Chapter I: Burnt Offerings [Lordhavelock's Rise of the Runelords]

[LordHavelock]

http://i.imgur.com/IalsLLa.png
'Please stop to see yourself as we see you!' Reads the sign above and below the mirror, just outside the outskirts of the town, the moors and misty laden gullies giving way to rolling farmlands and hillocks dotted by the occasional house or manor-home till one has reached this bastion of civilized society in the wilderness of the Lost Coast. The languid waters of the Turandarok River wind down from the hinterlands, skirting Devil’s Platter to empty into the relatively sheltered waters of Sandpoint Harbor. The town's mostly wooden buildings and homes rise along a gentle slope only a few feet from the water line, growing progressively newer and less crowded till one reaches Uptown, perched upon the bluffs overlooking the both harbor and Downtown. It is the first day of Autumn, as befits the celebration about to begin at the very height of the hill, where has been built and now waits to be christened Sandpoint Cathedral! In the middle of an open-air courtyard are the seven ancient Varisian standing stones from which the old chapel was built around, but now now surrounding them are now three sweeping wings of well cut stone and burnished glass windows, which themselves house six individual chapels for the worship of the Gold-Fisted Abadar, Erastil the Hunter, Shelyn of Roses, Stormy Old Gozreh, Sarenrae the Dawnflower, and in her special place amongst Varisia, Desna Starsong, Tender of Dreams.

For five years, the faithful of Sandpoint have attended church in smaller wooden structures rebuilt after fire destroyed the previous temple, whilst their new pastor Abstalar proved himself every bit as helpful, kind, and wise, inspiring all of Sandpoint to the task of building a new place of worship all the more grand. Now, the new cathedral is finally done and all that remains is for the Swallowtail Festival to renew the site’s blessings from the gods; It will be as if the Sandpoint Fire had never occurred! Already the commons in front of the church are filled with locals and travelers alike, with plenty of merchant's tents featuring local fare, festive clothes, fine crafts & souvenirs there to meet them. It is not long however before Mayor Kendra Deverin has taken the small stage before the church, bringing the crowd to an eager silence.

"Welcome, friends, neighbors, visitors, one and all!" She proclaims, with a contagious cheer and charm characteristic of the bright and active leader of Sandpoint. Her remarks are well received as she recounts all those to thank for their beautiful new cathedral, modestly leaving out her own contributions and persistent spirit which without it might never have been built, and even passing a jibe at the local tannery master, Larz Rovanky, for managing to suppress his usual workaholic nature to attend. The crowd laughs (even Larz cracking a grin) before a rousing round of applause to which Mayor Deverin bows before herself yielding the stage to the altogether sobering presence of Sheriff Hemlock.

"I'll remind our good citizens and guests to remain safe and aware of themselves during the festivities, especially tonight's bonfire." Remarks the more-than intimidating Shoanti man, clearly evoking memories of the fire which claimed the old chapel and several other buildings five years ago. His tone is cool, but respectful, in asking for a moment of silence to remember the lives of companions and loved one's lost, particularly the dearly departed Father Tobyn, mentor and friend to all, but none more-so than the new Father Zantus.

"A blessing on them, their families, and on us all." Begins the ever-eloquent and sonorous voice of Cydrak Drokkus, before a slightly longer and more awkward silence . . . "And any travelers to try their luck at the Hagfish's challenge this day." he continues, to a few odd chuckles, "I understand good master Quinn has had Norah working on a special brew, and has even brought a few samples of it with him here." A few more laughs as folks begin to fill in newcomers to the Hagfish challenge. "Or judging by the smell, Larz may be more committed than we thought and has brought a few buckets of lye to continue his work." A guffaw and applause roars through the crowd as Sandpoint's premiere entertainer and shameless self-promoter brings the spirit of festivities to a head with a few more less-than-reverent anecdotes about how the Cathedral's funds were raised, and a ribald remark involving the Mayor, the Sheriff, and a one Kaye Tesarani, proprietor of the Pixie's Kitten which has Kendra nearly falling off her chair, while Sheriff Belor tries to manage a steely glare even as he turns a deep shade of russet. Without any tact at all, Cyrdus transitions directly into a plug for his new production of "The Harpy's Curse" at Sandpoint Theater (Starring the Diva Allishanda of Magnimar in the role of the Harpy Queen), before bowing away amidst the crowd's attempts to get in a remark or jibe of their own.

"Thank you, brothers and sisters." Rings the clear baritone of Father Zantus, immediately rendering the crow to silence. "It is a great honor to have you all here, but there is no higher honor than the triumph that is this cathedral which your efforts have made possible here in our beloved home. Let us all give thanks and be merry, for this is a day of much rejoicing!" A brief cheer quickly turns to awe as the father's acolytes wheel forward a large covered wagon, while the Priest of Desna recounts the short parable of Desna's fall to earth, whereupon she was nursed to health by a blind child, who in return was transformed by Desna into an immortal Swallotail Butterfly, giving rise to all of Desn's most beloved Children. With a grand gesture towards the wagon, the acolytes pull back the cover, releasing a swarm of thousands of colorful butterflies which spiral into the air above the crowd to everyone's delight before dispersing all about the hilltop.

The festival is now begun, and by mid morning in full swing as folks laugh and talk and enjoy the clear air and bright sun of this, the 1st Day of Rova. Children make merry by chasing the newly released butterflys (to no avail, as they prove most wily now in the open air), and everyone enjoys the grand luncheon provided at the expense of Sandpoint's taverns, each seeking to outdo the other and win new customers for the coming months. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other offerings, such as the Hagfish’s lobster chowder or the White Deer’s peppercorn venison. Spirits are high and the Late Unpleasantness totally forgotten as Sandpoint's locals and visitors alike enjoy the company and food to celebrate this new blessing for their town.

[Koryander]

Sandpoint looked impressive from this distance.

It was bigger than she had first assumed it would be; it was not huge, but big enough. If anything, she could see through the city gates and there was much to do about something or another…

Ah! The Festival! Has she really arrived so late? Her track of time must have flown the coup, as she thought she still had at least a day or two of downtime before it started. It was no matter, the Festival is just an excuse to blend in with the crowd as she got settled in anyhow. It was remarkable to see the hustle and bustle though.

A cool breeze suddenly wafted through the air, but in truth, Cyarra’s skin could barely recognize the wind. It was a part of being an Aasimar, a nice, cold breeze during a warm day never really resonated with her much. That pesky cold resistance took the joy out of that fairly quick. The wind however, that could be annoying when you spent your life hefting around a gigantic shield.

As she approached the gate she saw a mirror… her lips could only whisper the words displayed above. “Please stop to see yourself as we see you.”

Her breath caught in her throat… and for some reason that she could not describe, the moment paralyzed her. As she glanced back into her own, orange eyes, she fumbled. Immediately her hands grabbed for her hood and lowered it down to her eyes, almost ashamed and frightened at what she saw staring back.

Suddenly a voice emerged from behind her, and the poor woman jumped as if a rogue plunged a knife into her back.

“A fine afternoon, isn’t it traveler?”

Cyarra grimaced and lowered her hood even farther, if that was possible.

“Yeah, it’s not been a bad day so far.” Her lips fumbled, eyes cast to the ground. “The day is just beginning though.”

The guard laughed out loud and approached Cyarra, “You’re here for the festival, are you not? I’m surprised how many outsiders are stopping by this year.”

“Yeah.” Cyarra said, with no enthusiasm, “A lot of nomads making their rounds.”

The guard seemed somewhat concerned now… though he wasn’t quite sure if he was concerned that the woman before him was entirely joyless, or if she was trying to hide something.

“Is everything okay miss?” He said bluntly.

“Oh no, everything is fine, it’s just…”

That strong wind again… seeing an opportunity Cyarra suddenly dropped her things onto the floor, letting out a fake growl and kneeling down to pick it all up, averting her face from him.

“Damn wind…”

The guard’s sudden hostility melted away, and genuine concern returned. “Tch, I apologize. I’ve been distracting you. Here, let me help you out.”
No, he wasn’t supposed to help! He was supposed to give her space.

“I’m okay, I’ve got it, and I’ll just…-”

As the guard leaned down, another fierce gust of wind blew. Off came the hood, sliding down onto Cyarra’s shoulders. As she slowly looked upwards at him, she realized her folly. Guard McNoseypants now had a clear view of her face, her orange runes, and her brightly matching colored orange eyes.

“My word,” the man said, “I know exactly what you are! You’re-“

Cyarra interrupted him in mid-sentence, “A woman with funny tattoos.”

The two of them just stared for a little while, until Cyarra let out a long, shaky sigh.

“Just… please don’t spread this around. Please?”

The poor man just shook his head, he didn’t understand what the problem was. It was all so confusing, wasn’t this a good thing? A blessing? The town SHOULD know about this! An Aasimar has shown up at the doorstep of the town during the swallowtail festival!

“W-Well, I suppose I could keep this on the hush hush. I just don’t understand why-“

Cyarra gathered the rest of her things and placed her cowl back over her head.

“Please, just let me through alright? Goddess damn it.”

The perplexed guard just nodded, “Alright then… I’ll keep this to myself. Go on through miss.”

The Aasimar slowly nodded in response and walked in. Leaving the guard to his own thoughts. Could he really keep this a secret? As Cyarra walked through the north entrance, she looked up at the Sandpoint Cathedral looming over her. The Aasimar closed her eyes and took a shaky breath.

There was no need to freak like that. NO need to freak like that. Absolutely no need to freak like that.

“Smooth Cy, really, really smooth.”

She shook her head and glanced forward, watching the hustle and bustle of the city. “These are good people”, she thought to herself. “These are very good people, who don’t want locks of your hair, or kisses to remove sickness and plague, or rub their warts on you when you’re not looking. They’re ordinary, accepting people and you’re going to live here and it’s going to be great.”

She nodded resolutely to herself, “Welcome to Sandpoint, Cyarra.”

And with that last statement spoken to herself, she stepped into the crowd.


Just stating I had guard-usage approval from our illustrious GM :)

[Melquiades]

The sun in his face woke him up.

That was somewhat new to him. Ever since Clive stopped drinking, a few days ago, he couldn't manage to sleep after sunrise. Which, if only for today, was extremely fortunate. I need to prepare myself for the Festival..., Clive thought as he got out of bed.

While the water was heating in the fire, he picked his best clothes to wear. He also got the Musket out of the wall for the first time in 3 years. He would bring it with him today, to the Festival. Do I still know how to shoot? Is my aim still the same? he thought, and as a response to his questions, his hands started shaking. It's the damn frackin' booze... or the lack of it.

Clive was cleaning the musket, and started to think about whether it was really a good idea to bring it with him. The last time we saw each other, we fought because of it. I just hope that when Lucas sees me like this again, he will remember the good times..., but then his monologue was interrupted by the sound of water boiling.

He prepared a bath, the third in five days. It surely was some kind of record, nevertheless he felt that a lot of the dirt he had accumulated was still on his body, and the second new thing he discovered this morning was that it bothered him. He wanted to be clean to see his son again. Clean in every possible way.

After dressing himself and packing things up, Clive took a bite of the bread in the kitchen. He looked to the closed bottle of wine across the room. Maybe just a sip? I'm sure no one will noti... As if mad with himself for considering it, he bolted out of the kitchen and made his way out of the house.

The sun was bright. He was up early. It was a good day until now.

He walked down Cliff Street, where he lived -- often joking that it was really Clive Street -- going towards the Cathedral. As he got closer, more and more people crossed his path and he got all kinds of looks from them. The younger faces had a mix of surprise, disbelief and scorn. What's this with Clive? Why isn't he drinking yet? And why the musket today?, and many other questions crossed their minds. People who were older, and able to remind things that happened a lifetime ago, looked at him differently. A really small few had an expression that he took for something between hope and admiration. The others at least seemed happy that he was looking better.

Friends, most of them, once. Forget it, you can just fix one thing at a time. Focus on your son, man. Clive got there in time to hear the Mayor's speech and the following ones, but he didn't pay a lot of attention, searching for Lucas in the crowd. For a moment, something terrible crossed his mind. Will I recognize him? Will he recognize me?, but after a while he decided that no one could change so much or forget so much in ten years.

Some time later, he supposed that the important guy from Magnimar wasn't here yet, and that he should try to enjoy the festival until then, otherwise the anxiety would kill him. Some boy who doesn't look local approaches him, trying to make conversation:

"Are you Clive Boonie?"

"Yeah."

"The one with the name written twice on the Hagfish's wall? You drank that thing twice?"

"Keep walking, son", the tone and his expression did the rest.

That's the kind o' thing I'm known for these days... Clive concluded that it would be a long, long day.

I plan to make another post tomorrow. Need to sleep!

[Askel]

It's a damn good day for a nap... Zelgiel thought to himself, The sun is shining, the birds are still singing, and the wind isn't bitter cold just yet... Yep, I could sure use a nap.

The half-elf opened his eyes regretfully. Father Zantus was done with his little "demonstration" for the children and people were starting to do "festival things". Zelgiel stood on the corner of High Street, just at the southwestern edge of the square, wearing his typical armor and weapons in plain view, the Sandpoint Town Guard's colors and emblem dyed and emblazoned onto his cuirass. There could be no mistaking him as anything but a town guard, despite his best efforts to look like any other reveler. The sheriff had already had a strained conversation with him about that particular subject earlier in the morning, and the half-elf had been left with no doubts as to Sheriff Hemlock's opinion on drinking, gaming, flirting, love-making, light-drinking, and sleeping while on duty.

Zelgiel sighed loudly, looking longingly at the Rusty Dragon's booth, where a large cluster of people were laughing and drinking while lovely Ameiko Kaijitsu poured more mead and set down plates of delicious, marvelous, gods-be-praised-curried salmon... The half-elf forced his eyes away. From where he stood, he had a pretty good view of most of Downtown, as well as the harbor. He could see that a couple of men were still working on the docks, lifting and loading large crates of... well, whatever goes into those particular crates. It looked like back-breaking work.

I can sympathize, I suppose...

Zelgiel sighed resignedly and leaned back against the small house he stood by, resting his head on the wall. Keeping his head touching the wall, he looked over to one of the vendors hawking Swallowtail merch nearby, in the square. The man caught Zelgiel's eye, and Zelgiel held it. The merchant raised his hands helplessly at the half-elf, as though asking, What? Zelgiel sighed as animatedly as he could, and called over to the vendor, "I'm bored."

The vendor chuckled and went back to his business. Zelgiel did likewise.

What do they need me keeping watch for, anyway? It's not like someone's going to come crash a festival. Damn Belor and his paranoia and workaholism...

When several children chased a butterfly past Zelgiel, he called half-heartedly after them, long after they were out of ear-shot, "Don't run so fast."

He snorted at his own cleverness and turned his eyes back on the main square, watching as everyone else had their fun. The half-elf wasn't sure how much time passed, but after a while, he decided that, in the spirit of keeping watch and making sure that all of the festival was kept safe in equal proportions, he'd take a short walk around the square and mingle a bit.

Who knows... Maybe I'll catch an impostor while I'm doing that. Or something.

Zelgiel started walking into the square with all the poise and conviction of a cat before naptime. He approached a random female festival-visitor and smiled his most charming smile.

"Enjoying the festival?" he asked.

[Recherché]

You've done enough getting everything ready, Izzy. Go have fun at the festival. Get to know the town. I'm sure that I can handle myself Father Zantus's directive still run through Izzy's mind.

How exactly does one mingle? Do I just go up to random people and start introducing myself?

Izzy wanders around the festivities aimlessly, at first observing the people enjoying the festivities. The day is bright, there are happy people everywhere and Izzy wants to get somewhere else as soon as possible. Still it wouldn't do to run away and hide today. Surely she can just relax and enjoy the festival. So the petite woman wanders over to get some food and then eats very slowly, watching the crowd passing by half hoping that someone will come up to try to talk to her, half dreading the same idea. She rehearses what she'd say to anyone who did come up. Unfortunately half the imagined conversations end with Izzy running away at top speed. And her mind drifts away from the people of the town, and the festival towards the butterflies, wondering what exactly they do after they're released. Do they return to the places where they were captured? Do they mingle up in the sky making new communities?

Izzy's mind is still up in the clouds as she stands up and nearly runs into a tall silver haired man who towers over her.



"Enjoying the festival?" he asked.

Izzy jumps at the unexpected comment and then freezes for a second while she tries to think through all the conversations she rehearsed and eventually settles on one.

Uh, yes I suppose. I mean I haven't really seen very much of it yet, but it looks like there will be lots to do.

The rictus of terror fades off of Izzy's face as she begins talking.

I'm Izabetta Meresis, the new acolyte at the temple. Who are you? I feel like I've seen you around the town before but I might just be confused.

[King Tius]

Dawn breaks to find Aurelius already awake, dutifully polishing his chainmail by candlelight in the tiny rented room he took at the inn. The duties of a squire begin well before the sun goes about its daily routine, and while Aurelius is no longer required to muck stalls and mend armor, he keeps to the habit of rising early and preparing himself for the day ahead. While he arrived in Sandpoint two days prior, Aurelius has yet to present himself to either Sheriff Hemlock or Father Zantus. Instead he used the two previous days to wander about town in his plainclothes and get to know the area. Now that the festival has arrived, he's resolved himself to putting on his armor and starting his new life as a itinerant warrior for the Keeper of the First Vault. Finishing the oiling of his chainmail (his prized possession), he dons his armor, straps his training sword to his hip, and reaches reluctantly for his holy symbol. He holds the gold-painted wooden key tenderly as he puts the copper chain around his neck.

"Gods above, I need to save some coin to get a nicer icon. Can you imagine what mother would say if she say this? Carved it myself? What am I, some kind of commoner?"

He sighs and shakes his head, driving the thought from his mind as he remembers his teachings. He speaks the words aloud, reciting them in the sing-song tone of a student reciting their lessons.

"The true value of a man is weighed by his deeds, not his purse."

He snorts and mutters to himself, turning sideways to view his profile in the small mirror mounted above the wash basin.

"Easy for the old coot to say with his gold-trimmed plate and riding crop. How are they going to take me seriously if I don't look the part?"

After fiddling with his hair for the better part of half an hour, he departs the inn and enters the gathering crowd of the Swallowtail Festival. While the festival is undoubtedly devoted to Desna, those in the crowd seem to give him special deference when they see his holy symbol. Several people nod at him respectfully and call him "Judge," though he can't help but frown when a man refers to him as "Young Judge." Aurelius enjoys the sights and sounds of the festival but keeps his paltry amount of gold tucked in its pouch under his armor. He only had enough for a few more days at the inn. If he didn't secure somewhere to stay or some kind of employment today, he'd be sleeping in the gutter before long.

Deciding the best place to be recognized as a paladin of Abadar is in the cathedral itself, Aurelius makes his way towards the six stones he's heard so much about in the past few days at the inn's common room. Though he wasn't sure if there was a priest of Abadar actually serving under Father Zanthus, this was the best place to start looking.

[Askel]

Uh, yes I suppose. I mean I haven't really seen very much of it yet, but it looks like there will be lots to do.

The rictus of terror fades off of Izzy's face as she begins talking.

I'm Izabetta Meresis, the new acolyte at the temple. Who are you? I feel like I've seen you around the town before but I might just be confused.

Zelgiel took Izabetta's hand in his and bowed slightly to her.

"I am Zelgiel Lowstring," the half-elf told her, reluctantly releasing her hand.

What soft hands... he noted to himself, then continued speaking, "I'm part of the town watch; I'm sure you must've seen me around once or twice. So... New acolyte, huh? Which temple are you part of?"

Zelgiel started walking casually as he spoke to the priestess, making his way gradually toward Ameiko's booth. He glanced around quickly, double checking that the sheriff wasn't watching.

Taking care not to interrupt Izabetta, Zelgiel asked her, "Can I buy you a drink? Let's call it a 'welcome to Sandpoint' toast. It'll be my treat?" Without waiting for a reply, Zelgiel turned to Ameiko. "Hey Ameiko, I'll take two meads and a plate of whatever it is that I was smelling clear across the square!"

As if to shout support of Zelgiel's order, his stomach rumbled loudly.

Got food, drink, and conversation. Now if only there was a place to sit... Maybe a nice tree, with some shade, next to the river... Yeah, that'd be great.

[Koryander]

"Two thousand gold?! That's Robbery! The parchment said twenty gold a month!"

The Aasimar was furious, Cyarra was fairly poor, this much was certain. But the advertisement said 20 gold a month to rent!

"Look, look at what you wrote. Twenty gold, rent before you buy! What are you trying to pull here exactly?!"

"With the intent to buy, missy. Read the fine print."

Cyarra grabbed the paper back, reading every nook and cranny of the sheet. There was nothing that implied... ahah! There, bottom left, in the excruciatingly small text.

"Deals with only the fullest intent to buy are accepted. A down payment of TWO THOUSAND GOLD is required to move forward with the transaction?! Maximum of two years of rental is allowed, a full purchase is required after stated amount of time?!"

Cyarra shoved the paper back into his hand, glaring under the darkness of her hood.

"The text is so small you can't even see anything! This is how you conduct 'business'?"

"Aye, this is how I conduct business alright. Take it or leave it." The man began to look her over, there was not much to see with the scale mail and the hood. He shrugged.

"Know what? Take the hood off, and then the rest of that getup, and THEN we'll talk about what twenty gold can get you." He gave a very, very coy grin.

Cyarra was not amused.

"Yeah? Come closer, I have some very small fine print for that as well."

The man cocked a brow and leaned forward, curious now. "Oh? and what are you gettin' at then?"

As the man leaned forward to inspect the "Fine Print", Cyarra's head plowed forward, right into his nose.

"A-Auuuughhh!! Wha' th' bloody hell?!"

Cyarra turned tail and angrily walked away.

"**** Robbin'"

With her mood temporarily wrecked. Again. Cyarra decided to just have a sit down and unwind for a moment. This was a festival, after all! Why she was trying to conduct business on the one day she could probably just slip into the crowd and have some entertainment? It made less and less sense as she thought about it more and more. She should sit down, cool herself off a bit, and then focus on something good for once.

Eyeing a nearby tree next to the river, she decided that was a good a place as any, and ventured forward.

[LordHavelock]

Aurelius is quickly able to catch sight of Father Zantus, nearby the entrance to the temple where a crowd of well-wishers have formed a line in order to congratulate him, shake hands, and share any lingering concerns or just a bit of idle talk, all of which the amicable Varisian is happy to provide. Wearing a robe long in the hem and sleeves of a slightly faded blue, it is embroidered with a simple pattern of Desna's moons and stars, he laughs and offers thanks and small blessings, and though he retains a mask of decorum, his gray-blue eyes sparkle with barely contained gratitude and joy. Abstalar, as Aurelius hear's him called by his first name, looks to be a surprisingly young man, judged only by the youthful look of his face, but the deference paid him by the other acolytes of the temple and their own apparent youth (not a one of them being older than Aurelius himself) it is difficult to believe he could be any younger than thirty. It's the better part of an hour before the young Judge of Abadar is close enough to the front of the line that Father Zantus takes notice of the armed and armored figure, quickly waving him over and up to the front. There are a few murmurs from the other well-wishers and even one young lady standing in line with her family who blushes as Aurelius passes. The sight of a clearly well groomed and well-bred personage as Aurelius is apparently enough to attract attention, whatever little else can be guessed about him and why the Father should wish to speak with him. Zantus offers a brief farewell to a pair of new parents with a babe before turning to greet Aurelius himself, pulling him somewhat aside from the crowd for a moment, and closer to the cathedral proper. "You must be the good arbiter of Abadar who has so recently arrived in our village. I bid you welcome, and following the blessing this evening I'm sure your presence at The Gold Fisted Lord's altar will be most welcome."

Abstalar's tone is kind and friendly even as he waves over another of his acolytes, while the remaining attempt to placate the crowd of well-wishers that Father Zantus will be glad to receive their thanks in person this evening after the Cathedral opens it's doors for the consecration. Steering Aurelius round to the north western corner of the structure, the acolyte, who wears a key around his neck almost identical to Aurelius's and a woolen robe dyed a darker shade of goldenrod. "Your arrival here is most timely, and I do hope your outings over the last two days have been informative about our town and its people?" Father Zantus speaks in a droll tone, and it's a long moment before it's apparent the good father is teasing Aurelius over his attempts to remain covert. "Everything meets with the approval of the Judge of the Gods, I presume." How precisely Abstalar came by his information is difficult to say, but at the moment he seems content and jovial enough to even give Aurelius a brief nudge and a wink, evoking a barely stifled chuckle from the acolyte of Abadar who trails them by a few paces.



