nyla

The bard smiles quietly to herself as she watches both of her allies join in on the game of Guess The Flavor, though the topic of work coming up does distract her from the joy for a bit. Especially mention of the sleazeball from the day before; his mien felt like icky and spending a bunch of time with the guy didn't sound like a good idea, even if he had all the gold in the world. But there's no point on worrying about it much, especially while the night was young and there was still an entire bowl of Nyla's Tasty Treats to work through!

"I think working with the Sheriff sounds a lark" Nyla says with a firm nod of her head, as she reaches into her sack of goods and rummages around for a bit while she concentrates. "We need to be on the good side of people like that, especially for if we get into trouble, and I've got that berk chasing me... Did the leafbinders offer anything but jink?" She asks, tilting her head at Luthien and smiling at her as she pulls a small wooden puzzle box out of her sack. "You got beef right!" She enthusiastically grins.

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

Nyla mentions the sherrif, causing Zeljkas to nod in agreement. She has trouble understanding Nyla's speech patterns, with her use of slang and unusual vocabulary, but she thinks that Nyla just stated that working for the sherrif would be a good idea. "Gold 'sgood. We'll need that. Y'know, if we want te be heroes. Heroes need weapons. Armor. Need gold t'buy weapons and armor."

Zeljkas frowns as Lùthien guesses right. She slams her hand on the table before sulking back into her chair. "Bloody. I should've gotten that. I know beef. Bloody tasty." A grin forms on her face as she plucks out another orb, sniffing it carefully before popping it into her mouth. She is obviously enjoying their little game, and has no intention of hiding her feelings. She ponders for a moment before answering. "This is olive. Has to be. Stole 'em off a trader once, back home. Only got a few, but I never f'rget a taste."

Zel turns around as the inn suddenly goes quiet, curious to see what occurred to quiet the comforting racket around her. She spots the apprentice and arches a brow. Huh. And I thought I was out of place here. Zeljkas' gaze lingers on the newcomer for a second or two before she turns around to her game again, looking at Nyla. "So. Was I right?"

[PersonMan]

The Apprentice's gaze rolls over the many curious eyes looking at her, at once gaining validation from their interest and working to turn the interested patrons away from her with the look she gives them. She's at once given confidence by their reaction and irked by their attention. On one hand, having them all look up at her played to her ego, and the idea that these people recognized her as someone important. Someone special. On the other hand, being stared at by a crowd of the subservient masses was uncomfortable - there wasn't an order to bark here, no plan to explain or such a thing to do here. So Apprentice turns (almost literally) to staring them down, her eyes cold as they meet one pair after another, sweeping the room. Of course, she hadn't forgotten why she had come to the oddly-named Rusty Dragon, and her sweep also had the purpose of finding the ones she had come to meet with.

Apprentice briefly meets the eyes of the barkeeper, returning her nod and softening her gaze as she looks upon the woman cleaning the glass. Her mentor's stories had made clear that a barkeep was often an influential person in the community, despite their general lack of official authority. Speaking with every person in town tended to give one significant social power, so it would be best to stay at least cordial with her. After the barkeeper vanishes from sight, Apprentice raises an eyebrow before returning to her search. It was odd, but probably not a sign that she'd felt insulted or anything similar. No, chances are that she simply had work to do behind the wall that separated the back rooms of the tavern from the part she could see. Most people spent a great deal of their time working their professions, her mentor had told her. That was probably what Apprentice had seen - the woman returning to whatever work she had to do to continue her life in the town.

Finally, Apprentice's eyes came to rest on the table occupied by an odd group. A half-orc, an elf and a human. Well, she thought so, at least. She wasn't sure if the elf wasn't just an odd-looking human, having not seen many very closely. But she had the ears, the half-orc had the slightly bestial look typical of her people and the human - ah, there it was. The lip ring. These were certainly the ones she was looking for.

"Good evening," Apprentice begins, after she's approached the group. She makes her way over to them swiftly, not wasting time with a slow meander but not rushing. Once she's close enough to speak without having to raise her voice, the swamp witch does so. Speaking to people who were outstanding in their community was something she's never really done before. These Heroes of Sandpoint are the closest she has to equals, now that her mentor isn't around. Apprentice feels a deep discomfort beginning to rise in her, an anxiety that comes from the new situation of walking up to some people in a tavern and simply speaking to them. Apprentice simply speaks, quelling the anxieties within her. "I would like to enter negotiations about a proposition I have for your assemblage. That is, under the condition that the company with whom I am currently in dialogue with is indeed the collection referred to by the local inhabitants as 'the Heroes of Sandpoint' and that I have not erred in my investigation," she says.