"Kind to of you to offer to pay there, Zels." Intones Ameiko Tsujiko, the proprietor of the Rusty Dragon Inn and it's booth now currently set up at the Swallotail Festival as Zelgiel and Izzy approach. "Especially since everyone's first drink and dish are free, courtesy of the Sandpoint Mercantile League, minus the Scarnetti's less than generous contribution." The comment earns the lovely, and slightly provocatively attired Tian woman laughs and cheers from one of the many fans crowding her stand for more food or even a sidelong glance. Ameiko's bodice is cut just low past the point of decency, and leaves her shoulders and arms on full display, along with a few exotic tattoos, and her hair is done up in a three part top-knot that presumably took several years of preparation to effect. "Why don't you take the lady over to Risa's stand next. She's always had eyes for you." The boisterous ex-adventurer motions with the a graceful and agile motion that uses the whole of her torso towards the next booth down, where the kindly blind Varisian woman and her children serve potatoes spiced to compete with Ameiko's own delicious fare.

"Is that Watchman Lowstring, I hear?" Calls back the aging woman before she blows a surprisingly well-aimed kiss right towards the half-elf, "But who is that pretty young thing at your side? Could it be you think I'm too old for a handsome buck like yourself." The crowd at both stands laugh uproariously, Zelgiel receiving a clap on the back from one stranger, and the performance is enough for Ameiko to jump up on her booth and bow to the old sorceress, who bows in return before each turning back to their work, leaving Sandpoint's most notoriously lazy watchman to his affairs.



Following her ordeal and quick jaunt to the bluffs overlooking the Turandarok River, Cyarra finds a shadow suddenly casting itself across her view, a figure approaching from the festival grounds, tall, imposing, and as she turns to meet it, reveals itself to be none other than Sheriff Hemlock from the opening address. "Attending the festival out of a sense of devotion, or are you just here to harass the citizenry?" He asks, dour as the day is long, deep brown eyes seeming to pierce the veil of her hood as only the Shoanti seem to be able to manage. Whether it's just for show or if he really can tell what lies beneath is not clear though he remains impassive. "You should know you won't make many friends here if you keep up that sort of behavior . . ." He pauses and let's her feel the full weight of his heavy gaze before visibly relaxing and shrugging his shoulder, "But given the man whose nose you broke is a notorious racketeer, doing 'legitimate' business for the Scarnettis, you won't have me for an enemy. I'm Sheriff Hemlock, and I'd like to know your name and your business, but we can keep that on your terms, friendly or from what I've seen, private as you like. So long as it means I can keep the peace."

The good sheriff offers Cyarra his hand, less of a friendly gesture as it is a somewhat stilted expression of respect. "If you're looking for a place to stay, long term of short, I'd normally recommend the Rusty Dragon, as Ameiko has been around and is welcoming towards all sorts, especially travelers with a tale to tell. Given what I've seen of you so far though . . . I'd say you'd probably have a better go of things at the White Deer Inn or Risa's Place. The White Deer is newer, cleaner, but runs the same price in honor of the festival, and the proprietor is more of the silent type himself. Risa's is off the beaten path, you'll find more locals there, but Risa herself is our resident mistress of discretion, when occasion calls for it.

[Koryander]

Cyarra looks resolute at first, in what she has done and what she implied by doing it. But looking over the gruff man, she slowly averted her gaze, looking ashamed.

"For what its worth, I was rash. I'm sorry."

She took his hand and slowly shook it, the feeling she received from that handshake brought forth the aura of a good man trying to do his job. She let out a soft sigh and turned -just- enough so that the sun could get a good angle towards her face. The typical heavy shadows created by her hood dissipate just enough to give a decent view of her profile.

"I am not here for trouble, and I do not intend to cause anymore. My name is Cyarra, Cyarra Maewood, and I've come to stay... I hope."

Something about this guy. Something about his genuine concern for the people here. Damn her soft heart.

"I... am also here to forget, and to start over. Maybe these were all wrong first steps, but you've got a good look at me now Sheriff. And if there's anything I've learned over the years, its that a picture is worth a thousand words. Its your job to make an assessment of me now. Quite frankly, the rusty dragon sounds nice, as I would like to slowly... very slowly, assimilate myself to this town. And I can't do that by hiding in the shadows forever, I just... am not sure if I am ready yet. And honestly, if you were anything less than the sheriff you could bet your last platinum that I wouldn't be telling you all of this."

Her orange eyes showed no fear to this older man, no matter how seasoned he was. Does he even know what she is?

Did it even matter? The truth will come out eventually, but she had hopped it would have been far later than this. Still, there was no guarantee that he even knew what she was talking about... its not like Aasimar's were all that common. Just rumors and and fairytale, like unicorns.

"Honest to Iomedae's judgment, I just want to try my futile attempts at enjoying the fair, and then have a nice, calm life after that. A nice, calm, normal, every folk life. Am I barking up the wrong tree Sheriff? Because if I am, maybe its best if I don't even try."

[Feather Sigil]

headfirst over the edge and she lunged after him, arms outstretched, nearly following him off the bridge. By some miracle she managed to catch his flailing arm. His eyes immediately opened, and his swagger and viciousness were replaced by sheer frightened confusion. But his weight swung around, violently yanking him further down, his greasy hand slipping from hers. He never stopped staring at her, silently begging to be rescued as he drew ever closer to the rocks below

her ear jolted her out of the vision. Just ahead of her, some people danced to the side of the square. One couple was particularly lively, the woman leaping around and being tossed by the man, deftly and effortlessly caught. Sera turned away from them immediately, trying to slow her frantic and erratic breaths. Her fingers flexed, as if missing something.

"Miss?" She very nearly jumped. A young and clearly concerned man approached her. "Are you alright?"

Not at all, if her pounding heart had anything to say about it, but she gave him the best smile she could even as she very slightly shuffled away from him. Hopefully someone would move between them. "Oh, it's all this revelry, it's exhilarating! I haven't been to a festival like this in quite some time, and I'd almost forgotten how overwhelming it can be. I'll be fine, but I appreciate your asking. If you'll excuse me." The words, and a quick cutsey of her robe, hardly left her before Sera was off into the crowd, easily weaving through the ocean of bodies. Fortunately, the crowd was nowhere near as large as any in Magnimar; she could actually see patches of open space. People pressing in from all sides, the heat, the voices booming in her ears from everywhere at once, she needed even a little distance from that. Fortunately, she saw a small bench near the cathedral's northwestern corner--barely away from the crowd but unused, as everyone very close to the cathedral seemed to be attempting either to get in or to keep everyone else out. Sitting down, she shut her eyes and breathed deep, slow breaths. They shuddered and trembled at first, but gradually settled down along with her heartbeat. It wasn't long before she heard wings flapping overhead. Luna had almost always been within arm's reach for the past week, and Sera already become well accustomed to the sound of wingbeats.

"What happened to you?" The raven gently landed on her left shoulder, speaking softly. "You seemed frozen, yet a great pain writhed in your every thought. I had to bite your ear to bring you to your senses." There were hints of bitterness in that last remark, not only creeping into Luna's voice but projecting from her somehow, like the sensation of someone watching her from behind, only as an annoyed glare. At the same time, Sera could feel it as if the feeling was her own, though she knew that it wasn't.

After making sure no one was paying any attention to her, Sera replied just as softly. "I was watching those people dancing, and then suddenly...I was on the bridge again. That same nightmare." Since that night, she'd had frequent nightmares about it, each time so vivid that she might have sworn she actually travelled back in time over and over again, but not until today had it invaded her waking mind. Perhaps it was simply an additional punishment, the will of whatever cruelty so utterly ruined her life.

"A trauma powerful enough to appear as a daydream--no doubt prompted by the sight of the dancers."

Sera sighed and looked up at the clear skies. Because I don't have enough to deal with as it is. "Is there nothing you can do?"

"For the last time, no. Would that you were but you are not ready. In time the event will fade."

But which was worse? If the memory never faded with time, or if it did and took any remorse she had with it? She could never regard it as nothing, just another event. How could any decent person--how could Luna watch someone die by her hand and feel nothing? If it was a punishment, transforming happy sights into reminders of her deeds, this would be the first she actually deserved.

"'Twould help if you stopped blaming yourself..." Luna gestured towards the crowd with a wing. "...or tried once more to enjoy yourself. You are innocent, why should you not?"

A particularly loud bout of laughter and snippets of conversation caught Sera's attention. Two of the food vendors discussing someone, joking and having fun like old friends while the people around them bathed in the spectacle. Sandpoint was smaller than she'd thought when she first arrived, and from what she'd seen of the townsfolk's interactions the past week it seemed the sort of place that tended to breed familiarity. One could develop a genuine sense of community and family here, but that was exactly what she didn't want. The more familiar she was, the more likely someone would eventually figure out who she really was and then betray her for the bounty. It could very well be a terrible idea for her to stay, despite Garth's recommendation. But where would she go?

Speaking of which, I should get moving again. I've stayed at this bench long enough.


We're supposed to include our statblocks in our first post, right?


Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 12, Touch 12, Flat-footed 10, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 1
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities Low-light vision
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Nightmare of the Mouse (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/r/ray-of-enfeeblement)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

[Recherché]

Uh, Desna

Izzy wishes she'd gone ahead and worn her official robes as she cautiously removes her hand from the stranger's

I haven't been here very long and most of the time I have been in Sandpoint I was making preparations for the festival or getting settled in. So I don't think I've seen you before.

When Zelgiel moves away Izzy pauses for a second and then moves to follow him.

I suppose its a good a way as any to meet people. Besides he doesn't seem bad. Overly enthusiastic perhaps but not bad

By the time she's caught up with the much larger man he's already being teased by the proprietor of the stall she'd eaten at before. At first Izzy simply keeps quiet observing their banter and trying not to stair at the woman's bodice, Ameiko she thinks Zegliel called her. However as the altercation goes on Izzy can't help but let a smile creep up on her face.

Ah I'm sorry. I was not aware that I was stealing your young man. My apologies good lady, should I return him to you?

[Melquiades]

I'm so tired... Clive thought as he sat down for a moment. The way I remember it, this musket was way lighter back in the day...

The Swallowtail Festival seemed to be running without incident so far, thanks a great deal to Clive being sober. He observed the comings and goings of the people in the festival, and was amused when his eyes distinguished, even at such distance, that Ameiko was making fun of that lazy guard. That little **** Zels, you gotta give it to him, the boy knows how to have fun... He scared himself when he noticed he was being nostalgic. What was it? Something in that image? Reminded him of Adele? Nah, it's been too long. My mind is playing me tricks...

It occurred to him that Lucas might have played a trick on him too. Maybe he is coming just for the Consecration? Maybe his client is some religious nuts... Some kids passed by, chasing a butterfly. He thought for a moment about giving it a try, but then... Right! If some hot shot from Magnimar is going to be here today, I'm sure Kendra knows who he is!, Clive walked hurriedly after realizing that. Where is that woman? Where is she?

[LordHavelock]

Cyarra looks resolute at first, in what she has done and what she implied by doing it. But looking over the gruff man, she slowly averted her gaze, looking ashamed.

"For what its worth, I was rash. I'm sorry."

She took his hand and slowly shook it, the feeling she received from that handshake brought forth the aura of a good man trying to do his job. She let out a soft sigh and turned -just- enough so that the sun could get a good angle towards her face. The typical heavy shadows created by her hood dissipate just enough to give a decent view of her profile.

"I am not here for trouble, and I do not intend to cause anymore. My name is Cyarra, Cyarra Maewood, and I've come to stay... I hope."

Something about this guy. Something about his genuine concern for the people here. Damn her soft heart.

"I... am also here to forget, and to start over. Maybe these were all wrong first steps, but you've got a good look at me now Sheriff. And if there's anything I've learned over the years, its that a picture is worth a thousand words. Its your job to make an assessment of me now. Quite frankly, the rusty dragon sounds nice, as I would like to slowly... very slowly, assimilate myself to this town. And I can't do that by hiding in the shadows forever, I just... am not sure if I am ready yet. And honestly, if you were anything less than the sheriff you could bet your last platinum that I wouldn't be telling you all of this."

Her orange eyes showed no fear to this older man, no matter how seasoned he was. Does he even know what she is?

Did it even matter? The truth will come out eventually, but she had hopped it would have been far later than this. Still, there was no guarantee that he even knew what she was talking about... its not like Aasimar's were all that common. Just rumors and and fairytale, like unicorns.

"Honest to Iomedae's judgment, I just want to try my futile attempts at enjoying the fair, and then have a nice, calm life after that. A nice, calm, normal, every folk life. Am I barking up the wrong tree Sheriff? Because if I am, maybe its best if I don't even try."
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Hemlock replies, "But the fact that you're willing to counts for a lot to my way of thinking." His tone is still stern, but almost bordering towards considerate after a fashion, as he lets Cyarra continue.

When Cyarra pulls her hood far back enough though, Hemlock's icy demeanor cracks, just slightly as his eyes widen for just a moment, taking on a rare-glimpsed gleam in reflecting the Aasimar's beauty. "You're a- . . . ." Hemlock pauses, catching himself, and just like that his previous imperturbability reasserts itself, "You're welcome to stay, and you're welcome to whatever peace can be had in Sandpoint." Hemlock says, recovering with marked aplomb. "There's plenty of folks round here looking to do exactly that, and then there's the folks like me who try to make sure their free to do so. So long as you try to be in either of those camps, you're fine by me, whatever else has happened, or whoever else you were. Welcome to Sandpoint Cyarra Maewood, and you can trust me at least not to go starting any rumors about you."

Before any more can be said, a runner from the town guard makes his way hurriedly over towards them both, hailing Sheriff Hemlock. The tall Shoanti immediately turns to obscure the view of Cyarra for at least a moment, taking a few steps away to give her suitable space. "Sir! Reporting sir, a lordly type arrived from the south road, asking for you sir. Rather rudely, sir, begging your pardon, permission to speak freely and all that . . ." The runner catches his breath a bit, Hemlock using the moment to glance back towards Cyarra, though his eyes betray nothing, "Said he wouldn't wait another minute, that he'd see you at the festival, and expected your full attention sir. Left Dachs and Breggi as escort sir, take him the roundabout way up the cliffs in case you want to meet him at the garrison . . ."

"No need for that, son. I'll meet him here, so long as he doesn't cause too much of a fuss." Hemlock says before sending the messenger back on his way and turning to bow by way of farewell to Cyarra, apparently no more interested in her presence than when their conversation began, despite this odd coincidence. Before he departs though, he looks back over his shoulder before speaking once more, his tone measured, with just an air of caution.

"The Rusty Dragon is a fine place to start, but if you want to get a head start on stymieing whatever rumors are bound to start, have a talk with Father Zantus before the day is through. Tell him I sent you, and show him what you showed me privately. He'll know why."


Risa responds with a jovial cackle as Izzy plays her part in the joke on Zelgiel, "No, no, that's all right deary. Though I'd appreciate a heads up when you're finished with him, and I'd be happy to arrange an introduction to my boy Vodger here in return. He's a real hard worker, and I don't just mean compared to Layabout Lowstring there." The tall varisian boy currently stacking supplies at the back of the booth turns around and immediately starts blushing, not quite able to muster a comment before going back to his work double time. "See what I mean?"

The good humor and joviality is diminished somewhat however, when a group of men make their way through the double line of stalls and booths, apparently uncaring for food or merriment or anyone else's good times, as they muscle or shoulder through the crowd. Six in total, four looking to be caravan guards carrying arms and wearing badges with the sigil of Magnimar, a fifth whose clothes and slightly unkempt appearance suggest a guide of some sort, and finally a tall, dark haired man with traditional Chelaxian features. The brusque demeanor of the small company meets with a cold reception from the festival goers, earning them no quick friends, but they are forgotten as soon as they are past, though blind Risa's milky eyes linger in their direction as they depart. "A Scarnetti from Magnimar, on important business no doubt, or I'm an Aboleth's Aunt." She says, to no one in particular, but Ameiko arches an eyebrow whilst serving her next customer. Before she can pass comment however, Risa turns back towards her and waggles a finger, "I can pick one of them snobs out by smell alone young lady, so no silly questions. Besides, what should really be bothering you is how I knew you were going to ask." And with that she's back to minding the booth with her three children, leaving a wide-eyed Ameiko to nearly spill ale all over Zelgiel.



I'm so tired... Clive thought as he sat down for a moment. The way I remember it, this musket was way lighter back in the day...

The Swallowtail Festival seemed to be running without incident so far, thanks a great deal to Clive being sober. He observed the comings and goings of the people in the festival, and was amused when his eyes distinguished, even at such distance, that Ameiko was making fun of that lazy guard. That little **** Zels, you gotta give it to him, the boy knows how to have fun... He scared himself when he noticed he was being nostalgic. What was it? Something in that image? Reminded him of Adele? Nah, it's been too long. My mind is playing me tricks...

It occurred to him that Lucas might have played a trick on him too. Maybe he is coming just for the Consecration? Maybe his client is some religious nuts... Some kids passed by, chasing a butterfly. He thought for a moment about giving it a try, but then... Right! If some hot shot from Magnimar is going to be here today, I'm sure Kendra knows who it is!, Clive walked hurriedly after realizing that. Where is that woman? Where is she?

With more than a few folks meandering about the festival less-than-sober, Clive attracts more and more looks and glances from those used to regularly seeing him drunk. True, that drunkeness has been less and less carried out in public at one of Sandpoint's taverns (or it's streets) but with the usual drunkards already raucously milling about, it's a shock to most of Sandpoint's older generation not to see Clive knocking back mugs of ale with the best of them. There's certainly enough to go around, as the ale, mead, and cider flows freely, jugs of wine making their way around tables, and even a few harder spirits are sampled or partaken here and there. Younger folks and children however are quick to write off 'Old Man Boonie' as being in attendance purely to sulk, uncaring about whether he's sober or not, with the casual frivolity only children can truly manage.

It's not until Sheriff Hemlock passes by, clearly in a hurry, that anyone since that first boy with his comment about the Hagfish actually pauses to say anything to him. Arching an eyebrow, his gaze travels from Clive's eyes, to the musket on his back, and then back again before Hemlock gives the older man a long stare up and down, noting the steadiness of his posture and demeanor. "Boonie," He says, nodding by way of greeting, "Good to see you . . ." Hemlock apparently has enough tack not add anything else on to the end of that statement, before a bit of a commotion over by Ameiko's booth, where Clive had just been watching catches both their attention. Seems a small group of travelers are making dead on for the stage by the Cathedral, and the Sheriff spares not another moment for the retired adventurer as he hurries to intercept them before they can start more of a stir than they already have.

The party of newcomers totals six, one highborn type, with a critical eye and plenty of swagger, four of whatever thugs pass for his guards, and one young man with ash blonde hair carrying a longbow slung across his back, and at his belt, a rather unique sword. As their party turns towards Hemlock, who has been joined by three or four of his young deputies, Clive gets a good look at the youngest of the newcomer's party, eyes almost fixing on him from even this distance, as he sets sight upon his son, Lucas, for the first time in years.

[Koryander]

Why did she reveal so much to the sheriff? It was a question she asked herself, with no good answers.

In truth, he seemed honorable enough. A man who was working off of care and concern for his people, and it didn't get more small-time honorable then that... it was a shame Cyarra respected stuff like that too damned much. In truth, she'd rather a upstanding sheriff like Hemlock figure it all out before a guy like Guards McNosypants at the front of the town. She'll just have to trust that the guardsmen of this town knew how to keep their mouths shut for at least a little while. Last thing she wanted was any rough and tumble with the guards, their job was hard enough as it is.


"No need for that, son. I'll meet him here, so long as he doesn't cause too much of a fuss." Hemlock says before sending the messenger back on his way and turning to bow by way of farewell to Cyarra, apparently no more interested in her presence than when their conversation began, despite this odd coincidence. Before he departs though, he looks back over his shoulder before speaking once more, his tone measured, with just an air of caution.

"The Rusty Dragon is a fine place to start, but if you want to get a head start on stymieing whatever rumors are bound to start, have a talk with Father Zantus before the day is through. Tell him I sent you, and show him what you showed me privately. He'll know why."

Cyarra gently nodded back at the gruff old man.

"Thank you sheriff. I appreciate the kindness."

As she watched the man hustle away with the runner, she could only raise one eyebrow at the sudden commotion. Call her crazy, but it seemed like trouble.

"Huh. Alright then."

Cyarra put her cowl back over her head, and began to follow. She took the less conspicuous route, diving headfirst into the crowd and pushing through, nameless face after nameless face glanced at the hooded woman.

"Well, that was rude!"
"My word, someone's trying to get to the food stands before Ameiko runs out! Hah!"
"Huh, I wonder where that one is off to?"

As she shoved out towards the other side, she kept a clear eye on Sheriff Hemlock from her distance, making way towards a bench... it held a good view of everything going on. As she moved towards it, she realized their was already a woman sitting upon it. She gave her best kindly smile and sat down next to her.

"Is there room for two? My legs are killing me, been walking all day long."

Call it a gut feeling, but something was wrong. She didn't want to be conspicuous about it towards the sheriff, but she had every intent on keeping tabs for now, watching the scene unfold from a distance. She glanced over to the woman with the raven perched on her shoulder and smiled, once again, her best smile. It was only for a moment, as her eyes trailed back to the Sheriff and these newcomers that seemed to be 'greeting' him.

'Fancy shmancy highborn.'

"Enjoying yourself today? Or are you a perpetual downer like I am?" she said softly to Sera, her smile turning somewhat sadder, and double checking that her hood was down all the way once again... but still, eyes focused on the sheriff, eyes focused on the crowd.

Something wasn't sitting well with her.

[Askel]

"Kind to of you to offer to pay there, Zels." Intones Ameiko Tsujiko, the proprietor of the Rusty Dragon Inn and it's booth now currently set up at the Swallotail Festival as Zelgiel and Izzy approach. "Especially since everyone's first drink and dish are free, courtesy of the Sandpoint Mercantile League, minus the Scarnetti's less than generous contribution." The comment earns the lovely, and slightly provocatively attired Tian woman laughs and cheers from one of the many fans crowding her stand for more food or even a sidelong glance.

Zelgiel took one of the flagons and raised it.

"To the Sandpoint Mercantile League, then," he mock cried, then took a tiny sip of the mead, savoring the taste.


"Why don't you take the lady over to Risa's stand next. She's always had eyes for you." The boisterous ex-adventurer motions with the a graceful and agile motion that uses the whole of her torso towards the next booth down, where the kindly blind Varisian woman and her children serve potatoes spiced to compete with Ameiko's own delicious fare.

Zelgiel looked over at the mentioned booth, his eyes widening slightly in alarm.


"Is that Watchman Lowstring, I hear?" Calls back the aging woman before she blows a surprisingly well-aimed kiss right towards the half-elf, "But who is that pretty young thing at your side? Could it be you think I'm too old for a handsome buck like yourself." The crowd at both stands laugh uproariously, Zelgiel receiving a clap on the back from one stranger, and the performance is enough for Ameiko to jump up on her booth and bow to the old sorceress, who bows in return before each turning back to their work, leaving Sandpoint's most notoriously lazy watchman to his affairs.

"Old? Risa, you don't look a day past twenty. Twenty-five, maybe," Zelgiel replied as smoothly as he could, "This is Izabetta. She's a priestess. I promised her a drink."

He could feel that this was not quite going how he'd hoped. He took Izabetta's flagon and moved to hand it to her, but she was smiling.


Ah I'm sorry. I was not aware that I was stealing your young man. My apologies good lady, should I return him to you?

Zelgiel grinned despite himself and shook his head, passing off the flagon and taking his plate from Ameiko.


Risa responds with a jovial cackle as Izzy plays her part in the joke on Zelgiel, "No, no, that's all right deary. Though I'd appreciate a heads up when you're finished with him, and I'd be happy to arrange an introduction to my boy Vodger here in return. He's a real hard worker, and I don't just mean compared to Layabout Lowstring there." The tall varisian boy currently stacking supplies at the back of the booth turns around and immediately starts blushing, not quite able to muster a comment before going back to his work double time. "See what I mean?"

"Yeah, heh heh," Zelgiel chuckled dryly, waving Risa away like a fly, then turned back to Izabetta, "Would you care to sit down somewhere?"


The good humor and joviality is diminished somewhat however, when a group of men make their way through the double line of stalls and booths, apparently uncaring for food or merriment or anyone else's good times, as they muscle or shoulder through the crowd. Six in total, four looking to be caravan guards carrying arms and wearing badges with the sigil of Magnimar, a fifth whose clothes and slightly unkempt appearance suggest a guide of some sort, and finally a tall, dark haired man with traditional Chelaxian features. The brusque demeanor of the small company meets with a cold reception from the festival goers, earning them no quick friends, but they are forgotten as soon as they are past, though blind Risa's milky eyes linger in their direction as they depart. "A Scarnetti from Magnimar, on important business no doubt, or I'm an Aboleth's Aunt." She says, to no one in particular, but Ameiko arches an eyebrow whilst serving her next customer. Before she can pass comment however, Risa turns back towards her and waggles a finger, "I can pick one of them snobs out by smell alone young lady, so no silly questions. Besides, what should really be bothering you is how I knew you were going to ask." And with that she's back to minding the booth with her three children, leaving a wide-eyed Ameiko to nearly spill ale all over Zelgiel.

"Hey now!" Zelgiel exclaimed, tipping Ameiko's hand back up before she could spill anything on him, "I'm in uniform; can't have any more alcohol stains on it... Sheriff's orders."

Despite his earlier question to Izabetta, Zelgiel watched the supposed Scarnetti intently.

He doesn't exactly look thrilled to be here, does he? I wonder what that's all about. Ah well. That's Belor's problem now, I suppose.

"Shall we sit?" Zelgiel finally repeated to Izabetta, tearing his eyes away from the somewhat rude party.

Knowledge Local to identify any of the people in that party:
[roll0]
Perception check, because Perception check:
[roll1]

[King Tius]

Aurelius's look of surprise quickly turns to a deep, embarrassed blush as he avoids Father Zantus's eyes and rubs the back of his neck. "I...uh...well...see...it's...it's my first time out on my own. Yes, you have a fine town and a lovely cathedral. Is there...is there anything I can help you with? I don't have much in the way of coin and I won't be able to afford the inn forever. Funnily enough my mentors spent so much time teaching me the letter of the law and how to fight that they neglected to mention how a wandering judge is supposed to keep himself warm and dry." Having regained his composure, Aurelius returns Zanthus's good humor with some of his own. Between his good looks and his quick wit, he'd never had any trouble making friends, especially with the young debutantes in Magnimar.

[Melquiades]

As Sheriff Hemlock runs to the recently arrived party, Clive is left somewhat stunned by his reaction. What was that? Maybe he was just glad that he wouldn't have to deal with Clive picking up fights today, with everything else that was happening, but he felt that there was something else in his expression...

Finally, his eyes rest on the person that must be his son. Clive has to resist the urge to start running towards him and give him a hug. That would do no good, given the way we said goodbye to each other last time... Besides, he is working. I would only make him ashamed. Has he really grown that much? He starts to approach the party from an angle that would make him easily visible to his son, and tries to watch his reaction.

I'm here, I'm here, look at me, look at me...

[Feather Sigil]

Why in all the gods' names would I want to hide in Magnimar's very backyard?!

Where would you rather go?

Anywhere! Kaer Maga. Riddleport, if I wanted to take a ship.

Hm, yeah, good choices. Easy to get to by river, easy to disappear in. Riddleport: easy to work up a bit of gold, hop on a ship to Katapesh and never be seen again. And if I were looking for you I'd beeline to cities like those, so I could reach them before you did and watch you walk right into my trap.

But surely--

--there are still better options? Pick one. They're going to search every major city, every town on every river, raid all of your summer homes. But Sandpoint? No convict would be stupid enough to hide next door to the scene of the crime. Even if they do search it, I doubt it'd be much of a search party.

Are--I don't believe this--are you listening to yourself?

Look--

You're asking me to participate in a plan that is literally 'so crazy it just might work'. This isn't an adventure novel, Garth!

It's called hiding in plain sight, Princess, and you'd be surprised how effective it can be. Besides, realistically it's your only option on foot, unless you think you can find asylum in Windsong Abbey.

By then it was too late anyway. For most of their journey she had simply followed in silence, muted by her misery, her thoughts a frothing mire of every moment from the caucus onward, and the growing realization with each passing day that there was no going back, no recovery, no waking up in her room after the most terrible of nightmares...and some small, private hatred for Garth, who had the audacity to try to keep her safe even if it meant tearing her from her parents. The feeling was as repugnant as it was petty, but it wasn't easily dispelled. Even now, as Sera sat there on the bench, unaccosted, surrounded by merriment on a bright day, something in her still wished her was there so she could slap him and ask how he dared, but she would never do that. Decency and friendship aside, she owed him her life, and she really wished he was there so she wouldn't be as alone. At least then she could apologize for not being more grateful. Sighing, Sera made to rise from the bench, but stopped at the touch of Luna's wing on her cheek.

"Wait."

"What is--"

"Shhh, let me listen."

Suddenly Sera could hear the change in the noise. Not as jubilant, and angry voices rang out somewhere within it. She quickly spotted Sheriff Hemlock arguing with some armed men, and felt the concern ringing through Luna. Though she couldn't hear their words over the many other conversations around her, there was no doubt in her mind as to why they were there.

"They're here for me, aren't they?"

"Likely. They are from Magnimar, and at least one is a Scarnetti."

Sera shut her eyes and hissed through her nose. Damn you, Garth!

"Be calm. They are looking for someone, a fugitive responsible for multiple deaths and flagrant violation of the law. They are clearly eager to begin their hunt--one of them blusters like a dog straining against its leash, but Sheriff Hemlock is unpeturbed. He seems an unflappable man... He has agreed to cooperate and suggested continuing their discussion at the town garrison while the festival continues. They're not fond of his decision."

"We have to g-"

"No. Do not move until...on your left."

Looking past Luna, Sera saw the hooded woman speaking to her. She quickly straightened herself and looked to the sky again, keeping the side of her headscarf facing the Scarnetti.

"I've never been one for enormous parties, but being here taking in the decor and the energy is enough. I'm sorry that even a fine day like this isn't enough to brighten your mood, though. If you don't mind my asking, what has you so eternally troubled?" Probably too personal of a question, but the conversation was hardly her chief concern. As long as she could feign happiness and be pleasant, that would be enough. As much as she would have loved to simply disappear in this moment, if she tried to run now there was a chance she could attract their attention. It was better to wait until Sheriff Hemlock took them away.

[Koryander]

Cyarra frowned deeply, she eyed Sera... slowly and calmly.

"Something really IS wrong, two and two are not entirely adding up to four just yet, but..."

"Eternally troubled is a way to put it."

Cyarra's eyes specifically sought out Luna's, and for a brief moment she made eye contact with the crow. She gave it a long, curious look.

"Not to spoil my entire life to you... But I have problems assimilating with societies. Its been a life long issue of mine, and it was something I've been looking to conquer. You see, its a part of who I am and what makes me different."

Her eyes trailed back over to Sera's... something had her spooked.

"I'm a wanderer, I travel town to town following an impulse to protect and help people in need. Its something unavoidable, like a crusade that I can't deny nor escape. I came here hoping to finally put all of that behind me, but its becoming clear that it may be a bigger struggle than I anticipated. Already I've found myself in two situations that ended less than spectacularly."

Honesty is good. Cyarra wanted to at least be forward with the girl before she started to poke and prod a little bit.

"I think I want to give it my best shot here regardless. And that impulse to protect I spoke about earlier? Its already itching at my back again. I wish I could avoid it, but I cant. Something is wrong here, something I can't put my finger on."

Cyarra wished nothing more than to make what she said just prose and poetry for fine conversation and dramatic effect. But it was there again, something was wrong and she needed to make sure things were on the level. And right now...?

Her eyes gazed back over to the gathering by Hemlock. She really didn't like what she was seeing over there.

"How about you then? You seem chipper for someone who was so worried only moments ago."

Cyarra looked to Sera again, trying her best to give a warm smile.

"I can't help but feel like something's got you more worried than you're letting on. Are you okay?"

[Recherché]

Sure

Izzy grabs the offered drink and gulps it a bit too quickly giving herself time to gather her thoughts.

So, ah, what exactly is a Scarnetti. And should I be worried about them? It looks like everyone else is upset or insulting.

Izzy wanders towards the riverbank trying to give the group in the square a wide berth while still keeping an eye on them

[Askel]

Zelgiel walked along with Izabetta, completely at ease. He couldn't exactly eat his food as he walked, given that his other hand was holding his drink, but he enjoyed the spicy smell.

"What's a Scarnetti? You don't have those where you're from?" Zelgiel asks, snickering at his own humor, "I don't know about that Scarnetti, but around here, Scarnetti is another way of saying 'prude'. Not the nicest folks; always filing grievances with this person or that person. 'Watch, arrest that man! Watch, protect my assets! Watch, make those perverts leave my town! Watch, I'm not paying you so you can nap on the job!' Stuff like that. I'm not surprised at the general unrest."

Despite his lax attitude, Zelgiel kept his own eyes on them, too. He didn't really want to get involved with that, especially given the undoubtedly political nature of whatever was happening, but he still had a job to do.

Nuts. I should have just taken the day off...

[LordHavelock]

Aurelius's look of surprise quickly turns to a deep, embarrassed blush as he avoids Father Zantus's eyes and rubs the back of his neck. "I...uh...well...see...it's...it's my first time out on my own. Yes, you have a fine town and a lovely cathedral. Is there...is there anything I can help you with? I don't have much in the way of coin and I won't be able to afford the inn forever. Funnily enough my mentors spent so much time teaching me the letter of the law and how to fight that they neglected to mention how a wandering judge is supposed to keep himself warm and dry." Having regained his composure, Aurelius returns Zanthus's good humor with some of his own. Between his good looks and his quick wit, he'd never had any trouble making friends, especially with the young debutantes in Magnimar.

“You have nothing to fear, my son, we at the cathedral will welcome your assistance as much as you are welcome to what is ours. Acolyte Leonus here is a fellow devotee of The Master of Vaults, and has graciously offered to share his housing with you should need be.” The young man (barely out of boyhood) nods politely, but remains silent, despite an admonishing look from Zantus, “He’s not much of one for conversation outside the sanctuary, but an avid learner and I’m sure there’s much you could discuss together. You’re also welcome to share in the chores and duties of the other acolytes in exchange for room and board here with us.”

As they round the corner of the Cathedral, Father Zantus gives Aurelius a knowing look. “However, I’m sure you didn’t venture from your home to seek sanctuary amongst us cloistered ascetics. The Lost Coast offers a multitude of opportunities for a brave and noble judge of Abadar such as yourself, no doubt seeking to bring justice and civility to these lands. Sheriff Hemlock would likely be helpful for what support you can offer him, though he is a cautious man by nature, and would no doubt prefer Abadar’s name be left out of official watch business so as not to show any favoritism . . .” Abstalar trails off however as they come once again in view of the main square, his eyes immediately drawn to where Hemlock is even now engaged in apparently heated conversation with some newcomers to the festival.

“Now for instance, I doubt he’d want me or anyone else to intervene in dealing with . . . what I presume to be a party from Magnimar, though not one of those we were expecting . . .” Father Zantus is clearly concerned for the moment, but moves quickly on. “Regardless, I have some preparations to make for the blessing of the site, and you I think should enjoy the remainder of the Festival. Worry later about what has brought you here and how you will get by, your patron no doubt has plans for you here in Sandpoint, and now that you have a better sense of your bearings, I have no doubt Abadar’s will be made known to you soon. Try talking to Ameiko at the Rusty Dragon’s booth if you’re looking to take the initiative. Or” Father Zantus continues, indicating two figures seated at the benth not 10 yards in front of them “You might see what see what has these two engrossed in such conversation. The lady looks as though something might be troubling her, and her friend with their hood pulled low no doubt has matters of concern herself.”

With that Father Zantus nods his head and makes a small benediction from Desna by way of farewell, departing towards the entrance of the Cathedral and wagon which until a few hours ago contained the swarm of Swallowtails. Acolyte Leonus follows, bowing deferentially to Aurelius before hurrying off.


Whatever conversation has transpired between the visiting party from Magnimar and Sheriff Hemlock does not appear to have pleased the Scarnetti Nobleman but at last he seems to assent to leave the festival square, with a posse of the town watch in tow. The sole person to remain is the youngest of their party, with a hefty longbow across his back and the silver-handled sword at his hip, who after taking a quick survey of the festival grounds around him, makes his way southward towards the bluffs.



As Sheriff Hemlock runs to the recently arrived party, Clive is left somewhat stunned by his reaction. What was that? Maybe he was just glad that he wouldn't have to deal with Clive picking up fights today, with everything else that was happening, but he felt that there was something else in his expression...

Finally, his eyes rest on the person that must be his son. Clive has to resist the urge to start running towards him and give him a hug. That would do no good, given the way we said goodbye to each other last time... Besides, he is working. I would only make him ashamed. Has he really grown that much? He starts to approach the party from an angle that would make him easily visible to his son, and tries to watch his reaction.

I'm here, I'm here, look at me, look at me...
As the rest of the party accompanying Lucas departs, the young man remains behind peering back and then forth, taking in all the sights of the festival before his eyes settle fixedly on Clive. As if in response to the fervent thoughts in Old Man Boonie’s head, he walks purposefully towards him, approaching to within a matter of yards before he stops firmly, staring impassively forward, with one thumb between the loop of his sword-belt, and the hanging onto the haft of his bow.

“Hello, Father. I see you cleaned up for the festival a bit.” Comes the greeting, dripping with icy civility, as Lucas stares down his old man with an impassive gaze, the gray in his eyes reflecting a measure of Adele’s blue as well.

[Melquiades]

"Aye!", replies Boonie in a loud voice, suddenly becoming a completely different person. You'd never guess that that man spoke only four words so far in the Festival. "But you're quite different as well, son.", Clive says with a hand on his belt, while he gets closer to Lucas.

This isn't going too bad. We didn't even hit each other yet.

To be fair, Clive wasn't expecting anything else. If he wanted respect, and maybe even love from Lucas someday, he knew he had to earn it. He started shooting out words, without giving him a chance to reply. "Seems like you created quite a havoc with your arrival. You never really told me who was hiring you. What was that all about?"

There was a lot to talk between then, but he should give his son a chance to reply. While he waited, his eyes fixated on the bow, his thoughts wandering...

This isn't the time, Clive, but you're dying to know... Can he shoot?

[Recherché]

Zelgiel walked along with Izabetta, completely at ease. He couldn't exactly eat his food as he walked, given that his other hand was holding his drink, but he enjoyed the spicy smell.

"What's a Scarnetti? You don't have those where you're from?" Zelgiel asks, snickering at his own humor, "I don't know about that Scarnetti, but around here, Scarnetti is another way of saying 'prude'. Not the nicest folks; always filing grievances with this person or that person. 'Watch, arrest that man! Watch, protect my assets! Watch, make those perverts leave my town! Watch, I'm not paying you so you can nap on the job!' Stuff like that. I'm not surprised at the general unrest."

Despite his lax attitude, Zelgiel kept his own eyes on them, too. He didn't really want to get involved with that, especially given the undoubtedly political nature of whatever was happening, but he still had a job to do.

Nuts. I should have just taken the day off...


Nope, no Scarnetti on the road, or at least not the road my kin walk. "Prudes" huh, that doesn't sound so bad. And isn't protecting people and their assets your job. Though I'm not so sure about making people leave town.

Izzy keeps her eye on the group as they disperse, her face quizzical.

Do you know what the innkeeper, Ameiko I think her name was, what her deal with them is? That looked like it was some really bad blood.

I shouldn't be involved in this. Its not my cart, not my horse. But still . . .

[LordHavelock]

"Aye!", replies Boonie in a loud voice, suddenly becoming a completely different person. You'd never guess that that man spoke only four words so far in the Festival. "But you're quite different as well, son.", Clive says with a hand on his belt, while he gets closer to Lucas.

This isn't going too bad. We didn't even hit each other yet.

To be fair, Clive wasn't expecting anything else. If he wanted respect, and maybe even love from Lucas someday, he knew he had to earn it. He started shooting out words, without giving him a chance to reply. "Seems like you created quite a havoc with your arrival. You never really told me who was hiring you. What was that all about?"

There was a lot to talk between then, but he should give his son a chance to reply. While he waited, his eyes fixated on the bow, his thoughts wandering...

This isn't the time, Clive, but you're dying to know... Can he shoot?

"I wasn't suppose to send a letter in advance at all. The highborn hired me for my 'discretion' but I wasn't about to let some Scarnetti tell me I couldn't go back to my home town without . . ." Lucas trails off, a smile having crept back onto his features for just a moment. He sighs, dejected, and let's his hands fall to his sides looking down to the ground before he looks back up, face hardened into an impassive mask. "Look, Clive," The name is almost torn from Lucas's lips, "I didn't come here for some heart to heart, or to make amends with the man who threw me out of my mother's home . . . I'm here for that."

Lucas raises one arm, pointing directly past Clive, his eyes not meeting his father's gaze and fixing directly on the musket slung over his shoulder.

"I left and started making my way as a guide, all over the Lost Coast, then a tracker, helping to hunt beasts and other creatures, then . . . I found I was good enough at it to start tracking runaways, fugitives, and now some highborn brat who killed a bunch of folk out of magnimar. The Scarnetti there is convinced they're dangerous and hiding somewhere around these parts. Important thing is, I can make good use of that weapon . . . and you can't."

[Melquiades]

"I wasn't suppose to send a letter in advance at all. The highborn hired me for my 'discretion' but I wasn't about to let some Scarnetti tell me I couldn't go back to my home town without . . ." Lucas trails off, a smile having crept back onto his features for just a moment. He sighs, dejected, and let's his hands fall to his sides looking down to the ground before he looks back up, face hardened into an impassive mask. "Look, Clive," The name is almost torn from Lucas's lips, "I didn't come here for some heart to heart, or to make amends with the man who threw me out of my mother's home . . . I'm here for that."

Lucas raises one arm, pointing directly past Clive, his eyes not meeting his father's gaze and fixing directly on the musket slung over his shoulder.

"I left and started making my way as a guide, all over the Lost Coast, then a tracker, helping to hunt beasts and other creatures, then . . . I found I was good enough at it to start tracking runaways, fugitives, and now some highborn brat who killed a bunch of folk out of magnimar. The Scarnetti there is convinced they're dangerous and hiding somewhere around these parts. Important thing is, I can make good use of that weapon . . . and you can't."


Clive sighs, somewhat disappointed at his son. He slowly unslings the weapon on his back, putting the butt plate on the ground and holding it, so Lucas can get a clear view of it. "Are you telling me that you came all this way, after all this time, because of this stupid thing? That you lied that you wanted to see me, talk to me, because of this? That I stopped drinking because I have a stupid son who cares about nothing but himself?! And don't tell me how much that description fits with me when we last saw each other, because I know! Your mother had died, can't you at least sympathize with what I was going through?!? Do you know how much I loved her? Wasn't I a good father in all those years before?! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN THIS PIECE OF GARBAGE TO YOU IF YOU CAME HERE TO MAKE PEACE, LUCAS!

His face is red when he finishes the last sentence. Boonie spits on the ground, looking at his son and showing only the deepest contempt.

Frack it.

"Y'know what? Last time we saw each other, I beat your ass to the ground and I wasn't even sober. You want a piece of your old man? You can come and get it."

Clive picks up the musket, even though he isn't aiming at Lucas yet.

[Recherché]

Even if she hadn't been watching the activiy in the square, Izzy would still have heard it.


I WOULD HAVE GIVEN THIS PIECE OF GARBAGE TO YOU IF YOU CAME HERE TO MAKE PEACE, LUCAS![/B][/COLOR]

That alone would have gotten her attention. However its the site of a gun being drawn that makes her mind go blank and her hands drop the drink on the grass of the riverbank. At first there is sheer terror of what is about to happen. And then Izzy's mind slowly picks itself up into a blankness that is instead serenity that encompasses fear and goes beyond it.

And then she's quietly moving towards the pair.

Who are you? What are you doing? Why are you here? What do I do? What can I do?

She stops only a handsbreath from the side of the old man with the gun without looking at either man.

If you fight this battle, then what? What will you achieve and what will you lose?

Izzy will try to shift between them try to block the attack if either of them makes any aggressive moves

[Askel]

Zelgiel frowned.

"Well, sure... but the only person who should be making me do my job is the Sheriff, not some noble who's got problems with everyone in town," Zelgiel explained, taking another sip of his mead.

Mmm... The good stuff.


Do you know what the innkeeper, Ameiko I think her name was, what her deal with them is? That looked like it was some really bad blood.

Zelgiel was quiet for a moment, considering. Out in the square, it seemed like the Scarnetti party was dispersing to some extent.

I never really thought about that before... Hm...

"Y'know, it did seem like that, didn't it? I don't know. Maybe her father has something to do with it? He's another of our 'Sandpoint nobles'. Maybe there's a family rivalry or something?"

Before Zelgiel could continue the conversation, or even sit down to take advantage of his plate of food, things in the square started to escalate. Old Man Boonie was holding something in his hands, and his posture was unmistakable. The kid he was talking to -

Zelgiel cursed in elven as he suddenly recognized the boy.

How did I not notice him in the first place?

By the look of things, Boonie and his boy were about to brawl in the middle of the Swallowtail Festival. Before he could even think about reacting, Izabetta was marching purposefully towards them.

"What are you doing? Zelgiel called after her, then cursed again, setting the plate of food down gently, then chugging down the rest of his mead. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, stretched, then followed after the Varisian woman.

By the time he got there, he knew he was already late to the party. Izabetta was standing between the two men. Zelgiel stayed off to the side, but ready to interject. He didn't want to get involved, though, if there wasn't going to be a problem.

A lot less paperwork that way...

[King Tius]

Aurelius bows respectfully to Father Zantus. "You are most kind, Father. I can see why the town is so pleased to have you in this cathedral, though it hardly seems big enough to contain your generosity." Growing up wealthy meant learning how to lavish on the compliments and Aurelius was no stranger to proper parlance. He nods politely at Leonus and gives him a small smile, feeling a tiny pang of guilt for the young acolyte who had just been given a new roommate. Hardly my own wing of the manor, but it will due until I've established myself.

Once Father Zantus and Leonus depart, Aurelius scans the area, his hand on the pommel of his sword and his chest swelling with new-found confidence. Maybe I'll make it out here after all? As he exits the cathedral and starts to wander the festival again, he catches sight of a small altercation brewing between two men, one of whom is clearly brandishing a musket...

Here's my chance...

Striding towards the commotion, Aurelius steps to within arm's reach of the two men, trying to ascertain what was going on between them. He let's his arms and armor announce his presence and authority for him, something his mentors taught him back in Magnimar. He makes no move to interrupt them, but waits to see if his arrival changes the situation.

[LordHavelock]

Lucas's passivity melts away with Clive's growing ire, his own temper rising to match. "I didn't lie about anything!" He shouts back, "Who you were and what happened doesn't matter anymore, and when what I deserve is mine, it'll be settled. That's what I meant in my letter, and that's why I'm here now. It's only garbage as long as it's in the hands of a slovenly old drunk like you!" Lucas's hand unconsciously grips the hilt of the family sword.

The growing animosity between father and sun, and the display of the weapon suddenly brings the crowd around them to a grinding halt, forming a small circle but still giving both men plenty of space. There are murmurs and plenty of speculation from all parties, and more than a few people suggesting someone should break them up (Clive's probably just had too much too drink, again). The approach of Izzy and her plaintive words renders both men silent for the moment, but they make no move to answer her or back down. With Sheriff Hemlock having departed moments ago with several of the town watch, Zelgiel is far and away the closest figure of authority on the scene, that is, until Aurelius steps forward, immediately drawing Lucas's gaze and a portion of his ire.