The strict rules Apprentice had learned encompassed language, and her mentor had been of the opinion that carefully chosen words trained one for the carefully chosen syllables one needed to work magic with any degree of ability. So far, Apprentice hadn't kept herself to the strictest of standards she had upheld before her mentor's death, but now was an ideal time to return to them. All the better to impress these people she was speaking with.

[Hazuki]

Nyla

The young woman's neck twists to face Z as she makes another guess and talks on about gold they might be able to get, some small amount of happiness sparking in her chest as the warrior seems to agree with her to a degree. And she seems to be very enthusiastic about joining in on the taste-game. She tilts her head for a few moments as she tries to recall which orb the half-orc took, then lays down Luthien's prize before the elf and pulls out another...a small carved figurine of fertility that also serves as a grappling hook. "Ooh, congratulations! You're one lucky cutter." She says with a light laugh on her lips as she places it before Z.

The Bard is about to take a glance in her sack of freely-given goodies when she hears the jangley footsteps of an approaching woman who carries a lot of junk around with her, who quickly begins talking. Nyla's wandering mind comes to rest on the woman's plump lips as she starts to speak with an odd series of words...it takes her a few moments of watching her tongue to realize that she doesn't have some kind of deformity, so it must be some kind of cant. Just like her own! With that small mystery figured out, she spends some small amount of time to look over the lady's appearance. Not for long, because she doesn't want to be rude, but she finds herself smiling anyway.

The girl has quite pretty green eyes, which were always one of Nyla's favorites, and what her eyes decided to rest on as she tried her best to decipher the stranger's words and respond in her own slang. Maybe, in time, they could pick up a few words from one another that she could use in a song.

"Lady's grace, cutter! You've got a break-teeth tongue in yer bone-box, but if yer mark aint' dark, I reckon you've been catching a skeg for us adams in the anthill." The bard greets her with a charming smile, as she leans back in her chair. "And if you're as canny as y'are pretty, you can call kip with us." She gives Apprentice a rogueish little wink and pulls out the seat beside her at the table. "Ain't no kobold kings 'ere."

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

A grin appears on Zeljkas' lips when Nyla lays her prize in front of her on the table. She may not know many different tastes, but those she has tasted before she can identify without a problem. "Not luck. 's in the nose." She taps her nose with her right index finger as she speaks, before picking up the carved figurine. She holds it up in front of her to see what exactly it is supposed to be. "Thanks. What's it do?" she asks Nyla, when their game is suddenly interrupted by the Apprentice.

Zeljkas turns her head to look at the newcomer, mumbling a quick greeting in reply. "G'devenin'." As a veritable torrent of words suddenly pours forth from the girl, and Zeljkas scrunches her eyebrows as she tries to understand the apprentice's lengthy introduction. She raises a finger and opens her mouth to speak, but Nyla is quicker, following the confusing hurricane of complex words with an even more bewildering collection of exotic slang. When Nyla pulls out a seat, Zeljkas decides to save her questions for later. She simply nods and follows Nyla's reply up with a short "Ya. Sit."

[PersonMan]

It's a test. It's obviously a test. Apprentice thinks as the woman's words run through her ears, finding nothing that might make sense, apart from a single comment that seemed to be meant in a manner almost flirtatious. Her mind working as it normally only had to when crunching the numbers for a spell or arcane recipe, the swamp witch tackles each sentence on its own, looking for the meaning in the woman's code. 'Lady's grace, cutter!' seemed to be some sort of greeting/exclamation, so it probably didn't contain any further, specific meaning. A bone box was obviously a skull - Apprentice's mind shot to a memory of her grinding herbs for a mixture in a cut-off skull bowl - and break-teeth reminded her of 'breakneck speed', probably a reference to her manner of speaking quickly or in a complex fashion.