The ashen blonde young man seems to be marshaling some choice words for the interloping paladin of Abadar, but then all at once, there is a resounding peel of thunder that echoes about the square, suddenly drawing all attention towards the stage by the entrance, where Father Abstalar stands ready to give the final benediction and ceremony for the consecration of the new temple.

[Askel]

Zelgiel sighed with relief when the armored man showed up. He wasn't completely sure who it was (clearly not a member of Sandpoint's watch) but he was a calming figure to the two hot-headed humans.

"Everything alright, here, then?" Zelgiel asked, looking from Izabetta to the paladin but avoiding the gazes of the other two men.

The lad looked like he was about to say something when the priest made his presence on the platform known. Zelgiel jumped nearly half a foot in the air at the sudden booming sound, cursing in Shoanti and Elven in even mix at his own foolish fright.

Damn priest... Good thing I wasn't napping or I'd need a new set of trousers... Zelgiel mused irritably.

He took a quick look around the square, making sure there was no trouble elsewhere (that would then get him into trouble for not dealing with it), then looked back at the three men and Izabetta, making sure that everything was really okay, particularly for the priest's big moment.


[roll0]
[roll1]

[King Tius]

Aurelius catches sight of Zelgiel and gives him a respectful nod and then a shrug in response to his question. Phew, it's a guardsman. He should be on my side, unless he's somehow involved in this...probably not, judging by his tone. Aurelius has his mouth half open to respond when the thunderstone goes off. He flinches instinctively and reverses his grip on his sword to draw it before catching himself, though he does look around in alarm until he realizes the source. Gods Above, way to look like a frightened calf in front of all these people! He quickly straightens his back and eases his defensive stance, returning his gaze to keep an eye on the two quarreling men but turning his body towards Father Zantus along with the rest of the crowd.



Perception: [roll0]
Initiative: [roll1]

[Melquiades]

"Well, then, when you can say more than two words to your father without mentioning the stupid rifle, we'll see about it. I'm not being stubborn just for the sake of it, son. We haven't seen each other in ten years. . ."

Clive's face is actually showing a lot of relief right now, even though he tries to hide it, especially from Lucas. For a moment there, he was ready to shoot to wound his son, but these strangers -- and Zelgiel, let's not forget him -- arrived just in time. He puts his left hand, shaking, inside his pocket. He couldn't be weak, no, no. He couldn't allow himself that, not now.

Goooooods, I need a drink so much... Just one will do, I swear...

His mind is so far away that he barely notices the thunder cutting through the air, but it's enough to bring him back to reality. In a matter of miliseconds, old instincts come back, and his eyeballs are zigzagging inside their orbits, looking for a sign of danger.

Initiative: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[Feather Sigil]

Under normal circumstances, Sera would be deeply ashamed of herself. Talking to someone without looking at them, probing impolitely, not properly introducing herself; she would never be caught dead displaying such uncouth behaviour. Of course, under normal circumstances she might not have been here to begin with, and it was for nothing anyway as she clearly wasn't doing a good job at being normal, happy and unassuming. She was probably simply a terrible liar.

"Well..."

But what should she do now? Get up and run? Not until it was safe. Make up some story? She didn't want to lie if she didn't have to...but her problems didn't necessarily have to be revealed in detail, or the details could be altered. Perhaps she could get by with partial truths. But even that might be too dangerous. After all, what if this woman was one of her pursuers or would be interested in her bounty? What if she was only here to stop her from leaving the bench while those armed men closed in?

Sera looked at her trembling hands...and feigned another smile. Perhaps she could use them to her advantage. "...I'm merely a little overwhelmed. Some of the people here are terrific dancers. Why, there was a group of them who spun and twirled all around, constantly changing partners. I've never seen a dance like that before..."

As Sera rambled on, Luna left her shoulder and hovered overhead, still watching the Sheriff.

"...and before I knew it I'd accidentally got caught in the middle of it! Such a, a frenzy of colour and laughter; in fact, it was a little bit frightening but they danced with expert timing. Amazingly enough, I didn't become dizzy, but when it was over I was still tingling from the dance. That, and the crowd, was too much for me--that's why I'm not one for enormous parties--so I decided to relax here."

Once the Sheriff finally led off the Scarnetti and his men, Luna returned to Sera--her right shoulder this time, keeping herself hidden from the hooded stranger--and whispered "They're leaving. We may go now."

"So I'm not 'okay' in an absolute sense, miss, but in a minute or two I will be, I assure you." Once I'm in my apartment. "If I may say, I believe you may find your crusade quite rewarding here. Perhaps not in defending against assailants as much as helping brighten someone's day. There's a real sense of community and goodwill here, this festival is proof of that. I don't see why anyone who shares your wish to help people wouldn't want to be your friend." And under normal circumstances Sera would have been the first, for she also saw merit in helping others, but the only thing she could do as a friend now was put those she cared about at risk. It was bad enough that her best friends would undoubtedly be investigated, for information on her if nothing else. Val...

Sera rose briskly and curtseyed to the stranger with a smile. "I think I shall return home and rest. It was a pleasure to meet you, miss. Good day." Without delay she headed north up the road. Fortunately, the White Deer was right there; she could see its roof over the houses.

Angry voices roaring over the festival stopped her. As before, the noise of the festival held a different tone now, one of cautious murmurs and speculation rather than joy, and above it all two men yelled at each other. Sera's feet moved towards the commotion before and after she told herself it was a bad idea.

"What are you doing?"

"Someone might be in trouble."

"If so, let the guards handle it."

"I want to see what's happening, at least."

She didn't get very far before a tremendous boom exploded nearby. She instinctively crouched, placed her hands over her ears and yelped with fright. As the echoes cleared and she slowly rose, everyone around her looked to the cathedral. A priest she hadn't seen before stood before the crowd, clearly about to do something important, but what about that heated argument? Whoever they were, they weren't yelling at each other, but Sera couldn't help but weave her way through the crowd, looking for where she thought their voices originally came from.



Perception checks...for something.
Sera: [roll0]
Luna: [roll1]

Initiative: [roll2]

[Koryander]

Cyarra could only nod dumbly in response to Sera...

"Well, yeah but... I mean... something doesn't..."

Something still didn't seem right, but the poor girl was going a mile a minute, and Cyarra felt rude to attempt to poke more holes into the story than there already where.

"So I'm not 'okay' in an absolute sense, miss, but in a minute or two I will be, I assure you. If I may say, I believe you may find your crusade quite rewarding here. Perhaps not in defending against assailants as much as helping brighten someone's day. There's a real sense of community and goodwill here, this festival is proof of that. I don't see why anyone who shares your wish to help people wouldn't want to be your friend."

Cyarra was about to open her mouth in protest, but then sighed in resignation.

"Yeah, absolutely. Lots of friends, all over the place."

Cyarra worked very, very, VERY hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"I think I shall return home and rest. It was a pleasure to meet you, miss. Good day."

Cyarra remained wordless as the girl got up and walked away.

Something is very, very wrong. Sorry girl, but you're getting followed for now. Good job Cy, getting stuck on being worried for someone's safety. Like always.

Cyarra waited till she was far enough away, then got up. She made sure to secure her hood and slowly pursued the woman. Off she went it seemed, headed towards an inn to- wait, whoop. Nope, not really.

Why the devil is she turning around towards that crowd?

It wasn't until she looked towards them did she hear the screaming and the argument. And her new 'friend' headed right towards them.

"Hmm."

Things looked like they were about to get violent... that celestial blood started pumping. Beating.

"Damn it..."

She kept pursuing Sera, who in turn was headed towards the argument.

Two birds with one stone may-

KRASH!!!

The sound of thunder struck, and she gasped for a moment in confusion. She eyed the priest, and in response she started to quicken her pace to the crowd. That bad feeling refused to go away, and she needed to figure out why.

Roll time!!
Perception: [roll0]
Initiative: [roll1]

[LordHavelock]

Even as Father Zantus opens his mouth to begin, he is suddenly taken aback, looking out into the surrounding crowd with disbelief and no small amount of trepidation. Sudden concern amongst the crowd quickly turns to alarm and panic as shouts of alarm and cries of terror ripple through the gathered masses, along with echoed cries and the sound of breaking and smashing from down below the bluffs. With an inhuman shriek, some thing streaks at just below waist height through the center of the crowd, and a pathetic yelp is heard by all as some poor citizen’s dog is slashed across the flank and belly, falling into a convulsing heap before lying still, dead amidst horrified onlookers. A triumphant, screech is heard immediately following from beneath the wagon, as the hound’s assailant licks the blood from a rusty, crooked blade, peering out with beady black eyes for more prey. The screech is answered as more of the little freaks suddenly make their presence known upon the stage and picnic tables of the festival, gibbering and making a tumultuous mess of everything within arms reach as they hack haphazardly with an assortment of crudely bladed weapons. As if their stunted, repugnant appearance and manic antics weren’t enough to give away the identity of the culprits, the raucous cacophony of cackling and war-shrieks rises to a crescendo before merging into a tuneless discordant chant:

”Goblins chew and goblins bite!
Goblins cut and goblins fight!
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!”

http://i.imgur.com/BvgqVkx.jpg


The Goblins have already used their actions this round to move into position (and kill the dog). Goblins 2-6 are standing atop the stage and picnic benches, granting them a height advantage.

All spaces are at this moment considered Crowded, and will remain so until the crowds have time to disperse. Father Zantus and Mayor Deverin are in the process of directing said crowds into the Cathedral, but while they act on the Surprise Round, the Crowds will act at Initiative 0 in the first regular round.

Urban streets are often full of people going about their daily lives. In most cases, it isn't necessary to put every 1st-level commoner on the map when a fight breaks out on the city's main thoroughfare. Instead, just indicate which squares on the map contain crowds. If crowds see something obviously dangerous, they'll move away at 30 feet per round at initiative count 0. It takes 2 squares of movement to enter a square with crowds. The crowds provide cover for anyone who does so, enabling a Stealth check and providing a bonus to Armor Class and on Reflex saves.

Directing Crowds: It takes a DC 15 Diplomacy check or DC 20 Intimidate check to convince a crowd to move in a particular direction, and the crowd must be able to hear or see the character making the attempt. It takes a full-round action to make the Diplomacy check, but only a free action to make the Intimidate check.

If two or more characters are trying to direct a crowd in different directions, they make opposed Diplomacy or Intimidate checks to determine to whom the crowd listens. The crowd ignores everyone if none of the characters' check results beat the DCs given above.



http://i.imgur.com/JZ0bcAN.png

[Koryander]

As Cyarra pushed through the crowd to follow Sera, a horrifying streak of green color weaved between where the two was standing. It was enough to make the poor Aasimar gasp and recoil for a moment. She looked up to peer into Sera's eyes, shocked. At first, it was shock at the blur she just saw... And then realizing that Sera knew she was tailing her.

"... I swear this isn't what it looks like."

Before Cyarra's cynicism could go any further, the horrifying visage of a dog, mangled and destroyed, cascaded forward in between the two women. Her bright orange eyes went wide as it fell, lying dead between them. Prying her eyes way from the terrible sight, she looked left, then right.

"Oh."

Though the crowd to the left, to the right, that familiar shade of green was all around them between the cracks of the crowd. She looked back to Sera, the resolve back in her eyes.

"Try and stay close! I'm going to fight these things, but I don't want to lose you in the crowd! Unless you'd rather that. If that's the case then I'll just have to have an Aasimar panic attack or somethi-"


She silently cursed her sarcasm, maybe she didn't hear that... Regardless, Cyarra motioned to the goblin on the structure to the south of them. "I'm headed that way!"

As Cyarra turned to run towards the Goblin, she glances a curious look backwards, Sera was gone, and the faint outline of shadow could be seen until that too, drifts away. She could only blink for a moment, then smirk wide.

Interesting. Alright then, looks like I'll have to handle this sucker.

She turns once again, and pushes through the crowd towards the goblin.


Cyarra is moving to Y16 to get close to the goblin, to lay some goblin smackdown next round.

[Melquiades]

I'm posting before Psydon because I think it won't be an issue in this case, just to speed things up a bit

Everything takes place in a matter of seconds.

It takes him a while to understand what is going on, but when Clive finally gets it, he's one of the first to be moving. Goblins, here? What the hell? He can feel the blood pumping through his veins, and for the first time in a long while the pains on his body suddenly disappear while he is sober. This. I was made for this. I need to protect my city.

Don't just stay there, Zelgiel! Come with me! Hemlock isn't here!, Clive shouts, already way ahead. Who they think they are? Attacking us here, today, in our Festival? That's whats going through his mind when he finally gets at a decent distance to shoot the closest goblin. Then he notices.

His hands are still shaking.

Frack Lucas. Frack the booze. Focus, focus, FOCUS!

He takes a deep breath and tries to remember his first lessons. Things that go back more than 30 years. Find a way for the bullet. Don't hit anyone but the green demon. The musket still feels too heavy in his hands. Clive knows he will miss like this.

Don't aim with your hands. Aim with your eye. Do not shoot with your hand. Shoot with the mind.

His hands are steady.

Boonie pulls the trigger.

I'm moving from T17 to T20, and shooting the G5 goblin.

Attack roll (against touch AC): [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

[Feather Sigil]

Whatever had transpired in the minute before, it was gone, replaced by the monstrous din of shrieking civilians and goblins everywhere, the shrill echoes crashing violently in her ears while the crowds tossed and bumped her about in their frantic attempts to run; and no matter how many people were in her way, she could always see the wide, frozen stare of the dog, its blood and entrails oozing out of its belly, pooling split in two against the rocks, splatters of blood and chunks of meat bursting out, and still those eyes looked at her, even after popping out of their sockets...

...but then a pair of clawed hands seized her shoulders and pulled her away from the grisly sight. The bridge and the countryside were swallowed by a vast inky cloud. The hands that held her, along with four massive wings, sprouted from within the cloud, and two eyes wreathed in purple flames stared without blinking. One of its hands reared back and someone slapped her face. One voice rang in her ears, louder than any scream.

"Defend yourself!"

She couldn't see the dog anymore. For just a moment, there was only the shock of the slap, her stinging cheek, the noise around her, and another familiar voice. Next to her, the hooded one explained her intentions. Her terrified heart still struck a war-beat to retreat, but this one moment gave a little clarity of thought, and it was enough. Sera nodded to Luna and the hooded...aasimar? "Very well." First, hide. She knelt, keeping out of the goblins' sight. Second, I need a shield. Though she had only wielded magic for a week, she knew the theories and practices behind spellcasting inside and out. Years of training in vain suddenly paid off after forging her pact with Luna. The power came with practiced ease, swirling streams and motes of black energy surrounding her hands.

Focus first on the two of us. The power we share: within us, around us, ever flowing from me to you and from you to me. Soon, you will feel it extending from you within your shadow, clutching at the world, bending around any bothersome lights.

The numerous patchwork blankets of shadows around her started to slightly bend away from their owners and towards her.

Your shadow, as with anyone's shadow, is always a part of you. It can merely be hidden, and only by an even greater darkness. If you can reach into it, you can--

"Seize it! Shape it!"

...And there it was, amongst so many. Sera could feel it, moving as she did, connected but still separate, almost like a tail; all that remained was to use it. At her will, Sera's shadow rose from the ground, expanding around her until it formed a sphere of black mist.

"Well done!"

Now, what to do next...


Sera 5' steps to W16 and casts Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) on herself. Both she and Luna make Knowledge Local checks on the goblins (they should be able to clearly see at least G2 and G6) and Stealth checks to hide in the crowd.

Sera - Knowledge Local: [roll0] (untrained)
Luna - Knowledge Local: [roll1] (untrained)

Sera - Stealth: [roll2]
Luna - Stealth: [roll3]


Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 20, Touch 16, Flat-footed 18, CMD 15, Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions
-Cover (+4AC, +2REF)

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 19, Touch 18, Flat-footed 17, CMD 10, Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 1
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
-Cover (+4AC, +2REF)
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 600/600 rounds

[LordHavelock]

Panic continues to mount in the festival square, and below in the downtown as well, sounds of struggle and strife can be heard. What has driven the goblins to attack now, on this day, when never before have they ever been so bold to move against Sandpoint, it is impossible to say, but the crowd of festive citizens has turned to a horrendous feat-stricken mob in no time at all. Father Zantus manages to bellow over the din and screams, ushering citizens into the Cathedral as Mayor Deverin does the same. A smattering of town watchmen do their best to assist, but were hardly expecting an attack, and with Sheriff Hemlock having taken a share of them back to the garrison, they're clearly without a plan or the wherewithal to act against the mad little freaks now harassing folks right and left.

Sera and the crow upon her shoulder can be seen briefly swirling in an unnatural penumbra but it quickly lost sight of in the crowd, whilst Cyarra, momentarily distracted from the highborn girl's intrigue moves directly towards the nearest goblin raider, tower shield raised high. The resounding 'crack' of Clive's musket causes the crowd around him duck instinctively, even as they continue to move, but leaves the goblin to his left howling with pain as the musket-ball punches through the side of miserable wretch's torso.


G1 climbs up onto the top of the wagon and does a fiendish little victory dance (however premature).
G2 & G3 have torches and appear to be trying to set fire to the stage, even as they're standing on it.
G4 leaps madly across the gap between picnic tables and falls flat on it's face into a plate of roast venison
G5 takes 4 damage and moves to flank Clive, but misses with his attack.
G6 misses Cyarra, even fighting from height advantage on top of the picnic table.

The highlighter area of the map is no longer 'Crowded'



http://i.imgur.com/pRl54Da.png

[King Tius]

The sudden commotion and appearance of the goblins sends the adrenaline rushing through Aurelius. He sees the closest goblin move to attack Clive and kicks into action without even thinking. His sword has claimed two lives already, but not in hectic combat like this. Drawing his blade, he moves into position near the gunslinger, hoping to keep the goblins off him so he can continue to fire.

Keep firing! I'll get them off you!

Aurelius grips his training sword in both hands but opts not to put his full force into the swing guessing that these goblins tend to be tricky and hard to hit.


Move Action: Move to V20 (draw sword as part of move action)
Standard Action: Attack Goblin G5
Attack: [roll0] (+2 from flanking)
Damage: [roll1]

[Koryander]

Cyarra blocks the goblins attack, utterly un-phased by the swing. As the shield sparks against the goblins weapon, she strikes back.

"Next time, try to leave a DENT."

As she swings her weapon, the sound of an exploding KACHOOM!! rings through her ears, causing her to jerk in the direction of Clive and Aurelius.

"What the hell was that?!"

That man over there... he was using a GUN. An actual, real life GUN

I'm meeting all types today huh...?

Reaction and reflexes kick in as she makes a b-line for the pair, ignoring the Goblin she just attempted to strike... regardless if it was alive, wounded or dead.

"Hang on! I'm coming to help!"


Alright, first! I promised I'd roll dice right into this things face so...:
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

Second, Cyarra will be recklessly heading over to Clive, taking any and all AoO's to the face with no regard to her own safety because that's how Cyarra rolls. If Cyarra can make it over to him, she will provide him with saving shield, granting 2+ AC. If difficult terrain impedes her, or if she somehow gets knocked out before than, she will either stop as close as she possibly can or... well, be on the floor bleeding XD

[Recherché]

I should run. I'm without weapons and not wearing armor. Even if I did have that sort of stuff I'm not a warrior. Running would be the sensible thing.

Izzy freezes for a few seconds terrified and ready to retreat. And then the old gunslinger puts a bullet through a goblin. There's two warriors rushing into the fray with swords and shields. How can she run when there are others willing to risk their lives. Maybe just maybe she can stop this without further violence. Izzy doesn't think that's likely but she has to try.

She spends a second rehearsing the words in her head; it's been so long since she's spoken this tongue

<STOP. Leave here now and you will not be hurt further!>

Izzy yells in Goblin hoping that she's got the phrasing right. However she's not optimistic about her chances and she's a practical woman so The priestess does not end there.

I was meaning this for the opening of the temple but now seems like a good time. Lady protect us!

Izzy grabs her necklace in her hands and starts to pray.

In the Light of the Lady
In the Night of the Goddess
Walk softly and be aware, for you are Blessed
Sing deeply and Be Blessed, for you are chosen
Let the Light in with you
Let the Dream capture you
Step to Her song
Sing Her song
for you are chosen
You are at the Right hand of the Goddess



The next question is, how'd the goblins get here in the first place? They couldn't have sneaked through the entire town easily. And why are they being so aggressive, goblins are normally too cowardly to attack crowds in broad daylight.

Casting Bless. Izzy considers everyone within range who's not a goblin to be an ally so they all get that +1

Move action to make a perception and try to figure out what's going on and where the goblins came from

[roll0]

[Askel]

"Goblins?!" Zelgiel cried in dismay.

His face quickly switched from surprise to disgust, however, as he saw the behavior of the rabid little critters. More vermin than monster, he'd heard once. A friend many years ago had told him that they were a stinking, addle-brained blight on Varisia; Zelgiel couldn't agree more, now that he saw them up close.

Old man Boonie was in trouble, he saw, but the armored knight charged to his aid.

"Izabetta, get behind me!" Zelgiel called to the praying priestess, drawing his bow from over his shoulder and stringing it in one fluid action before grabbing and nocking an arrow from the small quiver on his back.

He aimed right down the shaft of his arrow, centering on each goblin target in the square. The two near Clive were too agile, and the risk of hitting the old man was too great. Suddenly, there was another woman. Zelgiel only got a brief glimpse of her face, and of shield and steel. There, right behind her on a picnic table, was a goblin.

With the speed of a cougar, the half-elf shifted his aim. Like a breath of air, he released the arrow; the archer's sigh flying higher than intended.

Drawing longbow and arrow
Shooting at G6 once Cyarra is clear
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Feather Sigil]

"Multiple tribes have united for this attack. I recognized their war dress."

"How many?"

"Six in this area; all might be here. I am unsu--"

Another tremendous bang tore through the air, scattering the people in their midst. As they cleared, Sera saw four others in the square with her and the aasimar, one of whom was holding a smoking tube with a trigger... Is that an actual firearm?! She'd never seen one before, though rumours abounded in Magnimar about such emergent technology: the next evolution of the bow, stronger and faster by far due to the advent of gunpowder. But there was no time to ponder it and the rest of them knew that, springing to the rifleman's aid while two goblins surrounded him. There were still three behind them all, though they didn't seem to be doing anything threatening. Goblins weren't exactly known for their intellect...and since they weren't, a more primitive display might drive them off or at least weaken their resolve, and she had just the spell for such a display. The young man with the large sword would make a fitting target.

Sera held out her arm towards him and focused on him, chanting the incantation and projecting it, as Luna taught her, to the darkness in his own mind: the place where that held the canvas of the soul, upon which dreams were painted. "Strength surges through your veins, quaking the earth with your every step. No one can challenge you. Nothing can stop you."

As she spoke the words, a different voice echoed them in his own thoughts, and with it came feelings of indomitability and overwhelming might. Strength surges through your veins... In a vision, the goblins leapt at him and were swatted aside like pesky flies, hardly a match for him. quaking the earth with your every step... He strode through the streets of Sandpoint as tall as the buildings, a horde of frightened goblins fleeing before him, their stragglers crushed into red paste underfoot as the villagers cheered from their windows. No one can challenge you. Armies of goblins, so tiny they were like ants at his feet, charged at him upon distant plains. He slammed his mighty blade into the earth, and a great wave of air and earth shot forth to bury them all. Nothing can stop you. He stood at the edge of Sandpoint, a mountain of a man, vigilantly watching the countryside for danger. And there was more to those words than mere boasting, for he and his blade doubled in size, becoming the giant that could make these dreams realities.

"Impressive. You would be wise to hide behind him, we're exposed."

Sera agreed completely, and began making her way to him.


Sera casts Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) on Aurelius and then 5' steps to V17*. She and Luna make Knowledge Nature checks on the goblins.

*Lord, you never moved Sera in the most recent map update. She's supposed to be at W16 before taking her actions in this post.

Sera - Knowledge Nature: [roll0]
Luna - Knowledge Nature: [roll1]


Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 20, Touch 16, Flat-footed 18, CMD 15, Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions
-Cover (+4AC, +2REF)

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 19, Touch 18, Flat-footed 17, CMD 10, Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 1
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
-Cover (+4AC, +2REF)
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 10/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 599/600 rounds

[LordHavelock]

As the crowd clears out around the group of heroic individual rushing to Sandpoint's aid in this moment of doubt, more and many eyes set themselves upon Izabetta as she calls out to the goblins in their own twisted tongue, causing a moment of pause and reflection as her commanding (if stilted) words are enough to distract the goblins on the ground before her, as well as those upon the stage and wagon directly northward. Unfortunately, mere words are not enough to settle matters at hand, as the goblin on the wagon proceeds to turn round in full and moon the ardent priestess while making an obscene noise with his tongue and mouth, causing the two goblins on the stage to fall over uproariously, nearly setting themselves on fire in the process.

Those goblins on the picnic tables and ground directly before Cyarra and currently engaged in melee with old man Boonie are not nearly so amused as the fervent knight of Abadar strides forward, glittering steel in hand, causing the goblin he approaches to lash out with his dogslicer, hacking desperately at the paladin's knees . . . only to be cleft in twain where he stands, struck paralyzed between Izzy's words and Aurelius's imposing mien. As Cyarra also moves into the swirling melee, the goblin she had been engaging manages only to add a little more noise to the swirling cacophony as his weapon bounces harmlessly off of the Aasimar's armor, and is just as quick to dive to the ground once Zelgiel's arrow embeds itself in the table where Cyarra once stood. Clive meanwhile, finds himself beset by the goblin on the table, but Cyarra's swift action causes that goblin's blade to resound harmlessly from her tower shield. The goblin stares dumbfounded first at Cyarra, then at Sera as the crowd parts to revealed her girded in shadow and chanting, only to go wide-eyed in fear at the sight of Aurelius as he grows to a height of ten goblins stacked on one another.

The sight of Sera's arcane trickery however has more than just the intended effect of benefiting Aurelius however, as both the goblin on the picnic table and on the wagon seize upon her hated magic as an invitation to attack and immediately rush forward from their respective vantage points to assault her. Meanwhile, the goblins on the stage, have managed to build up a small blaze and appear to be preparing to cast their torches and bits of timber onto the Cathedral!

Attack of Opportunity vs Aurelius deals 3 damage.
Aurelius kills Goblin G5.
Attack of Opportunity vs Cyarra misses.
Zelgiel Misses.

Goblin 4 misses Clive thanks to Cyarra.
Goblins 1, 6 fail to hit Sera thanks to her Shadow Armour


http://i.imgur.com/cEPWuNA.png

[Recherché]

"Izabetta, get behind me!" Zelgiel called to the praying priestess, drawing his bow from over his shoulder and stringing it in one fluid action before grabbing and nocking an arrow from the small quiver on his back.

I think at this point you've earned the right to just call me Izzy!

The small woman ducks behind Zegiel as requested. She's not wearing armor and just because she's decided to participate in this confrontation does not make her a fool.

I think the goblins came from around the graveyard. There might be more of them back there. We have to save the cathedral.

Izzy takes a deep breath and feels for the skeins of fate that surround Zelgiel. She doesn't know whether her disruptions will be good or bad, or what she's changing exactly but usually this is for the best. She pulls on the threads slightly.

Still this isn't right. If the goblins had just wanted to burn down the cathedral they could have done that without causing all this commotion and getting hurt. Besides didn't that woman mention multiple tribes working together? The only way that would happen would be if some external force was uniting them. Could the goblins be . . . a distraction?

Izzy takes another look around the square this time looking for anyone behaving oddly.

5ft stepping to R15
Using Bit of Luck on Zelgiel (Lets him reroll any and all d20 roll made during his next turn though he has to keep the second roll if he does)
Another Perc check: [roll0]

[King Tius]

The rush of combat keeps Aurelius fighting through the pain of the goblin's attack as he quickly drops the little bugger. Turning once again to take stock of the situation, he sees Sera being surrounded and moves to intervene, cursing his earlier carelessness as he moves.

Gods Below, that hurts! How could I have been so stupid? What wound Father say...

He's so focused on attacking the goblins and fighting through the pain of his first real wound, he barely notices the effects of the spell as he surges in size to tower over the goblins even more!


Move Action: Move to V18
Standard Action: Attack Goblin G6 at W17
Attack: [roll0] Critical Hit!
Damage: [roll1] +1 because I forgot he was Large now, 23 damage total from Crit.
Crit Confirmation in OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?345581-Burnt-Offerings-OOC-Lordhavelock-s-Rise-of-the-Runelords&p=17435625&viewfull=1#post17435625)


Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +2, HP 10/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 16, Touch 10, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +6(+5) (2d6+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 20, Dex 11, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition Enlarge Person, Bless

[Koryander]

Cyarra steps to the side of Clive and swipes the blow away with her shield, glaring at the goblin before glancing around again.

"Goddess be damned, they're coming from behind as well."

She gestures to Sera and Aurelius, nodding.

"We should roam as a pack! Fall back with me and keep firing."

Cyarra's eyes glanced around the battlefield, she was counting... one, two, three, four, five... and herself is six.

"Alright, I'm headed to the paladin and the girl, keep safe!"

Cyarra will back up to U17 and strike goblin G1!
Attack:[roll0] add +1 for blessing
Damage:[roll1]

She will provide Saving Shield to Sera if she comes to blows. If not Aurelius will get Saving Shield if HE comes to blows.


AC 21, touch 12, flat-footed 19 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5

[Melquiades]

"Thank you, boy!" Clive shouts to the fully armored man -- or at least he thinks -- with a tower shield who just protected him.

Keep shooting. Not enough time to get out of his way. Think about the kids. Think about the cathedral.

Clive then proceeds to reload his musket at what seems lightning speed for those looking at him. He knows that's not true, though. Too slow, old man. Too slow. Back in the day you could do this with your eyes closed and with thrice the speed. Look at the calluses in your fingertips.

He knows the goblin is going to attack him. It doesn't matter. He doesn't need to aim much, he's right in his face. The forehead. Hit the forehead.

BANG!

Move Action: Reload the musket (Rapid Reload)
Standard Action: Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Edit: forgot to mention, but I'm attacking the G4 goblin.
Edit2: I also forgot, but I have Point-Blank Shot. Add +1 to damage and attack roll.

[Askel]

Zelgiel cursed softly in Shoanti, unknowingly slipping back into his mother's tongue. In a heartbeat, he had another arrow nocked and ready. There were several civilians in the square who were still fighting the goblins, while the knight and Clive seemed to have turned the tides for themselves. Nearby, though, there was another woman -

A mage?! he realized as he saw the darkness flowing around her. It was unmistakable; there she stood, surrounded by goblins.

As Zelgiel aimed at the goblins attacking her, he held his breath. Loose the arrow too soon and he'd risk hitting her...

Easy... Patience...

Twang!

Firing arrow at G1; -4 penalty for shooting into melee combat has been included in my die roll, along with the +1 from Bless
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Feather Sigil]

Sera didn't get far before tripping on the hem of her robe and tumbling to the ground. Two of the little demons reached her in what seemed only an instant later, pouncing with their crude blades raised, only to bounce off of her shadow as the mist briefly solidified into a jet black shell. It quickly dispersed and Sera wasted no time scrambling to her feet, but a massive sword crashed down not even an arm's length away. Before her eyes one of the goblins split apart, organs and blood pushing themselves out like grotesque slugs. The only thing that stopped her trembling was the remaining goblin snarling and raising his weapon to her again. She was gone before he could swing, running past all of them, between two tables--the corner of one stained by a goblin's corpse--and off to the side, where she sat down and leaned against a table. There were no other goblins, or anyone else around save for the rifleman. Her head in her palm, Sera breathed deeply and tried to banish the sight of the bisected goblin from her thoughts. There weren't that many happy things she could think of, and every person she tried to think of suffered the same fate as the goblin.

Something dripped onto her lip. Withdrawing her hand, she saw the blood all over her glove. It was only then Sera felt the drops flowing down her cheek and dripping off her ear. Reaching slowly with a shaking hand, she wiped some off--more blood. Nothing had hurt her, there was no reason she would be bleeding, so it had to be...

Then she was doubled over behind the table, clutching her gut, heaving and retching nothing in between haphazard breaths. When it was over... "...Could you please try not to kill them if that's possible?!" She didn't mean to be that loud but it tore itself from her nonetheless, one last spasm.



Sera and Luna withdraw to P21. Because of their withdrawl, the enemy can't AoO them.



Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Union Points 1
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 9/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 598/600 rounds

[LordHavelock]

Though Izzy can tell nothing more about the goblins direction or plan of attack, she is all the more glaringly aware of the sounds of battle coming from the West, on the road past Sandpoint Garrison towards the Downtown, where the Festival's Bonfire was to be held. Clearly the goblins managed to infiltrate from several points past the town's walls and defenses, in a coordinated attack well beyond usual goblin strategy.

Izzy also sees Lucas, who had begun to depart even as Father Zantus used his thunderstone to draw all attention. He moves with a steady, effortless grace through the crowd on the far side of the cathedral square, past the picnic area, picking off a goblin who has clambered up onto one of the booths almost casually, causing the green menace to topple over with an arrow protruding from it's skull, dead even before it hits the ground. When another goblin sees this and rushes at the sandy-blonde youth, Lucas appears totally un-phased, and in one seamless movement, re-slings his bow and draws the longsword at his side, swinging it with both hands to knock aside the goblin's clumsy attack, the blade scything back towards it on his backswing to cleave through the wretch's upper torso.

All goblin eyes in the immediate vicinity though are on Aurelius, as thanks to his own physical prowess and Sera's spell, his blow obliterate's the goblin he had been advancing on in something of a disturbing and unintended display of gore, which is none the less impressive. The goblin next to him is still staring at the mess of remains of his cohort until Zelgiel's loosed arrow flies withing a haresbreadth of the top of his head, causing him to duck flat just in time to also avoid Cyarra's sword, quite by accident. The impish gobbo is back up in a flash though, swinging his dogslicer manically at Cyarra's armored figure, but having no more luck than could be expected.

The goblins on the stage have managed to build up something of a small blaze from the remains of the podium and are hopping about madly lighting more torches in what can only be a preparation set fire to the new Cathedral. Father Zantus gestures pleadingly at the assembled defenders through a gap in the crowd. "Please! Stop Them! Those sheltered inside the cathedral will not survive a blaze!"

Aurelius Kills Goblin 6
Attack of Opportunity on Clive: [roll0]; Damage [roll1]
Clive kills Goblin G4

Goblin 1 misses Cyarra
Goblin 2 & 3 arm themselves with blazing torches even as the stage beneath them begins to catch fire.

http://i.imgur.com/j2R7xyH.png

[Melquiades]

"Ouch! You son of a dog-mating-whore!", Clive shouts after he is painfully hit by the goblin's dogslicer, a second before he pulled the trigger and the goblin's head exploded. I can tell you I certainly didn't miss this part of battle. ****.

After taking out the goblin next to him, he finally has a second to assess the situation. First thing he notices is the paladin who just helped him turned into a giant hulk. Wow. I'm glad that he's on my side. And who the hell is using magic here? All kinds of people in this year's festival I guess... The other man who defended him from an attack was by the paladin's side. Well, I'm sure they can handle that goblin... And Zelgiel was protecting someone...


"Please! Stop Them! Those sheltered inside the cathedral will not survive a blaze!"


Oh, Shiet. And here I was thinking they would learn from the first time and protect the holy-fracking-cathedral from fire. But no. And I'm the drunk in this town. C'mon, move those old legs.

"I'm coming Zanthus, hang in there!"

Clive starts to run to Mayor Deverin, and while he passes by the side of his new allies, he finds the time to ask: "Has anyone seen my son? Is he okay?", but he spends not a second by their side, and expects that anyone with an answer to his question will be kind enough to shout it at him.

He finally arrives at the mayor's side, and realizes that he's more hurt than he thought. If you can still walk, breath and shoot, then you're okay. Ready to start reloading the musket, he winks to Deverin and says "What's up, m'lady? Everything alrite? You wouldn't have just a bit of beer on you right now, would you?", he asks half-joking, half-serious. He knew he couldn't stop his hands from moving so he could get a bottle, but oh gods, the words he exchanged with his son still resonated in his head.

That would have to wait.

Move Action: Move to Z18
Standard Action: Move to AC18, right next to the Mayor.

Clive Boonie (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874299)
Male CG Human Gunslinger, Level 1, Init +4, HP 8/13, Speed
AC 17, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 15, Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3, CMB +1, Base Attack Bonus 1
Musket (Battered) (58 bullets) +5 (1d12, x4)
Studded Leather (+3 Armor, +4 Dex)
Abilities Str 10, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 13, Wis 16, Cha 12
ConditionNone

(already subtracted 2 ammunition)

[Koryander]

As the arrow whizzed by the goblins head, Cyarra cursed under her breath when her strike whiffed. Nobody's fault, but still. Her Tower Shield raised to deflect the goblins retaliation, the massive wall moved with practiced effort as the poor goblin didn't have much of a chance.

"...Could you please try not to kill them if that's possible?!"

As Cyarra looked up to see what provoked that kind of reaction, Sera was already long gone, causing her to blink for a moment in confusion. Aurelius however was standing there, caked in goblin blood making Cyarra shake her head and smirk.

"How about we kill them all, and then find a way to make it up to you... considering these goblins are trying to kill us all first. I bet-"

That voice was father Zantus.

"Please! Stop Them! Those sheltered inside the cathedral will not survive a blaze!"

Damn everything. Cyarra's eyes darted across the square, trying to find what put Zantus in such a panic. Unfortunately she found it fairly soon after, a pair of goblins raising some hell on a stage... and the good father was right, it was just beginning to set ablaze.

"Oh no."

Cyarra cleared her throat after the first wave of shock hit her, and then yelled as loudly as she could.

"I'm not as fast as you all decked out in all this armor. I'll fight this guy, you all go get the pyromaniac goblins on the stage!"

She swings her weapon at the crazed goblin, "This goblin alone is childs play, a out of control fire is NOT. Get THEM."


Cyarra five foot steps in front of Aurelius to drive her "Get the Stage Goblins!" point home, and then attacks G1!
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]



Female Archon-Blooded Aasimar (Lawbringers) Fighter (Tower Shield Specialist) 1LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 21, touch 12, flat-footed 19 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee bastard sword +3 (1d10+4/19-20)
Aasimar Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
. . 1/day—weapon of awe (DC 13)
--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 18, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 11, Wis 12, Cha 12
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 17
Feats Exotic Weapon Proficiency (bastard sword), Saving Shield
Traits bastard, monster hunter
Skills Diplomacy +2, Intimidate +7, Knowledge (planes) +1, Sense Motive +4; Racial Modifiers +2 Intimidate, +2 Sense Motive
Languages Celestial, Common
Other Gear scale mail, tower shield, bastard sword, backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, mess kit, pot, rope, soap, torch (10), trail rations (5), waterskin, 26 gp

[Askel]

What is this?! Zelgiel wondered in disgust as his second arrow missed, And in front of the lady, too... Third time's the charm, right?

The half-elf drew a third arrow and took careful aim at the fool goblin...


"Please! Stop Them! Those sheltered inside the cathedral will not survive a blaze!"

Suddenly distracted, he looked towards Father Zantus. The priest was pointing at something on the other side of the wagon, and Boonie was looking in that direction. They were looking to the stage.

What? When did goblins get over there?

"I'm coming!" Zelgiel shouted across the square to Zantus.

He brushed past Izzy as he hurried a few paces north, so that he could see the goblins before quickly ducking back behind the wagon. Zelgiel pulled back on the bow string once again, then leaned around the wagon, taking aim at one of the flame-brandishing goblins.

Desna, this is for one of yours. Is it too much to ask for a bit of the 'other' kind of luck right now? Zelgiel prayed silently, bemusedly, then loosed his arrow.

Move to R11
Attacking G2 with longbow:
[roll0]
[roll1]
(Any chance, since I was behind the wagon and out of their line of sight, that this might be vs. Flat footed?)
Stealth - (1d20+6)[7]

Rerolled, using a Hero Point: Reroll - (1d20+4)[15]

[King Tius]

Aurelius stares down at Cyarra and nods, turning his attention to the goblins on the stage. Though he had no idea who the woman was, she was dressed like a warrior and he was used to taking orders. From his time spent at sea, he knows how quickly fire can spread and what a serious concern it is. He takes off at a run, bounding towards the and getting ready to take on the remaining two goblins.

Father Zantus! Can you conjure water to stop the fire? I'll handle the goblins!"

Move Action: Run to AC12-AB13, losing Dex bonus to AC (doesn't matter, no Dex bonus to AC at the moment!)
Standard Action: Attack G2 at AC10 (Large size = Reach 10!)
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Full Round Action: Run to AC12-AB13, losing Dex bonus to AC (doesn't matter, no Dex bonus to AC at the moment!)



Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +2, HP 10/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 16, Touch 10, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +6(+5) (2d6+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 20, Dex 11, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition Enlarge Person, Bless

[Recherché]

If you’re talking about the man you were about to shoot, he’s over in the picnic area doing quite well for himself.


Izzy yells at the old man. As for herself she is no so certain, Izzy looks around for a third time, his time searching for something, anything to put to use as a weapon or to put out the fire. The crowds have retreated now, too far to grab something off of them. The mage who’s been fighting with them has a cloak, but there’s not enough time to try to grab it. If she doesn’t do something quickly the fire will spread and it will be even harder to extinguish. If Father Zantus hadn’t already put it out, did that mean that he couldn’t? Certainly he was close enough to do so if he had prayed for that power in the morning. But no, who would pray for that on the day of a festival.

Zegleil has a cloak as well and the priestess might be able to grab it as she runs past. Surely he would forgive her for it; the cloak would be going to a good cause. On the other hand if it’s fastened as securely as Izzy guesses she could strangle him trying to take it off him. She almost laughs despite the stress of battle at the mental image of her dragging a half strangled Zeg behind her as she runs to the fire. No that won’t do. The only thing Izzy really has on hand is her own clothes and that’s not an option.

Data est mihi, per solam fidem, et committo me est sola fides

The ancient Taldane still feels strange and yet comforting in her head,

By faith alone I am granted these gifts and it is to faith alone that I commit myself”
My Lady I know that you have already given me far more than I asked for. Far more than I deserve. But please gran me one more prayer in your name and the names of those in that church!
“Domina mi, scio quod me non datur, ac multo magis quam postulavi merui. Fac me unum etiam miraculum, et in nomine tuo, quod nomina in ecclesia”

Izzy prays as she runs alternating between the familiar informal Varisian and the formal ritual Taldane. She hopes that Desna will hear one of them but also remembers that the gods help those who help themselves. Desna has already given her priestess swift feet, it is Izzy’s responsibility to put them to good use.

Izzy still can’t reach the fire in time, but at the moment when her legs begin to give out she feels a faint swelling of power inside her and strikes with it. Not at the goblins but the flames themselves. A soft rain falls out of nowhere onto the fire and Izzy nearly falls to her knees with a mixture of gratefulness, relief and exhaustion.

Move to W11
Spend hero point to switch out Read Magic for Create Water
Cast Create Water above the fire

[Feather Sigil]

"Why did I come here? To this festival, to this town? Why didn't I stay at the inn?"

"You waste your time on regrets. You made your choice. See it through to the end."

Just before Sera could reply, she heard the desperate call to stop the goblins from burning the cathedral. Turning immediately, she gasped at the sight of the fire. "No!" All those people, trapped behind the stone walls as the fires closed in; they couldn't let that happen.

"'Someone might be in trouble'. They are. Will you help them, or will you cower here at the sight of a little blood?"

Sera glared at her. It was far from a little blood, but Luna was right nonetheless. She had to try, at least.

The others seemed preoccupied with the remaining goblins. She could run to the fire and smother it with her cloak. If she went around the back of the wagon she could keep the dead bodies out of her sight and possibly escape the remaining goblins' notice, but it would still leave her exposed. Those things could much more easily than she could in a robe. What if she asked Luna to carry her cloak to the fire and drop it from above? But even if Luna could do that, they still had their torches. A single torch could set the doors and who knew what else inside on fire, and they could throw them at Luna; she couldn't endanger her like that.

...Or someone else could take care of it, conjuring rain to douse the flames. That still left the goblins themselves. "Very well."

With that, she ran off, moving around the square, placing her hands at the side of her face to hide the bodies. Reaching the other side of the wagon, she stopped upon seeing someone else was there with her. A woman she'd never seen before, kneeling and looking very clearly exhausted. "Excuse me, are you alright?" Ahead, the goblins seemed completely engrossed in their tending to the fire. Perhaps they could take them by surprise...

While Sera watched the goblins, Luna lifted from her shoulder and rose a short ways above the square. From there she looked all around for anything even remotely threatening, goblin or otherwise.



Sera moves to U11. Luna ascends 15' and makes a Perception check to determine if there are any other goblins or other threats in the area.

Perception: [roll0]



Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 1
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 8/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 597/600 rounds

[LordHavelock]

"What's up, m'lady? Everything all right? You wouldn't have just a bit of beer on you right now, would you?"

"Clive Boonie?!" Mayor Deverin exclaims, clearly as shocked at his presence as she is to find him wielding the musket which made him famous back in her parent's days. "I thought for sure that . . . nevermind! Put that thing to good use and I'll see to it you have your run of the Two-Knight's Brewery!" The good mayor claps the silver haired musketeer on the shoulder, pushing him a bit in front of her before she ducks behind the outcropping of the Cathedral's outer walls.


Father Zantus! Can you conjure water to stop the fire? I'll handle the goblins!"

"I can! So long as you're between me and those blades of their's!" Says Father Zantus, and while he's clearly relieved at Aurelius's presence, the paladin of Abadar is close enough now to see the sheen of sweat on his temples and brow. The Priest of Desna is clearly quite perturbed, and not merely in regards to the safety of the new cathedral and those now sheltering inside.

Izzy’s heartfelt plea and prayer as she drops to her knees are clearly heard and witnessed by all, not the least of which can only be her patron goddess, as a brief but blessed flurry of rain outpours onto the burning timbers of the stage. As the flames sputter and die, the scent of the smoke draws the attention of both Goblins towards the priestess kneeling in prayer and relief, just in time for Zelgiel’s arrow to strike home in the throat of the nearest goblin, causing it to topple off the opposite end of the stage. Furious at having their fire ruined, the remaining goblin rushes at Izzy with a wrath equaled only by his apparent pyromania as he swings his torch at her menacingly.

Cyarra kills Goblin 1
Zelgiel kills Goblin 2
Goblin 3 Charges Izzy, but first Aurelius receives an Attack of Opportunity

http://i.imgur.com/o8F4JsG.png

[King Tius]

With a swing like he's chopping wood, Aurelius brings his enlarged sword straight down, cutting off the goblin's path of pursuit...and his head!

Attack:[roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Looking about and seeing no more goblins in the immediate area, Aurelius nods quickly to Father Zantus before turning and looking at the group of people standing around him. While the rest of the crowd had run in fright, these five had chosen to fight.

"C'mon, it sounds like other parts of town need our help!"

Without waiting for a response, Aurelius turns and bounds off to find somewhere else he can be of use.

[Feather Sigil]

Almost as soon as Luna had flown off, Sera felt her alarm. She would certainly return with bad news. Seeing the young man raise his sword, Sera quickly turned away and shut her eyes before...

She still heard the wet sound of blade slicing through flesh, and the little squeak of life vanishing from the goblin, and she shuddered.

"They are building a bonfire in the square before the garrison."

Looking at the buildings to the west, it was easy to see the rising pillar of smoke. Sera stepped out from behind the wagon and called to everyone present--particularly the young man, before he ran off who knew where. "Wait! They're at the garrison!" She pointed towards the smoke. "We shouldn't blindly rush towards them; there might be things even worse than goblins over there." We? She hadn't exactly intended to say that, though she was part of this one way or another. They probably expected her to come along, implicitly at least, but they didn't know exactly what awaited her there.

They could still use my help, but if I go the group from Magnimar might recognize me. Even if I help, the sheriff and mayor won't defend me once they learn of the charges against me. How could they? This is one of Magnimar's holdings; they could send their entire military here to capture me if they needed to. I can't trust that any of these people would help me, or put them at risk for my sake. I might be able to help while staying hidden, but even then...I'll just have to leave discretely once the goblins are dead, and hope they don't follow me.

Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 1
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 7/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 596/600 rounds

[Koryander]

"Wait! Where..."

She glances back, hearing Aurelius, and then Sera's slightly conflicting cry's. Realizing some coordination may be in order, Cyarra wiped the blood off of her sword and frowns somewhat, not wanting to startle the somewhat perpetually disturbed woman.

"Alright, hold it. We need to have a little pow-wow, right now."

She glances to Izzy and gives her a wave, then to Zelgiel, doing the same.

"If we want to do this right, we need to sort this out as quickly as possible. Our woman with the pet crow is right, a fire is burning and we need to be quick. But flailing about is the wrong way to do it, we need to work like a unit."

She glances once again to Sera, trying to give her the most comforting smile she could muster. Cyarra turned around, towards where Aurelius was, and nodded at him, then to Clive.

"You lot seem to be the best fighters and magic users around here, and this isn't my first time in a fierce battle. We need to go in there knowing we have each others backs or people can get hurt or die. Now, are we going to do this right or are we going to put ourselves at risk?"

[Askel]

With the goblins on Izzy as her prayer brought down water to quench the flames, Zelgiel didn't think about shooting.

"Izzy!" he cried in dismay, drawing two exotic, wickedly curved blades as he charged to her aid, but before he ever arrived, the giant knight was there.

Just like that, the cathedral was safe, if not the town. Zelgiel sighed with relief, offering Izzy a hand and pulling her to her feet.

"That was..." but he didn't even have the words for it.


"Alright, hold it. We need to have a little pow-wow, right now."

Zelgiel turned to look at the warrior who was now speaking. Nearby, there was Mayor Deverin, and Father Zantus, and old man Boonie. A few paces away were the giant knight and the strange woman who the half-elf suspected was some kind of spellcaster; and of course, there was Izzabetta and himself.


"If we want to do this right, we need to sort this out as quickly as possible. Our woman with the pet crow is right, a fire is burning and we need to be quick. But flailing about is the wrong way to do it, we need to work like a unit."

She glances once again to Sera, trying to give her the most comforting smile she could muster. Cyarra turned around, towards where Aurelius was, and nodded at him, then to Clive.

"You lot seem to be the best fighters and magic users around here, and this isn't my first time in a fierce battle. We need to go in there knowing we have each others backs or people can get hurt or die. Now, are we going to do this right or are we going to put ourselves at risk?"

Oh this is rich... Belor would love her...

Despite himself, Zelgiel smiled wryly.

"The watch would appreciate whatever help you can offer us. If you're going to help at the garrison, I'm with you. If one of you - " Zelgiel looked emphatically at the giant knight " - could give me a foot up, I can take to the rooftops on Tower Street and provide cover fire."

Zelgiel looked again at the exhausted priestess, though, and at the magic-user. Neither of them looked like they were meant for battle or bloodshed. Desperate times? Or just wishful thinking? the half-elf wondered.

[King Tius]

Aurelius realizes he is running in the wrong direction and awkwardly walks back to the quick huddle. He nods enthusiastically at Cyarra and starts to head towards the garrison, pausing to give Zelgiel a boost up to the rooftops.

[Koryander]

"The watch would appreciate whatever help you can offer us. If you're going to help at the garrison, I'm with you. If one of you - " Zelgiel looked emphatically at the giant knight " - could give me a foot up, I can take to the rooftops on Tower Street and provide cover fire."

Cyarra folded her arms while Zelgiel spoke, nodding her head softly, "Well, I'm happy to give it, for what its worth."

The Aasimar, content with the first two answers so far, looks to Aurelius and chuckles, shaking her head. She places her hand on his shoulder... actually, she can't reach his shoulder. Instead, Cyarra awkwardly places her hand on his hip and smiles.

"You know, you're allowed to have your opinion as well... but I appreciate the help none the less."

She gives the now giant man a curious glance, "What say you and I take lead when we march into the square?"

Glancing back towards the rest of the group, "Considering we are all together on this, and we stick to protective formation with everyone else."

[Recherché]

Uhm does anyone have any weapons or armor they could lend me? I mean I know I'm not that good at fighting but I can at least defend myself a little its just . . .

Izzy trails off looking at the destruction around her.

What was all of this for? Did I really help anything?

Her gaze fall on Father Zantus as she looks for some kind of response from him and tries to look as though she knows what she's doing.

Or if we could stop by my house I have some equipment there. It's not far from here. Also is anyone injured badly? I can try to patch people up before we head out.

[Feather Sigil]

Sera kept her eyes on the garrison, pretending--at least to herself--to maintain a watch on the roads ahead. In truth, she didn't want to meet anyone's gaze, especially not that of that hooded woman. There was an expectation of unity and camraderie in the air, neither of which she could afford to give. At the request of a weapon she immediately hesitated. She didn't know how to use her dagger and certainly didn't want to unless it was absolutely necessary, but if her magic failed her she would much rather have it than her nails. On the other hand, if she was found out and accosted now a single small blade would do hardly anything against experienced warriors such as these.

It occurred to her that the garrison, like the town hall next to it, could be approached from either the north or south. She knew; she always avoided it and took longer routes to get around it. But if they approached it from both sides on purpose they might be able to confuse the goblins, and a more widespread group might help to draw attention from her. They had two swordsmen, an archer, a rifleman, that other lady and herself. Two teams of three, each with one close-range fighter, one long-range fighter and one...civilian.

"I have an idea." Kneeling, she lifted up the hem of her robe slightly and drew a dagger from a sheath attached to her shin. "There are six of us, at least two who prefer to fight in close quarters and at least two who prefer to fight at a distance. We could split into two groups of three, one approaching the bonfire from the north and the other from the south..." Wasn't that a real battlefield strategy? Pincer or somesuch? "..., each group having at least one to engage the goblins directly--in front, leading the charge, as it were--and from afar. Goblins are already unintelligent and deranged; this would bewilder them and they would be unable to focus their offense to any one direction." Turning to the lady who asked for a weapon she presented the dagger to her--awkwardly trying to hold it by the tip of its crosstree, the hilt facing the lady. She'd seen Garth and others in the past spin knives in their hands to give them to someone; how did they do that? "This is all I can provide. What say you all to this plan?" Amidst Luna's concern and resolve, Sera felt a sudden pulse of approval. She knew nothing of warfare, but at least what she was saying wasn't completely ridiculous.

[Askel]

"...Yeah, actually that's not a bad idea," Zelgiel agreed, taking a second look at the woman who'd voiced it.

She didn't look particularly impressive, but then, he'd always heard it took a shrewd mind to master the magics so popular in the south.

Is she even southern...?

"And the sheriff and his men should still be in that area, too. Even if we can't take all the goblins, we can just hold them long enough for Be-the sheriff to arrive with reinforcements."

[Recherché]

Izzy shakes her head at Sera

Keep the dagger, you'll likely need a weapon as well before this is done and I'm none to good with the bladed ones myself. I do like your plan though. If anyone else can keep up with us, Zegliel and I can take the roofs and drop down on them from below. Or if I can find a sling we can provide ranged support.

Izzy looks around the area for anything that could be used as a mace, club or sling

[Melquiades]

"Clive Boonie?!" Mayor Deverin exclaims, clearly as shocked at his presence as she is to find him wielding the musket which made him famous back in her parent's days. "I thought for sure that . . . nevermind! Put that thing to good use and I'll see to it you have your run of the Two-Knight's Brewery!"

"Heh, you be a good mayor and don't worry about it. Some of us were born to push papers, others to drink and shoot goblins in the face."


If you’re talking about the man you were about to shoot, he’s over in the picnic area doing quite well for himself.



"Oh, I'm glad, m'lady! And I wasn't about to shoot him, you just watched a lesson on good parenting, that's all."" Clive shouts back at her, clearly being ironic, and then proceeds to reload his weapon. While he finished doing it, he witnessed Zelgiel hitting a goblin in the neck "Guess he finally woke up, huh?", and the giant slicing the last goblin in half.

A lot of talking went on then, but Clive wasn't in the mood to partake just yet. His old eyes watched, the tired ears were listening. "Hm. We might just have a chance with this lot. They aren't that bad. And wait, that armored guy who just helped me is a girl? How come? Wow.

And then, something really surprised him.



"I have an idea." Kneeling, she lifted up the hem of her robe slightly and drew a dagger from a sheath attached to her shin. "There are six of us, at least two who prefer to fight in close quarters and at least two who prefer to fight at a distance. We could split into two groups of three, one approaching the bonfire from the north and the other from the south..." Wasn't that a real battlefield strategy? Pincer or somesuch? "..., each group having at least one to engage the goblins directly--in front, leading the charge, as it were--and from afar. Goblins are already unintelligent and deranged; this would bewilder them and they would be unable to focus their offense to any one direction." Turning to the lady who asked for a weapon she presented the dagger to her--awkwardly trying to hold it by the tip of its crosstree, the hilt facing the lady. She'd seen Garth and others in the past spin knives in their hands to give them to someone; how did they do that? "This is all I can provide. What say you all to this plan?"

"That's... not b... good." After recovering from the initial shock of seeing a woman, who looks like a civilian, giving what could be considered somewhat advanced tactical input, he smiles. "Although if Zelgiel continues to shoot like that, it wouldn't be really fair to have me in one group and him in the other one. Also, at my age I prefer to have my feet on the ground, thanks. It's also better to shoot them right in their faces."

[Koryander]

"Alright then, looks like we've got a plan."

Cyarra nodded in approval to Sera, then to the rest of the group.

"Now then, pardon me for being all take charge again, but I think our formation is sound."

She looks over to Clive and smiles, eyeing his gun. She's never SEEN one before, but it looked pretty incredible.

"What do you say you go south with my armored fellow over here, hit a rooftop and shoot them full of holes?

Then, her eyes focus onto Izzy, the unsung hero of the day. She gave her a bright smile.

"And for the heroine who prevented the entire district from going up in flames? Back up our gigantic friend as he comes swinging from the south."

Finally, she turns to Zelgiel and Sera. She gives Zelgiel a nod of confidence,

"You'll hit the rooftops north with me and our mysterious friend here. Fill them with arrows and this'll be over quick."

With that, she gives everyone a nod. She waits a few moments for people to begin busying themselves with their rolls, then approaches Sera by the side, not looking at her directly... no, she's done too much of that tonight. Instead, she just spoke.

"Listen. I realize you're sick of me tonight, and I'm sorry. I can't help it, I feel like something's wrong and I'm worried. Trust me, if I could just forget about it I would... but I can't. Its complicated in a way I don't think I can explain right now."

She let out a small sigh,

"But despite this... almost obsessive need to protect, I'm realizing that I'm causing you more trouble than its worth. Allow me to at least make sure that you make it through this fight in one piece... and in return I promise you that I wont bother you again. As hard as it is knowing someone, namely you, could be in serious peril. I'm going to do my best to drop it."

Cyarra continues to look forward, still not making eye contact with Sera.

"Consider this my official acknowledgement that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and that I am sorry I troubled you so much today."

[King Tius]

Aurelius seems to be growing antsy. He's shifting his weight back and forth from leg to leg and looking around nervously as the group discusses strategy and makes its way (slowly) towards the garrison. There is an air of arrogance and impatience in his voice when he speaks, his voice taking on a slightly loftier accent.

"Yes, yes, that plan sounds fine, but can we get a move on? If we talk any longer there'll be no town left to save! Get a move on!"

When he turns to look at the group, his eyes squinted slightly in annoyance, he realizes that he's talking to a complete group of armed strangers and his face goes blank.

"I...I'm sorry. Mother always said I was impatient. I just don't want anyone to die because of our dawdling."

Aurelius increases his pace towards the garrison, resisting the urge to break into a jog and leave everyone behind.

OOC: Seriously, the town's under attack. Enough with the tea time!

[Askel]

Who died and made her sheriff? Zelgiel wondered, but only for a moment. Then, the impact of the thought caught up with him and he inwardly and outwardly cringed.

"Right, let's do that," Zelgiel agreed, then hurried down the street, taking the offered foot-up to get to the rooftop, then settling in to a good position where he could see the entire area around the garrison.

Zelgiel dropped to one knee and carefully, quietly, readied his bow and a handful of arrows. He had the high ground, and (hopefully) none of the gobs would notice him up here. The half-elf waited, quietly and patiently, even taking the time to enjoy the mid-afternoon breeze on his face.

This isn't a half bad spot. I might have to come back here some time for a quick snooze...

Taking 10 on climb check (with assistance) to get up to the roofs. Getting a good vantage point.
[roll0]
Looking around, taking note of enemy movements, locations of intense fighting, position of goblins, perhaps source of goblin entrance into town, etc. Also looking for Sheriff Hemlock and the Scare-netti (ha ha HA!).
[roll1]
Gonna wait on any kind of attack or the like until the others are ready and charging etc., but still readying bow. I will hold initiative if need be (unlikely).
[roll2]

[Feather Sigil]

Ah, she'd completely forgot. "My apologies, miss I just remembered I have a sling as well." And from within one of the pockets of her robe Sera produced it along with a pouch containing a few rocks, offering both to the lady. "My aim is dreadful, I'm afraid; it's useless in my hands but you're welcome to it. Now that is truly all I can give." Yes, Seraphina, make yourself an accessory to yet more murders. As they say, darling: in for a copper, in for a platinum. But this time she would be prepared. Hopefully things would prove to be less chaotic this time and she would more easily avoid any dead bodies.

After the others voiced their approval of her strategy Sera couldn't help but wonder where, if anywhere, she had learned it, if it hadn't truly simply been a lucky idea. Had Mother taught it to her? She certainly would have known all about this sort of thing...

While some of them, including Luna, went on their way Sera indulged the aasimar's pleas and apologies, though she only listened somewhat. Reminders of just how many things were wrong in her life and how clearly mediocre her attempts at normalcy were made poor distractions from thinking about her mother. Once the aasimar was finished she only replied "We shouldn't linger any longer" before making her way down the western street, toward Junker's Way, and then south towards the garrison.



Recherche, Sera's sling and ammo are all yours. :smallsmile:

As the party began to move out, Luna flew ahead and above the garrison to see what exactly was there, making a Perception check for anything important in the square. She'll return to Sera once she reaches the north end of the square.

Upon her arrival Sera also makes a Perception check for anything important in the square--in particular, for someplace where she can hide from the group from Magnimar while still being able to contribute to the fight.

Perception (Sera): [roll0]
Perception (Luna): [roll1]
Initiative: [roll2]

[Koryander]

Cyarra folded her arms once more, grunting as she walked off with hardly an acknowledgement.

Well, Cyarra. That's what you get for listening to your blood. You know what?

"Fine." she says almost viciously, moving up to position.

Cyarra marches in north while her mood goes south, pulling out her sword, lowering her cowl, and entering the square brazenly and almost recklessly. Her mood was shot and she needed some evil to kill to make things better. Nothing like pretending you're some sort of Paladin out to smite with zealous abandon, she heard that was all the rage with the Aasimar that she's never met before that probably didn't exist.

Cyarra made sure her footsteps were loud and in charge, scale mail striking the ground with fury as she marched into the square. The more who focused on her, the better, both for the party's sakes, and she had some aggression to unleash.

Cyarra does a look around the garrison, and will do a perception just like everyone else.

Preception: [roll0]
Also! Initiative!: [roll1]

Cyarra marches into the square like some sort of angel demon ready to knock a house over with her bare hands. She's readily announcing her position.

[LordHavelock]

As the group of combatants gather round to plan their next move, Father Zantus and Mayor Deverin stand clearly in awe, along with a few other individuals peering out of the cathedral’s stained glass windows. The heavy wooden doors to the cathedral begin to swing open a little, with a few braver souls moving into view to look upon the festival turned battleground, observing the smouldering stage, overturned tables and booths, and most of all, the assembled party of Cyarra, Aurelius, Izzy, Clive, Zelgiel, and Sera, with much reverence in their eyes and no doubt as to how they might have fared without the intervention of these heroes. Before even a murmuring of a cheer can begin though, the group splits up into two trios, one headed south down to Tower Street and the other along Junker’s Way in the direction of the rising flames where the bonfire was meant to be held. More and more of Sandpoitns citizens begin to stream out of the cathedral doors, as Father Zantus and the Mayor direct them to return to their homes, secure their families and belongings, but as the crowds begin to disperse, some lone soul yells out across the square, “Drive those buggers out!” To which a murmur of approval grows into a rousing cheer echoing down the streets as the new town heroes disappear from view around each corner.

Along the way, each party sees signs of more smoke and hears the sounds of wanton mayhem as goblins do their damndest to create havoc in the streets, breaking glass and carving up all within reach, and stuffing their faces with anything even remotely resembling food. More than a few times a goblin is seen traipsing through the street ahead of you, chasing a dog, or frolicking about with his crude cleaver like weapon and torch in hand, but before the well armed and purposeful advance, they are quick to duck down side streets and alleyways, cackling as they go, and always singing their wretched verses:

Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!

In the square before Sandpoint Garrison and Town Hall, you are greeted with the sight of what was supposed to be the evening’s bonfire, but has become a towering inferno as the goblins continuously heap more and more fuel onto the blaze, urging it higher and higher with thought, word, and deed. There are four of them wielding their crude little blades and bits of kindling which they intermittently toss on the bonfire or just light for their own twisted amusement. So far, none of the nearby buildings have caught fire, and the town hall and garrison on the south side of the square are blessedly built of stone. On the north side however, thatched roofs and timber might at any point take light, even beneath Zelgiel’s feet from his vantage point over the square.

As the two parties arrive, weapons drawn and purpose clear, the goblins are suddenly taken aback, dropping whatever’s in their hands until the war-chanter rouses them to battle with a crack of his whip and a shout to, “Kill the Longshanks! Kill them all!”


Being caught unawares, the Goblins will act at Initiative 0, so the PCs are free to post, and combat will continue alternating from there.

Askel, all the goblins are considered flat-footed for Zegliel


http://i.imgur.com/jEXUKka.png

[King Tius]

Aurelius strides forward ten feet and slices at the nearest goblin, opting not to rush in carelessly like his drill instructor used to chastise him about. He lets out a yell, half a shout of fright and surprise, half a battle cry. "For Abadar!"


Move Action: Move forward 10 feet
Standard Action: Attack G3
Attack: [roll0] (includes Bless)
Damage: [roll1]

Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +2, HP 10/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 16, Touch 10, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +6(+5) (2d6+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 20, Dex 11, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition Enlarge Person, Bless

[Recherché]

Ah, she'd completely forgot. "My apologies, miss I just remembered I have a sling as well." And from within one of the pockets of her robe Sera produced it along with a pouch containing a few rocks, offering both to the lady. "My aim is dreadful, I'm afraid; it's useless in my hands but you're welcome to it. Now that is truly all I can give."

Thank you so much

Izzy sets off after Aurelius at a loping gait keeping up with the heavily armored man easily.

Me a hero? I'm not one of them. If I hadn't put out that fire someone else would have easily enough. And yet . . .
No, I'm no hero; these other people, they're the warriors they might be, but not me.

Its soon enough that Izzy turns onto Tower Street and sees the fire.

My Lady is this why you answered my prayer? Not the fire near the cathedral but for here.

Aurelius, Clive, if you clear me a path I can start working on putting out the fire!

Izzy feels around for the threads of fate and pulls, but this time . . . this time there are new threads barely formed but shining in gold connecting the members of their band.

Bonds shouldn't form this quickly. It should take months if not years. So what is this, fate? If so who am I to question it.

Izzy loads a stone into the sling just in case she needs it.


5ft step to AH13
Standard Action: Bit of Luck on Clive
Move action: Load sling

[Koryander]

Cyarra let out a long, shaky sigh, she was about to do something stupid of course. But stupid would be good so long as she became the goblins prime target.

Come on, confidence, be loud. Be disruptive. Make them hate you.

She looked back to Sera and nodded. This girl that she didn't even know somehow became a source of frustration for the day... but it was Cyarra's own fault for this frustration, not the poor woman. It was because of this ridiculous need to fawn and protect every helpless man or woman that seemed to be in need of help.

She felt bad because of it.
She remembered everything about her celestial heritage that made her bitter.
And now she felt angry.
She turned back towards the goblins, and right there in front of her was an outlet for her anger.

"Perfect."

She turned to Sera briefly.

"Stay safe."

She turned towards the horde, and charged.

"RaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH."

"Be loud. Be angry. Make them hate you. Make them hate you so that everyone stays safe."


Cyarra charges G2, taking -2 to AC and +2 to attack:
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

Female Archon-Blooded Aasimar (Lawbringers) Fighter (Tower Shield Specialist) 1LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 19, touch 10, flat-footed 17 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex, -2 from Charge)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee bastard sword +3 (1d10+4/19-20)
Aasimar Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
. . 1/day—weapon of awe (DC 13)
--------------------

[Feather Sigil]

Upon arriving at the square, Sera first looked all around for a place to hide, even something as simple as a barrel large enough. It seemed as though everything that wasn't in the buildings had been destroyed or tossed into the fire by the goblins; the square seemed barren but for the heaps of debris. The safest location in the square seemed to be right behind the aasimar, what with that massive shield of hers. Of course, protecting her might be the least of the aasimar's priorities after how rudely she disregarded her offer. She could apologize, but now was hardly the time to renew that talk. Even though it was best not to let any ill will linger between them, for now she might be better off left to herself. Sera nearly apologized anyway, but after hardly a curt word the aasimar charged roaring into the fray.

"Do you still care for these fools after hearing so witless and tone-deaf a war song?" Luna landed on her shoulder again, positively brimming with disgust.

"I beg your pardon?"

"'Goblins bump'? That's not threatening, they know nothing of...why are you standing here? Do something!"

"O-Of course!" She moved closer to where the aasimar clashed blades with one of the goblins, trying to stay behind her at all times.

"Ignore the pawns, they will fall." Luna gestured with a wing to the mottled gray goblin holding a whip. "Cripple the king."

"That's their leader?"

"A leader, but I suspect a greater will drives that one. This attack is unprecedented." That didn't come as a surprise to Sera. It wasn't in goblins' nature to cooperate, let alone coordinate, and certainly not to the point of invading a settlement like this.

Sera reached the aasimar just in time to look away from a dead goblin. "I'll make it harder for them to hit you." And you, in turn, can make it harder for them to hit me. But to do that, she would have to find them first.

Darkness is in every place, every time, every mind. Immortal. Inescapable. A shadow is not begotten by a light, for 'twas already there before the light was born and 'twill remain after the light has died.

Peeking over the aasimar's shoulder, Sera looked straight ahead at the whip-goblin. Glaring at it, focusing on it, she quickly felt her own shadow once more. With a greater effort of will, she could feel what her shadow touched: other shadows, which touched even more, connecting her to everyone and everything around her.

The simplest thought and reality itself are both painted on a black canvass. Darkness unites us all; from this place to all others, from our minds to all others, even from this plane to all others. Once you begin to reach past yourself, you will see this, and nothing will be beyond your influence.

From there, it was only a matter of reaching across the dark path into the goblin's mind and projecting a single, simple concept into the darkness within: doubt. There were no surges of energy, no incantations spoken, no gestures made, no indications of any kind that she was doing anything other than giving the goblin an angry look, and yet something happened.

It felt the uncertainty, the trepidation, the vulnerability. It could boss some weaker goblins around, but the world was full of dangers, including the giant Longshank and the screaming one. Plenty of things could break bone, plenty of animals could prey on goblins too slow to get away, plenty of fears could make it want nothing more than to cower in a cave. The world was full of dangers, and it couldn't survive all of them. It was weak, inept.



Sera moves to one square north of wherever Cyarra moved to and hexes GW with Eye of the Night (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/witch/hexes/common-hexes/hex-evil-eye-su). GW suffers a -2 penalty to all saving throws for 5 rounds or, if it makes a DC16 WIL save, for 1 round.



Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 1
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 5/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 594/600 rounds

Eye of the Night (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/witch/hexes/common-hexes/hex-evil-eye-su) (on GW): TBD

[Melquiades]

Clive tries to keep up with Aurelius while they are running towards the garrison, and it's pretty hard for him. Luckily, they don't take long to arrive, and when they do, Clive needs to catch his breath while he observes what's happening. Okay. So, maybe I should aim at the guy calling the shots there?