What follows seems more akin to a puzzle made by bashing words into a bowl and tossing in judicious amounts of nonsense before lining up what came out than an actual sentence, but Apprentice begins to work out the meaning of the words before a second passes. The precise thoughts of her deciphering are lost in a never-ending flow of thought, logic and instinct blending together as she works away at turning a mishmash of confusion into confident knowledge. Apprentice's focus on this process is so great, and so immediate, that she simply forgets the comment that follows, or the smile that preceded the words that she had just spent her entire mental power deciphering. The other one - the half-orc - gives her a simple response. Perhaps the first woman the only one who favored such word puzzles?

"My gratitude; your offer is most gracious. May I inquire as to your moniker? I am Apprentice," the swamp witch replies with her own smile, taking the offered seat and settling onto the wood. She was used to being on her feet, but after the day's travel it was enjoyable to get some rest for her legs. "Confabulations with your exploits as their foremost focus have lead to my acquaintance with your aforementioned deeds, but not with the gallant personas behind these actions," Apprentice offers as explanation.

[BramsesII]

Zeljkas

What. Did the world just go completely bonkers? Have people suddenly become walking thesauruses? Not that Zeljkas has ever seen a thesaurus. She'd probably think it's a lizard of some sort. Either way, Apprentice and Nyla's ways of talking are giving her a headache, and she takes a large swig of whatever drink is the closest to her. It doesn't matter whose it is - it may be her own, it may be someone elses - all that matters is the alcohol it most likely contains; somehow she feels that may keep the confusion at bay somewhat. After having put down the mug, she looks towards Lùthien with an almost pleading look in her eyes, wordlessly asking her if she has any idea what the other two women are talking about.

It dawns on Zeljkas that the newcomer may have been trying to introduce herself in some strange language that sounds a lot like common, only much more complicated; as if it the words were written by twelve insane lawyers and the sentences cobbled together by a mysterious gnomish clockwork invention. She eyes the woman carefully before replying to her question. "Good f'r you. What's a prentiss?" She takes another swig from the mug. "M'name's Zeljkas. Zel f'r short. Who're ye?" She pauses for a moment, pondering on how to phrase her next question before coming up with: "D'ye speak the common tongue?"

[Hazuki]

Nyla

"A prentiss is a type of cheese." Nyla wisely says to Zel as she responds to the tall robed woman with her usual candor, then pops one of the flavored orbs into her mouth and taps the top of the grappling hook of fertility. "And that's used to get places; just slide a rope through the hoop and throw it somewhere." She explains, having used such items, or at least makeshift versions of them, a few times in her strange past. None of them were quite as sturdy as the thing she just retrieved from her magical sack of goods.

"And I'm Nyla Swiftsilver." She finally says, head spinning round to face Apprentice almost fast enough to give her whiplash. She thinks on saying how pleased she is to meet the stranger, but Zel's beat her to it.

[RCgothic]

Lùthien

I pause in the act of raising a fresh orb to my mouth as the stranger greets us, instead rolling it between my thumb and the table as I try and discern the newcomer's meaning. Unlike Nyla's cant which I find wholly new and often impenetrable, I'm find myself struggling over the Apprentice's lexicon for a different reason; at one point I had learned all the words she's been using during my initial study of the common tongue, but in practice I've never had cause to use them and those studies are now more than a half-dozen decades past. At this far remove my recall functions just a fraction slowly for my responses to sound natural. Nyla of course doesn't seem in the least bit phased, but Zel seems at least as baffled as I am myself.

"Mara sinyë, Apprentice," I say, bidding our new arrival the traditional elven greeting for this time of day."My name is Lùthien. Have you travelled from afar? Your common is very good, if I may say so, if a little technical for ready comprehension. If I may offer some advice as an émigré myself, my own experience is that whilst erudite lexicons have their place in scholarly articles where the efficient and concise conveyance of meaning is at a premium, normal conversation is better served with words of a more common slant. WHat brings you to Sandpoint?"

"And I've never heard of a prentiss cheese," I remark aside to Nyla, "I'm fairly certain it's not a local variety, though of course I may be wrong."

[PersonMan]

Apprentice's gaze turns hard as Zeljkas introduces herself, the only outward sign of the anger that she's incited. Here she was, carefully putting together every sentence for their benefit, and she acts like she can't even understand? She wasn't a scaled folk or a goblin, so she should be able to understand what she's saying. Obviously it was meant to be an insult. Similarly to how she'd asked as to what 'a prentiss' was. This woman was mocking her very name. Perhaps this one was the antisocial member of the group; luckily so far the other speaking one seemed to be plenty friendly-

"A prentiss is a type of cheese."