Clive feels... something. The girl just touched him, but he felt a shivering on his back. He felt more confident. Younger.


"Aurelius, Clive, if you clear me a path I can start working on putting out the fire!"

"C'mon miss, we all saw what you did back there and we're grateful, but there's a difference between a little fire and this inferno. I don't mean no offense. I think we might be safe if we don't let them put any more fuel in that thing."

Clive needs to take a step to his side, so the big man in armor would not be in the way of his bullet. If this was 30 years ago, he would probably just run right in their middle, shooting anything that moved, pretending there was a bullseye on every goblin head and hardly missing any of them. He knew he had gotten slower, weaker. His wounds from just a minute ago were there to prove it. He hoped time would have made him smarter.

He saw the girl commander jumping into the action. Clive knew what she was doing. It should be pretty obvious to anyone who has ever been in a fight, except maybe the goblins. Don't be stupid, girl. You don't need to do that. We can take some hits. Sorry, I can't let you take all the credit for this one.

Boonie heard their warchant, and then smiled. Too much time drinking and you'll eventually learn to sing... While he aimed, he also shouted the first words that came to his head:

Goblins jump under my thumb,
Goblins watch while I take a dump!
Take a bullet in your head,
Enough to make a goblin dead!

And then, as always...
BANG!

5-ft step to AG11.

Standard action: I'm using one grit point and shooting the Goblin Warchanter with Deadeye. It means I attack Touch AC even if the target is farther than my weapon's range increment. Since it's in the second range increment (it's not more than 80ft away from me), I need to spend only 1 grit. Also, I take -2 on the roll, right?

Attack: 1d20+4 (+4 dex, +1 BAB, -2 distance, +1 Bit of Luck from Izzy) - c'mon, give me a critical.
Damage: 1d12

Move action: Reload the musket.

Clive Boonie (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874299)
Male CG Human Gunslinger, Level 1, Init +4, HP 8/13, Speed
AC 17, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 15, Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3, CMB +1, Base Attack Bonus 1
Musket (Battered) (57 bullets) +5 (1d12, x4)
Studded Leather (+3 Armor, +4 Dex)
Abilities Str 10, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 13, Wis 16, Cha 12
Condition None

[Koryander]

Upon arriving at the square, Sera first looked all around for a place to hide, even something as simple as a barrel large enough. It seemed as though everything that wasn't in the buildings had been destroyed or tossed into the fire by the goblins; the square seemed barren but for the heaps of debris. The safest location in the square seemed to be right behind the aasimar, what with that massive shield of hers. Of course, protecting her might be the least of the aasimar's priorities after how rudely she disregarded her offer. She could apologize, but now was hardly the time to renew that talk. Even though it was best not to let any ill will linger between them, for now she might be better off left to herself. Sera nearly apologized anyway, but after hardly a curt word the aasimar charged roaring into the fray.

Sera reached the aasimar just in time to look away from a dead goblin. "I'll make it harder for them to hit you." And you, in turn, can make it harder for them to hit me. And that would be much easier to accomplish if their enemies had no idea what she was doing to them.


Cyarra quickly glanced back, seeing Sera and smiling something of a smile of relief. She raised her shield in front of the smaller woman and kept her steely eyes upon the battlefield.

"Alright, thank you. Stay close then."

Keeping her protective looming presence over Sera, she looked towards the Goblin Warcryer.

"What do you say then? Go for the big man or should we leave that to guns and arrow?"



This was a REALLY fancy way to say that Sera will, for now, get priority Saving Shield. And Cy will apply it every round if Sera gets attacked in any regard. That'll be +2 AC and it'll sacrifice Cy's immediate action next round.

Also, some RP free action talk if Psy wants to.

[Askel]

HP: 10/10 AC: 16 (13 T, 13 FF, 17 CMD)
Fort: +3 Ref: +5 Will: +2 (Elven Immunities)
Ammunition: 16/20

Zelgiel waited, taking his time, watching for the right target. Some of the others were targeting the hideous singing gob, but there were four others moving about the square. Zelgiel shifted his aim to one of the bat-eared idiots ahead of the warrior and the caster. The fool had no idea he was here. Zelgiel had all the time in the world.

Steady... Patience...

Twang!

Attacking G1
[roll0]
[roll1]

[LordHavelock]

As Aurelius strides forward, swinging his sword and crying out for his god, the goblin ducks low, under the blade, narrowly avoiding the giant Paladin’s attack, but with the encouragement of the War Chanter (and his whip) uses his advantageous position behind Aurelius’s guard to attack! The goblin throws the full weight of his little body against the dogslicer, jamming it into the juncture between the paladin’s greaves and his boot and cackling sadistically as he does so. While Zegiel and Clive’s shots do go wide, they do inspire the Goblin War Chanter to seek cover behind the tallest pile of wood, obscuring him from view from Aurelius, Clive, and Izzy, even as he orders another of his kin directly into the fray with the towering pillar of armored Aasimar that is Cyarra, dispatching the cowering gobbo in front of her with ease. Clearly hesitant to so much as approach the tower-shield wielding woman, let alone attack her, he makes a half-hearted slice with his crude blade, shutting both eyes and holding the weapon out in front of him almost protectively. The final goblin, apparently undetterred, clambers up onto the woodpile currently concealing the Goblin War Chanter and with a shriek of triump, tosses his lit torch through the window of the building across from him, shattering the glass. Spotting Zelgiel on the rooftop, he makes a point of doing a little goblin dance which ends by the disgusting little freak dropping his pants and mooning the half-elf in the full.

Meanwhile, the sound of rising screams can be heard with growing intensity from within the building where the goblin threw his torch!

Aurelius misses Goblin 3
Cyarra kills Goblin 2
Goblin War Chanter fails Will Save
Clive Misses Goblin War Chanter (Spends one Grit Point)
Zelgiel Misses Goblin 1

Goblin 3 takes 5-foot step to AB13 and hits Aurelius for 4 damage.
Goblin 4 clambers up onto the pile of wood and tosses his torch through the window of the building at Z8.
Goblin Warchanter ducks behind the Woodpile to Z11; No Line of Sight for Aurelius, Clive or Izzy, partial concealement and cover for Zelgiel.


http://i.imgur.com/Qb8q3oI.png

[Askel]

HP: 10/10 AC: 16 (13 T, 13 FF, 17 CMD)
Fort: +3 Ref: +5 Will: +2 (Elven Immunities)
Ammunition: 15/20

Damn gobs! Zelgiel cursed to himself, quickly drawing another arrow.

Suddenly, one of the little freaks was on the wood pile. It tossed a lit torch into the house on which Zelgiel was perched, and then -

"Ugh... Seriously?!" Zelgiel cried, looking away for a moment in disgust.

He could already hear screams and smell the smoke of the torch... but there was something off. Zelgiel's keen elven ears twitched.

Those don't sound real. What- Ah. A distraction.

Zelgiel loosed his arrow at the offending goblin, hoping to catch it right in the behind. He needed to move; the screams might be magic, but the torch definitely wasn't. Zelgiel knew from experience that these places didn't take long to turn into an inferno, once the fire was sparked. The half-elf dropped off the roof of the house to the street below, landing hard on his feet.

Attacking G4 with blessed longbow
[roll0]
[roll1]
Acrobatics check to reduce fall damage from a deliberate fall and drop down to W5
[roll2]

[Koryander]

"Iomedae's left tit, this just keeps getting worse." Cyarra whispers to herself as the torch is thrown.

She swipes her sword away from the now felled goblin, then looks to the leader of the pack. He was a ripe target, but... Her sights move back to the little bastard right next to her. If she bailed on this one and went for the Warchanter, it'd possibly leave Sera open to attack from behind. With luck, the leader would be pinned down by the others long enough for Cyarra and her companion to make a move on it.

Cyarra raised her weapon, and struck down on the next little beast.

"Alright, sorted."

Satisfied with her work, looks to Sera, trying her best to keep the blood away from her view with her shield, and the combat high off of her facial features...

"Lets move towards the leader, stay behind my shield as best you can, alright?"

The Aasimar gleams over to the hiding Warchanter and makes her move, working to trap the green deviant like a rat.


Cyarra will strike Goblin G1 with HER WEAPON. ONG.
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

And since its dead! Cy makes her way over to V11, behind the Warchanter

Female Archon-Blooded Aasimar (Lawbringers) Fighter (Tower Shield Specialist) 1LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 21, touch 12, flat-footed 19 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee bastard sword +3 (1d10+4/19-20)
Aasimar Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
. . 1/day—weapon of awe (DC 13)

[Recherché]

Well that's obviously not working.

Izzy's temples are pounding as she stares at the chaotic threads of fate weaving around her.

Don't think. Just feel. Just act.

Izzy lets her concentration on the threads of fate lapse and sees the fire. However the screams, the screams aren't quite right. Still it's not as though she'll let the building burn.

There that's where I need to be.

The priestess takes a few steps towards the torch and conjures water around it.

Move to AF11 and Create Water on the torch

[Feather Sigil]

The screaming seized Sera's attention, and she very nearly ran to the building so she could open its door and help anyone inside to safety, but hearing the repetition within the noise gave her pause. The same series of screams, the same pitches in perfectly repeating sequences. Those couldn't be real people.

"'Tis but a single repeating burst of noise."

"I hear it, too." She called out to the others "I think those screams are false." before quickly looking around; sure enough, right in front of her the warchanter knelt, hands and lips moving in what could only be spellcasting gestures. Ghost Sound. But they fear and despise magic, no wonder he's able to command them. Sera reached into his--she thought it was male, anyway--mind again, this time projecting a brief delusion of his own kind dancing around him in the square. "That one was casting a spell to deceive us, but it should expire soon if we don't let him renew it." Which was important because there was still the chance that some of those screams were real, perhaps drowned out by the magic. Unable to tell the difference herself, Sera whispered to Luna "Can you tell if any any of it might be real?"

"I doubt it, but do not forget: that torch and its flame are still real."

The faster they could take out the goblins, then, the sooner they could investigate. And move on or leave. She'd heard the growing cheers while they made their way to this square. The town was watching their every deed. She hadn't seen the party from Magnimar, but the garrison was right there; they could be watching through the windows. Sera crouched directly behind the aasimar's shield, keeping her eyes on the warchanter. He was capable of casting magic, and that made him considerably more dangerous.

Although she knew goblins could plan ahead as much as dogs, Luna quickly looked behind Sera, checking the square for anything that would indicate incoming ambushes or other unwanted surprises. This warchanter had some influence over his lesser kin and was rare for being able to wield magic, but even he did not seem so out of the ordinary for goblins that she could believe he gathered multiple tribes together for an invasion. Surely something greater still was behind all of this.


Sera casts Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze) on GW (DC15 WIL to negate) and then moves to U11.

Luna makes a Perception check on the square, for anything suspicious. [roll0]


Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 1
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 4/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 593/600 rounds

Eye of the Night (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/witch/hexes/common-hexes/hex-evil-eye-su) (on GW, -2 to saves): 4/5 rounds

Immunity to Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze) (1 minute, GW): 10/10 rounds*

*Only if GW fails his save and is dazed by the spell

[King Tius]

The young paladin can't help but cry out in pain as the goblin jabs its nasty little weapon into his leg. What follows is a stream of very un-paladin-like curses as the enlarged teenager once again takes a swing at the little goblin below him. The screams from the nearby building give him slight pause, but only for a moment. Growing up in Magnimar, Aurelius had experienced his fair share of illusory voices, especially given the fact that one of his closest friends was a gnomish lad who was studying to become a wizard. Quickly dismissing the fake cries for help, he focuses all his attention on the goblin right in front of him.

"Ugh! By the Horns of Erastil, I am going to bash your ugly little head in!"

Standard Action: Attack G3
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Move Action: If G3 goes down, he'll advance 10 feet to attack G4. If G4 has ALSO gone down, he'll advance a full 20 feet, headed around the wood pile.


Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +2, HP 6/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 16, Touch 10, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +6(+5) (2d6+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 20, Dex 11, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition Enlarge Person, Bless

[Melquiades]

Clive was pissed. How can they know those screams aren't real? What if they're wrong? Still, there should be enough time until anyone was hurt, or at least he hoped. He wasn't pleased to miss the goblin with the whip, but he wouldn't try again now that his target was behind the wood pile. Nice and easy. The less opponents we have, the faster we can sort this out.

Boonie starts moving, looking for a better position to shoot at the goblin that threw the torch. You're gonna pay for that.

"Hey, greenhead, look at this!"

CRACK!

Clive moves to AC12 and shoots at G4
Move action: Move to AC12
Standard action: Attack: [roll0] (+4dex, +1BAB, +1 Bless, +1 Point-Blank Shot)
Damage: [roll1] (+1 Point-Blank Shot)

[LordHavelock]

The goblin taunting Zelgiel is left little time to consider the wisdom of it’s actions in retrospect as the half-elf’s arrow not only finds it’s (disgusting) target, but Clive’s musket round impacts it a split second later, giving the foul creature’s body a spin as it fall’s off the top of the woodpile to land with a sickening crunch on the packed earth below. Maneuvering her way to within view of the torch, Izzy’s divine intervention once again douses the fire before much harm can be caused; Sera’s spell however only serves to spur the Warchanter on, as he rounds on the advancing Aasimar, blood still dripping from her blade and raises its hands to afflict her with a hex of it’s own. Cyarra’s indomitable will serves her well in the face of the arcane attack, but on the far side of the square, Aurelius has already dispatched the last remaining minion gathered here at the bonfire, and advances to encircle the goblin leader.


http://i.imgur.com/awIgFrE.png?1


Zelgiel kills Goblin 4
Cyarra kills Goblin 1
Izzy douses the torch inside the building
Goblin Warchanter resists Sera’s spell
Aurelius kills Goblin 3
Clive shoots G4’s corpse (sorry)

Goblin Warchanter takes 5ft step to X10; uses Daze on Cyarra; fails

[Askel]

HP: 10/10 AC: 16 (13 T, 13 FF, 17 CMD)
Fort: +3 Ref: +5 Will: +2 (Elven Immunities)
Ammunition: 14/20

Zelgiel grinned approvingly as the goblin spun and fell from the woodpile. He began to walk forward, toward the goblin singer, drawing an arrow and pointing it at the creature for only a second before firing.

Regardless of the arrow hitting its mark or not, the half-elf shouldered his bow and drew his long, slender sword and the small inverted knife at his belt.

Attacking warchanter with longbow
[roll0]
[roll1]

Moving to W9 while putting bow away and drawing Scimitar and Kukri (if I can't do all that in one round, I'd like to cut my move action a little short and just put the bow away, then continue the move next round and draw the weapons; my BAB is +1 so I can move and draw/put away weapons at the same time, and I just like the image of Zelgiel walking forward as he gets ready for melee; it's in line with the action hero thing)

[Feather Sigil]

Sera tried her best to remain calm in the presence of what was clearly a hostile mage. There was no telling just what the goblin was capable of. It had only used cantrips so far, but that could be due to overconfidence or general goblin madness. For all they knew it could cast a Fireball at its feet, perhaps in a moment of desperation, and kill them all in a suicide attack. It would be best not to give it the opportunity.

'Tis a tool of many uses, a shadow. To strike, to shield, to conceal, to grasp. With the shadows of others: to bind, to bend, to break, even to control.

Using Cyarra's shadow as a bridge, Sera reached to the mage's shadow and prepared to reshape it, when she felt a great satisfaction and amusement swirling, building within Luna. Luna merely stood silently on her shoulder, eyes closed, still breathing, but the emotion swelled until Sera found herself beginning to grin without meaning to; and there was something else as well, like an invisible bubble she felt expanding past her body.

"Go on" Luna whispered, her eyes still shut. "Pay me no mind."

Suddenly feeling much more confident that her spell would work, Sera seized the goblin's shadow, and then the square became dark, its many shadows blackening until the ground beneath them could not be seen. The sunlight dimmed as though covered by a fog, and a great voice boomed throughout the square. She couldn't tell where it came from; it seemed to echo from every direction at once.

"Hunters tail the goblins’ flight."

From the many black masses on the ground, one rose from beneath the goblin mage, a large shapeless thing of shadowstuff.

"Laugh with mirth at goblins’ fright."

It changed into an exact copy of the goblin mage, like his shadow made three-dimensional.

"Chase them to their goblin holes."

The shadow grabbed the goblin from behind, holding his arms in place.

"Eat their hearts and drink their souls."

Then the darkness faded and the square returned to normal, save for the goblin's shadow still restraining him. The overpowering swell of emotion faded from Sera's mind, but she could still feel a smug delight warming Luna from within.

"Much better."

Sera wasn't sure whether to be astonished or terrified. Only once before, at the forging of their pact, had she ever witnessed anything like such power in Luna--or, rather, the Night, for that was surely one more fleeting glimpse of what Luna truly was, far more than a mere raven.


Sera casts Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt) on GW. DC16 REF to negate. The Night Taunts (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/witch/hexes/common-hexes/hex-cackle-su) GW, extending Eye of the Night (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/witch/hexes/common-hexes/hex-evil-eye-su)'s duration.



Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person) (1 minute, on Aurelius): 3/10 rounds
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 592/600 rounds

Eye of the Night (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/witch/hexes/common-hexes/hex-evil-eye-su) (on GW, -2 to saves): 4/6 rounds
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt) (1 minute, on GW): 10/10 rounds*

*If GW fails his save.

[Koryander]

Cy's eyes widened a bit as Sera began to cast her spells... The Aasimar's breath caught in her throat as an acute understanding of just how dark this woman's magic was began to form in the pit of her stomach.

The casting was a terrifying, but also fascinating sight to behold. The effects upon the goblin seemed just as daunting as the ritual that caused it.

"Wow."

She couldn't be sure, she couldn't know. But... if that was dark magic, who was this woman exactly? A warlock? Some sort of dark wizard? It was no question that there was dark spells involved, conjurations that could make ones shadow manifest. But despite the disturbing nature of what transpired, the prose of her spell casting was incredible. What other forces were at work here though, to cause shadows to bend and shape to her will? If she was causing the Warchanter some sort of magical distress, then the time to kill that thing was right now. There was no better opportunity.

"Girl, you're making this easy." Cy said with a smile, then attacked the Goblin Warchanter.

Cyarra 5 foots to W10 and Does the thing with the weapon.
Attack Roll: [roll0] (I forgot the +1 bless last time!!)
Damage: [roll1]

Crit confirm and Damage, if it does in fact confirm:
Crit Confirm: (1d20+4)[20]
Crit damage: (2d10+8)[21] (two dice rolled and double str)

Female Archon-Blooded Aasimar (Lawbringers) Fighter (Tower Shield Specialist) 1LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 21, touch 12, flat-footed 19 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee bastard sword +3 (1d10+4/19-20)
Aasimar Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
. . 1/day—weapon of awe (DC 13)

[Feather Sigil]

Once the shock of the event wore off, Sera remembered that she had bigger things to worry about than this goblin attack. The townspeople were already watching them; there was no doubt that the whole town heard the Night speak and at least some of them--perhaps those who fought alongside her--would find it disturbing. Suddenly feeling very small and exposed, surrounded by a thousand eyes she couldn't see but with nowhere she could escape to, it was all she could do to simply look at the ground.

ARE YOU TRYING TO LEAD THEM RIGHT TO ME?! She knew Luna couldn't hear her thoughts, but could and would feel her distress.

[Recherché]

Okay what can I do now? I could try to h-

Izzy's attention was drawn by the actions of the other mage and the warrior

Date-n sange!

Izzy let out a curse in Varisian

Its okay just because its dark magic doesn't mean that its evil. There's lots of stuff that's dark but not evil. Still I coud have tried to get him to surrender. We could have gotten information out of him!

Futu-ți pastele si dumnezeii mă-tii astazi si masine de nenorocit!

For those who speak Varisian, what Izzy's saying is well and truly obscene and involves blood, invoking the gods, someone's prostitute of a mother and sexual deviance inside of a church.

[Melquiades]

"Oh... crap." It's not like Clive had never seen magic right in front of him, of course not. But he didn't remember something like this. To untrained eyes, sometimes even his rifle seemed magical. But he knew it wasn't. Wood, iron, powder and the height of human intelligence and engineering, that's all. He was not someone to be startled easily, but...

Who is this woman?

Well, she's not from Sandpoint. I'd remember her. Well, if not from Sandpoint then... Those people Lucas was escorting, weren't they looking for someone? Ok, Clive, keep your mouth shut and don't go assuming things. It's none of your business.

"Well done, guys. Is this the end of it? Can we go back to enjoying our damn festival?"

[Askel]

As Zelgiel walked, everything darkened. A voice boomed across the square; even the flickering fires seemed to diminish in quiet dread from the fury of the magic. Zelgiel, so brazen and confident moments before, ducked down, sheltering himself from the unknown surge of arcane power until, just like that, it was done. The goblin was dead.

What the hell was that?! Zelgiel wondered, rising back to his feet and blinking as he looked around in bewilderment.

That, he was sure, had not come from Izzy, especially given the vulgar obscenities she was uttering. Besides, Desna didn't really do the showy bits like that... and judging by Boonie and the female warrior's faces, it hadn't been them either. Wide-eyed, unblinking, Zelgiel slowly turned his head to look at the girl, the spellcaster. She certainly looked surprised, but... Zelgiel was ready to bet right leg that she'd been the source. The half-elf opened his mouth to say something, thought about what he'd say, then closed his mouth.

I'll let Belor get this one.

Instead, he strained his keen elven ears, listening for the sound of more fighting anywhere in the village.


[roll0]

[Feather Sigil]

Sera knew they were all watching her, and if the lady's very colourful expression was anything to go by they were all as shocked by the Night's display as she was. They didn't realize it hadn't truly been her doing, but it didn't matter now; no one was going to forget that, or her, anytime soon. And at least one of them, the archer, said he was a town watchman. I'm doomed... If her help wasn't needed anymore, there was only one thing left to do.

"Th-that is an excellent idea, sir. If they're all gone..."

Sera looked around the square again, while slowly backing away from the others.

"...then...then we can return to the cathedral and put all this out of our minds." They could, anyway. All she would do was bolt back to the inn as fast as she could, then stay indoors for a month.


Checking for any other goblin sounds, signs of trouble nearby or the party from Magnimar.

Sera: [roll0]
Luna: [roll1]

[Koryander]

Cyarra could only wince as she sliced through the goblin warchanter... yes, she wanted to hurt it. Yes, she wanted to STOP it. But her frustration and heat of the moment ended up massacring the miserable little green bastard.

Well... so much for questioning. Blew it again, Cy.


Futu-ți pastele si dumnezeii mă-tii astazi si masine de nenorocit!

Cyarra blushed somewhat, she didn't quite know what her fellow one-time team mate had just said, but it was probably something along the lines of-
"Nice job leaving him alive so we can figure out what the hell just happened!"
Or something equally as frustrated. She could only sigh and poke at the messy remains once.

"I... didn't mean to go at it so hard. Heat of the moment, sorry."

Readjusting her hood again, so that it was low to her eyes, the Aasimar stood up and glanced around. The fighting seemed over, for now, which was good. The people in town were safe.

What happens now? That was the question, Cyarra figured.


"Well done, guys. Is this the end of it? Can we go back to enjoying our damn festival?"

The Aasimar could only look sadly to Boonie, shaking her head, "I think I had all the fun I can handle today. You should get that cut looked at, by the way."

And then there was the mage, or sorceress, or whatever the hell she was. She turned to face Sera, and there it was again, the stuttering in her voice, that... something in her eyes. The blood that pumped in Cyarra's veins couldn't abide by it. She tried to shut it out. Maybe there was some other lost soul in need, some other person out there she could just refocus her efforts on, to make that nagging need go away.

Cyarra looked to Zelgiel, to Boonie, to Izzy and Aurelius, they all had at least some sort of degree of control about them. Sure, they all seemed to have concern for the sudden outburst of their raven haired companion, sure. But none seemed so terrified, so in need of protection.

"I want to help you."

She blurted it out, unsure of what she even meant by that, or how she was even able to do so. Cyarra, despite the hood concealing her face, looked helpless none the less. Help? Help how? Help what? You met this person what, twenty minutes ago? Maybe more, maybe less?