...or not. So they were both mocking her now? Was this some kind of joke they played with everyone who wanted to talk to them? Apprentice's joy at having overcome the first boundary so easily washes away. As the third member of the group opens her mouth, the swamp witch expects nothing but more mocking. But unlike the others, the elf seems to be taking her seriously. Settling her gaze on her, the restrained anger leaving her for the time being, Apprentice listens as the one who is called Lùthien speaks for the first time (well, in her presence). She was actually speaking of things that made sense, which was good. So Apprentice's introductions had been too complex for common speech; that made sense.

"Greetings, Lùthien. I did not realize my language was too complex for a normal conversation; I have relatively little experience with such things," Apprentice says, deciding to simply ignore the others' mocking and respond to the one who was being reasonable. "Although I must admit, in the few conversations I have had since leaving my home, I have been insulted significantly less than I have already been here," she continues, tone lighthearted and with the slightest of movements to indicate that it wasn't Lùthien, but her companions who were meant. "I have come here because my old life is over, and I search for a group with the clear-headedness and intelligence to see the benefits that a partnership could bring us. If you have any plans already in motion, I would be glad to join you in their completion. I believe I can aid you in your endeavors and later we can accomplish more as a group than we would have been able to individually," Apprentice explains.

[Hazuki]

Nyla

A frown crosses the Bard's brow as it seems like the stranger ignores her introduction of her own name, then her lips part slightly as she listens to how she's speaking to Luthien and the gesture to the rest of the group. Clenching her fingers slightly at the fact that she'd been so nice and this person was throwing it in her face, the woman narrows her eyes at Apprentice and speaks to her in the same voice she has many a troublemaker at her gigs. "Where I come from, you don't come to somebody's table and say they're a bad host." She says quite firmly, her eyes flaring up for the first time with the wispy shroud that seemed to emanate from her during the battle with the goblins. Her clenching fists makes her surprisingly muscular arm bulge as it rests against the table, almost like she's bracing herself to smack the stranger around if she doesn't listen. "So if you're going to be a biter, you can pike it."

[PersonMan]

Apprentice's gaze turns as Nyla speaks to her, as she notices how her speech was significantly easier to understand. That makes her more confident about her earlier theory - after all, if it hadn't been a test of some sort, why else would she have been able to so easily discard that unusual manner of talking? Of course, the swamp witch realizes as her thoughts churn forwards, it could just be that the lip ring bearer had been using some sort of more formal speech, just as she'd been doing. That would explain the switch, at least. Somewhat disgruntled by the thought that her earlier efforts had been for naught, and further incited by the way Nyla seems to prepare for some kind of brawl. For a brief moment, she wants to escalate the conflict, to let this woman swing at her so she can respond with searing fires, but that moment passes quickly, as her reasons to not do so surge to the forefront of her mind. Apprentice wasn't looking to get thrown out of the town; it wouldn't do well to respond like this and get a bad reputation, the others might join the woman and surround the swamp witch, and finally...Nyla was pretty. For the same reason she had always delegated the picking of the more beautiful flowers that held mystical properties, as well as their end under the mortar, she didn't want to hurt the woman. She'd been nice, at least at first.

Then there was the magic. It took Apprentice a moment longer to notice it than she would have liked, the thoughts circling in her mind had hidden that change in the woman next to her until she had dealt with them. But the sparkle, the unmistakable shift in light that danced through her eyes. A subtle display of arcane power, something that the swamp witch hadn't noticed due to the more overt showing of mundane physical strength. That gives the situation a different light - even an untrained magic user was still far more dangerous than a mere chatty brawler.

I'll have to end this, then. I'm the witch here, I shouldn't be getting involved in this kind of conflict in the first place. Apprentice thinks, and she lets out a slow breath, closing her eyes and speaking just before they open. "Where I come from, I am not normally referred to as cheese. I believe there has been a mistake made during our meeting. I apologize if I insulted you, I was merely pointing out that I myself felt insulted by your comments regarding my name and speech," she explains. "Apprentice is my name, for that is who I am. It is not cheese, at least not to my knowledge."