You're a #$^% madwoman, Cyarra. You know that? A #$^% madwoman.

Truth is, this wasn't the first time she's had this reaction with a person, nor would it probably be the last. But now was not the time to harass a poor girl who wanted to be left alone from mad aasimar compulsions.

"I... Sorry. I don't know what... I don't know what I... sorry."

Cyarra looked like she looked when she first walked into Sandpoint, ashamed of who she was.

Please stop to see yourself as we see you.

Cyarra did take a peek around when she addressed Boonie, so I'll do a roll as well:
Preception: [roll0]

[King Tius]

Aurelius leaps to the top of the woodpile (made all the easier by his enlarged status) to try and get the drop (literally) on the goblin warchanter. Once he mounts the pile, he sees his help is no longer required as Cyarra nearly cuts the little creature in two. Standing there, looking very much like some kind of awkward statue, Aurelius uses his vantage point to scan the area for more goblins. Seeing no immediate threats, he hops off the pile as the last of the enlarging magic fades, returning him to normal size. With his sword still drawn but hanging limp in his hand, he approaches Sera. As he walks towards her his eyes mist over, becoming pure silver before disappearing again. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sun reflecting off a window pane? Once he's close enough to speak to her in polite conversation, he smiles with a mixture of politeness and thinly-concealed pain as he motions towards his bleeding leg.

"That goblin got me real good. You seem to have quite the knack for magic. Do you have any healing spells at your disposal?"

Aurelius will use Detect Evil on Sera, only for a round to detect the presence (or in this case absence) of evil, just to make sure he's got nothing to worry about on account of the shadow magic

[LordHavelock]

With Sera's shadowed bonds holding the Goblin Warchanter awkwardly in place, scarcely able to defend itself, Cyarra is able to take full advantage of the position, foregoing the usual awkward bulk of her tower shield in favor of an all-out offensive strike with her sword, the blade carves through the goblin's patchwork armor and into the mottled gray-green flesh beneath, eliciting a quickly strangled death rattle by the goblin leader. The furious blow very nearly cleaves the wretched instigator in twain, leaving it's body rent apart from its collar to its groin, which despite it's small stature is no less gruesome a feat of arms for the celestial blooded warrior now standing over the broken remains. The bonds of shadow dissipate as the last of life's blood pours out from the gaping wound, which is just as quickly sucked into the dry packed earth of the square, leaving not a puddle but a stain of bluish black ichor around Cyarra's boots to match the rivulets running down her blade and flecks across her upper body.

The reaction from those assembled is notably mixed, as several of the others who joined in the battle seem every bit as conflicted over the raven haired woman's apparent feat of shadow magic. The bonfire still blazes high, but without the goblins to dump further fuel on it, the only remaining concern is to be sure it will not topple over from it's own weight and into the one of the more flammable buildings on the north side of the square. Gathering together around the woodpile, there's scant time for words however before Father Zantus comes running full tilt down the Tower Street. Sparing only a brief glance for the dead goblins, he focuses his attention pointedly on Aurelius and Izzy, "The North Gate." He manages to get out, before he has to take a deep breath to slow his heart, "Another band trying to break into the White Deer Inn. Your boy, was there Clive, picking them off from the top floor, but a few of them had bows as well . . ." He trails off looking over to Clive, "He was still fighting when I left to find help, but he'd taken at least one arrow and there was another gobiln directing them, riding some sort of monstrous rat."

The good priest of Desna's brow suddenly arches as he looks from Aurelius to Clive and back again. "You're wounded, quickly, let me see to those and then we must make for the gate!" He strides forward, placing a hand on Clive and the Paladin's shoulder and closing his eyes. A soft luminescence of blue green light emanates in a palpable aura outward from Father Zantus and bathes those assembled in the grace of Desna, mending wounds and restoring vigor, lightening all burdens and imparting a sense of new wonder at the good work yet to be done.


Channel Energy to heal everyone 7 HP

[King Tius]

Aurelius feels the healing energy flow through his body, knitting his wounds closed and revitalizing his will to fight. He can't help but shudder in relief from healing and moan slightly. Getting stabbed by goblins hurt so much more than the bruises he'd collected during practice drills. Though he's been gifted with Abadar's divine light, he was still very much a young man, and a formerly-coddled one at that, so his threshold for pain was not what he would have liked it to be. Still, now that he was back to full health...

"Thank you for the healing, Father. Clive was it? Let's go find your son." Turning to the rest of the group. "We're doing well so far, we should stick together. We'll have to introduce ourselves properly later, but I'm Aurelius Stormscale."

[Askel]

Zelgiel grimaced at the mention of more goblins, and of the White Deer.

That's Garridan's place... Probably won't even thank us for the help. Where's Belor, anyway? Probably sitting on his arse having tea or ale with the Scarnettis, chatting about the weather. That's what I'd be doing, anyway...

"Are you sure we're actually needed?" Zelgiel asked, frowning, "I know the guy who runs the White Deer. He's tough, and besides... there should be guards by the gate who can handle this."

Zelgiel was aware that his voice was sounding a little whiny, but it couldn't be helped. His day just kept getting worse, and he was hardly a hero. Most of them weren't real heroes, in fact. Two civilians, an old man, and Zelgiel himself.

"Don't get me wrong, I have a duty to get down there..." the half-elf conceded, "But the watch should have it handled. I doubt there'll be any goblins left by the time we get there."

[LordHavelock]

Father Zantus fixes Zelgiel with a gaze as stern as it is admonishing. "Watchman Lowstring, I always thought you were better than that." speaks the priest of Desna, suddenly every bit the authority figure, as he removes his hands from the shoulders of the injured and faces Zelgiel with his hands crossed in front of him. "Your penchants for shirking duties and general laziness are one thing, but cowardice in the face of a threat to the town who took you in? Do you really intend to disappoint your fellow watchmen? Sheriff Hemlock? The whole reason he puts up with your malingering is that he has faith in your ability and your drive to do what is right when the need is most dire, and for a man with as little faith in anything as Belor, you should know how much that means." Father Zantus shakes his head with solemnity, as if in final dismissal of the pleading half-elf.

"And to think I encouraged his faith in you, on little more than what he and the our dearly departed Father Tobyn had to say of your good nature." He sighs heavily and throws his hands up, "I suppose I won't be the only disappointed one though, not once all the young women of Sandpoint learned your habit of dereliction extends to outright cowardice."

[Koryander]

Cyarra stepped in front of Aurelius, eyeing him cautiously as she approached Sera. Something in her blood could feel the goodness of this man, and it was throwing EVERYTHING in her head off balance. What was Cyarra protecting anyhow? Did she deserve protection? But then she felt another tugging, towards another direction. Sera didn't want anyone around her, that was for certain, she wedged herself further between Sera and the giant Aurelius.

Relax Cyarra, he's just asking for healing. What's WRONG with you?


"The North Gate." He manages to get out, before he has to take a deep breath to slow his heart, "Another band trying to break into the White Deer Inn. Your boy, was there Clive, picking them off from the top floor, but a few of them had bows as well . . ." He trails off looking over to Clive, "He was still fighting when I left to find help, but he'd taken at least one arrow and there was another gobiln directing them, riding some sort of monstrous rat."

The relief in her eyes were massive as the distraction came swift and hard. She swallowed as Aurelius spoke.


"Thank you for the healing, Father. Clive was it? Let's go find your son." Turning to the rest of the group. "We're doing well so far, we should stick together. We'll have to introduce ourselves properly later, but I'm Aurelius Stormscale."

"R-Right. Cyarra, Cyarra Maewood. Its a pleasure to meet all of you. Well, that said, lets go save a town, huh?"

Cy looked to Sera, one last time, and waited for some distance from the others.

"Its obvious talking isn't going to work out between us, and I'm sure I've made it clear by now what my intents are for you. But you wont bite, and I can tell you don't want to be here. So I have one last offer... you take my cowl and cloak, its big enough to keep everything about you well hidden. You take it, and you walk out that south entrance, and you escape the goblins, you escape the queer eye everyone's going to give you now that they've seen whatever the hell you just did, and you escape whatever's kept you uneasy since arriving here. I say this because I can't seem to control myself, and its hurting me. I don't know if you can understand what my deal is, and honestly I don't expect you to. But I'm willing to give you a disguise and you can just walk away before you're dragged into whatever is going on."

Her eyes scanned what was going on with Zelgiel and Zanthus... maybe she could provide some encouraging words, depending on what Sera's choice would be...

[Melquiades]

"Thank you for the healing, Father. Clive was it? Let's go find your son." Turning to the rest of the group. "We're doing well so far, we should stick together. We'll have to introduce ourselves properly later, but I'm Aurelius Stormscale."

Clive is still a bit shocked from the news Father Zanthus just gave him. He barely looks at Aurelius, but answers while nodding his head. "Yup, Clive Boonie. It's a pleasure."

I'm not going to lose my son when I just met him after all this time. Children should never die before their parents. I won't let it happen.

The moment Zanthus finishes talking with Zelgiel, Clive already has his musket on his back and his eyes are narrow, showing determination and resolve. "If you're coming, you better do it now."

Clive starts running at full speed to the White Deer Inn. Please don't do anything stupid. Just hide until I get there. I'll take care of you, Lucas.

Clive will try to run at full speed to the White Deer. If his Constitution (14) doesn't allow him, I will spend a Hero Point if that's an applicable use. If that means arriving before the others because they can't or won't get there as fast as him, and he gets into combat before them, that's what he will do.

[Recherché]

Zelgiel grimaced at the mention of more goblins, and of the White Deer.

That's Garridan's place... Probably won't even thank us for the help. Where's Belor, anyway? Probably sitting on his arse having tea or ale with the Scarnettis, chatting about the weather. That's what I'd be doing, anyway...

"Are you sure we're actually needed?" Zelgiel asked, frowning, "I know the guy who runs the White Deer. He's tough, and besides... there should be guards by the gate who can handle this."

Zelgiel was aware that his voice was sounding a little whiny, but it couldn't be helped. His day just kept getting worse, and he was hardly a hero. Most of them weren't real heroes, in fact. Two civilians, an old man, and Zelgiel himself.

"Don't get me wrong, I have a duty to get down there..." the half-elf conceded, "But the watch should have it handled. I doubt there'll be any goblins left by the time we get there."

For a few seconds Izzy contemplates punching the half-elf in the groin or at least slapping him for his indifference to human life.

“Courageous people do not fear forgiving for the sake of peace." Violence against him will not get me anywhere. Deep breaths. Calm yourself.


Father Zantus fixes Zelgiel with a gaze as stern as it is admonishing. "Watchman Lowstring, I always thought you were better than that." speaks the priest of Desna, suddenly every bit the authority figure, as he removes his hands from the shoulders of the injured and faces Zelgiel with his hands crossed in front of him. "Your penchants for shirking duties and general laziness are one thing, but cowardice in the face of a threat to the town who took you in? Do you really intend to disappoint your fellow watchmen? Sheriff Hemlock? The whole reason he puts up with your malingering is that he has faith in your ability and your drive to do what is right when the need is most dire, and for a man with as little faith in anything as Belor, you should know how much that means." Father Zantus shakes his head with solemnity, as if in final dismissal of the pleading half-elf.

"And to think I encouraged his faith in you, on little more than what he and the our dearly departed Father Tobyn had to say of your good nature." He sighs heavily and throws his hands up, "I suppose I won't be the only disappointed one though, not once all the young women of Sandpoint learned your habit of dereliction extends to outright cowardice."

Izzy can't help but smirk slightly at Zantus's threat. Smirks and listens. Apparently her superior thinks that shaming him and dousing his romantic prospects will work. Who knows maybe Zeg actually has a sense of honor beneath everything.

Lowstring, I'm going. Whether or not you come with me is your choice but if you back out now, I will blame you for anything that goes amiss and if asked I will not lie about your cowardice.

Izzy rehearses the word in her head but when the time comes to speak them her throat seems to close up and no sound comes out. Doubt creeps into the space words would be.

What is challenging him makes him angry. I could make this entire thing worse. Besides I'm sure Father Zantus will deal with this issue. He knows the man better than me. Let him take care of it.



Cy looked to Sera, one last time, and waited for some distance from the others.

"Its obvious talking isn't going to work out between us, and I'm sure I've made it clear by now what my intents are for you. But you wont bite, and I can tell you don't want to be here. So I have one last offer... you take my cowl and cloak, its big enough to keep everything about you well hidden. You take it, and you walk out that south entrance, and you escape the goblins, you escape the queer eye everyone's going to give you now that they've seen whatever the hell you just did, and you escape whatever's kept you uneasy since arriving here. I say this because I can't seem to control myself, and its hurting me. I don't know if you can understand what my deal is, and honestly I don't expect you to. But I'm willing to give you a disguise and you can just walk away before you're dragged into whatever is going on."

Her eyes scanned what was going on with Zelgiel and Zanthus... maybe she could provide some encouraging words, depending on what Sera's choice would be...

Okay this time I should intervene. That last spell may have been disturbing but it was effective.

Uhm miss, I understand if you want to leave, I mean I was kinda rude about what just happened, and the bit about the ma-ti was probably a bit much, but I would really like it if you stayed. That spell was really powerful and it helped end the fight before anyone really got hurt. What you've done has saved a bunch of people and we could really use that. I know that what you did was kinda dark, but dark isn't always bad and light isn't always good. I'm sorry if I'm rambling but we could really use someone as powerful and gorgeous as you on our side.

Immediately after speaking Izzy looks panicked and covers her mouth with her hands.

Oh dear Gods, did I really just say that? Desna why couldn't you have given me the ability to roll back time just a few seconds and unsay everything?


"We're doing well so far, we should stick together. We'll have to introduce ourselves properly later, but I'm Aurelius Stormscale."

Finally one that was easy, or at least easier.

Do I really belong with this group? All of them can do so much, and I've done is put out a few fires. If I hadn't been there I'm sure someone else would have. Would it really make a difference if I slinked off now? Would they even notice? l

Izzy looks at the shadow mage and Zegliel again.

At the very least I can act as an example. After all I cannot ask them to do what I am unwilling to.

Izy steps forward.

Izabetta Meresis but everyone calls me Izzy. We should hurry, the longer we take the less chance that . . . well the less chance that Lucas will be alive when we get there.

[King Tius]

Aurelius nods respectfully back to Clive but bows to both ladies when they introduce themselves. After all, he was a member...well, former member...of the elite Magnimar social scene. When Clive takes off the young paladin gives a little shout of surprise and quickly takes off after him, trying his best to keep up with the sprinting gunman. He turns and calls back over his shoulder "Nice to meet you!" As he rushes after the concerned father, his mind temporarily distracted from goblins by the beautiful and/or mysterious women he's suddenly found for company. No time for that now...I've got to not die to those little green bastards first!

[Koryander]

If the man with the gun had family in danger, he was right, it was time to go. But things just kept getting more complicated as well. The relief she held when everyone ran off probably shouldn't have existed at all. She should have been mortified that someone else was in danger... But the raven haired woman needed her space as well, and she needed an answer before she followed the rest of them.

But this other girl, this Izabetta, heard what she told Sera. And she cursed herself for being louder than she intended.

"No no, don't take my word as her word, miss... Izabetta? I'm putting words in her mouth, she never said that." She looked to Sera, knowing the gravity of the question she just asked the poor girl, then back to Izzy... who hopefully wasn't able to catch on with how out of proportion she has already made Sera's current life choices. Cyarra mentally cursed herself for being so stupid.

"Really, that was all me. You know, always misinterpreting things. I can be so dense sometimes."

Cyarra peered behind Izzy, watching the rest move towards danger. Her feet became antsy, People. In danger. A son in danger. It was like a buzzing in her ear as suddenly it began to sank in, and her focus was once again thrown off.

Her feet were still fidgeting, but she didn't move without an answer.

Come on Cyarra, just go. Go help, go help them. Go help that poor mans kid, this one didn't want your help, and the old man needed your help. Move, get going.

But maybe she needs to get out, maybe she just needs an excuse, or a sign, or a way to move about without the people who saw her come in recognizing her as she left? Maybe this new woman, this Izabetta, is going to slap me in the head after she recognizes that I'm acting so strangely?

But her feet wouldn't move. And so she waited for some sort of sign, or answer.

[Askel]

"Watchman Lowstring, I always thought you were better than that."

Zelgiel's eyes widened slightly.

"Huh?"


"Your penchants for shirking duties and general laziness are one thing, but cowardice in the face of a threat to the town who took you in? Do you really intend to disappoint your fellow watchmen? Sheriff Hemlock? The whole reason he puts up with your malingering is that he has faith in your ability and your drive to do what is right when the need is most dire, and for a man with as little faith in anything as Belor, you should know how much that means."

Zelgiel raised his hands defensively, waving them back and forth, determinedly trying to get a word in.

"Wait a second, hang on! That's not what I was-"


"And to think I encouraged his faith in you, on little more than what he and the our dearly departed Father Tobyn had to say of your good nature."

Zelgiel was urgently trying to speak.

"Father Zantus, slow down. I think you-"


"I suppose I won't be the only disappointed one though, not once all the young women of Sandpoint learned your habit of dereliction extends to outright cowardice."

Cowardice...

And there it was. Suddenly, Zelgiel had clammed up. He was no longer trying to explain himself. He wasn't trying to get a word in. He just stared straight ahead, his face totally blank.

Coward... Your cowardice... You're a coward... You let them die...

That was it. Zelgiel took firm hold of Father Zantus's robes and looked him square in the face. His eyes were smoldering, and his voice shook as he spoke; each word was separate and cutting.

"I. Am not. A. Coward."

He let go of the priest. Some of the others had started to walk away, moving towards the gate already. Zelgiel shook his head in disgust and turned without another word, unshouldering his bow and moving towards the north gate. His thoughts remained black, however, and he veered away from the others, looking for a good high vantage point he could take to. He didn't want to fight close to them. He didn't want their stares on them, or their judgement, or their misconstrued ideas about him, and he especially didn't want the guilt that he felt in his heart, because he knew, deep down, that they were right.

Coward...

[Feather Sigil]

Amidst the discussion in the square Sera stood where she was and listened to the discussions and arguments, head hung, eyes shut, arms limp at her sides, relaxed in sheer resignation. Whatever shock and terror lingered from the Night's outburst, and whatever exasperation arose in her at the notion that this battle would seemingly never end, was swiftly replaced by overwhelming defeat. She couldn't escape. Even if she had never attempted to investigate that argument before this unpleasantness began, even if she had obeyed her better judgment and stayed in her apartment this morning, she would have been involved regardless, which was why she had no one to blame but herself. She could never have sat idly while others fought off the goblins outside. Three weeks ago she could have ordered guards and her own entourage to the fray; now she had a way of contributing by herself, a way that only made her stick out like an ugly dress--and that, too, was her fault. Perhaps once the goblin threat was dealt with they would simply deal with the dark mage threat right in front of them, and only then Sandpoint would be safe. Miss Maewood's offer availed her nothing; she would hardly last two days in the wilderness and there was nowhere else for her to go. But if she was doomed, would it be better to let her pursuers snatch her from some dark hovel, cowering and miserable, or would it be better to at least do something worthwhile with the time she had left and face her end with whatever dignity she could hold onto?

The one thing that pulled her from her miserable contemplations was, of all things, being called gorgeous. Sera couldn't help but look up and raise an eyebrow to...Miss Meresis. Clearly that slipped out without her intention, as evidenced by her reaction. Not to mention Sera looked far from gorgeous at the moment, she had blood all over herself, dirt on her robe, her hair was messy...but the compliment was welcome nonetheless.

Straightening up and taking a deep breath, she looked to both Miss Maewood and Miss Meresis. Perhaps she would seem a little strange, being overtly terrified one moment and resolved the next, but what else was she supposed to do? "Miss Maewood, your generosity and valour honour me but please, keep your cloak. You need it. Leaving won't help me; I have nowhere to go. If you wish to help me, keep fighting. Miss Meresis, thank you very much for your kind words. Now let's catch up with the others." So she ran off, following the distant Aurelius. Ah, yes, now she knew who they were, as well. The young man she'd empowered, Aurelius Stormscale. The town watchman, Lowstring. The aasimar, Cyarra Maewood. The rifleman, Clive Boonie. The Varisian with the colourful vocabulary, Izabetta "Izzy" Meresis.

[LordHavelock]

Coward... Your cowardice... You're a coward... You let them die...

That was it. Zelgiel took firm hold of Father Zantus's robes and looked him square in the face. His eyes were smoldering, and his voice shook as he spoke; each word was separate and cutting.

"I. Am not. A. Coward."

He let go of the priest. Some of the others had started to walk away, moving towards the gate already. Zelgiel shook his head in disgust and turned without another word, unshouldering his bow and moving towards the north gate. His thoughts remained black, however, and he veered away from the others, looking for a good high vantage point he could take to. He didn't want to fight close to them. He didn't want their stares on them, or their judgement, or their misconstrued ideas about him, and he especially didn't want the guilt that he felt in his heart, because he knew, deep down, that they were right.
Coward...

Collecting himself after Zelgiel's sudden outburst, Father Zantus looks briefly concerned, but then he quickly composes himself and looks after the now determined and grim half-elf. 'Perhaps I pushed him a bit hard . . . or assumed too much about why he should be so lazy.' Not one to dwell however, he quickly makes his way towards the garrison, looking to retrieve more help from Sheriff Hemlock and the other members of the watch if possible.

[Koryander]

Cyarra's eyes widened at the sudden change of pace of the raven haired girl. She took a moment to digest the offer.. then smiled. A real, genuine smile.

Its a start.

She let out a shaky sigh, then looked to Izzy, Cyarra looks like she's gotten her own resolve back as well.

"Well then, miss Izzy, why don't we go save a town?"

And, keeping pace with Sera and Izzy, she raced off to help as well. To the White Deer Inn... this kid needed help and nobody was dying today, if she could help it.


Cyarra will balls to wall run. Run run run. A constant 4x her movement speed until she makes it to the square. And being Cyarra, she'll probably run past every goblin In her way, giving the finger to attack of opportunities until she was besides Clives Son... if she could somehow identify him.

[LordHavelock]

The scene before the White Deer Inn is almost surprisingly grim, even compared to the cathedral square and the bonfire, as several dead goblins already litter the ground, but along with them are a pair of Sandpoint’s town watch, lying entirely too still whilst the band of goblin raider’s continue their mayhem. Two of the goblins are carrying crude but effective shortbows, and are peppering the two turrets of the north gate with arrows, where another two watchmen can occasionally be seen to pop their head over the parapet and fire a half-hearted shot from a crossbow. Another two goblins stand and taunt them, waving about their dogslicers and spewing their foul language in the general direction of the guards, as well as encouragements at the largest of the goblins who, as Father Zantus mentioned, sits astride what at first glance might be a large dog, but whose hairless tail and prominent teeth show it to be some enormous breed of rat. The goblin sergeant and his steed are hunched, perched triumphantly over the corpse of a true dog, a large breed of hunting hound, who no doubt put up a valiant fight, but like the walls of the north gate, has more than a few arrows protruding from him.

“Over here!” Comes a cry from around the corner of the easternmost building, a split-level guard house for those on duty at the gate, across from the Inn. The voice is hoarse, and clearly frightened, immediately drawing the ire of the goblins, but also rousing them to your presence as well. The goblins round and wave their weapons in the air, as their leader points with an oversized but crude sort of pole-arm (bearing more resemblance to a crude machete or cutlass tied to a broomhandle), and sounds the attack.

Up along the balcony of the second floor of the White Deer Inn, the slumped form of a bowman can be made out, similarly feathered with at least an arrow or two, as are the deck and bannister. His longbow lies askew next to him, and the glint of a silver sword can just barely be made out as Clive and the others approach.


First Round Initiative Order:
Izzy, Clive, Cyarra, Zelgiel, Aurelius,
Goblins
Sera

http://i.imgur.com/lVG4wDu.png?1

[Koryander]

As Cyarra joins the others in the square, her eyes go wide at the ghastly scene before them. This place ended up being far worse for the ware. Her eyes immediately move to the Nobleman who seemed to be in a very bad way, and then up to the second floor of the inn. Her breath caught in her chest for a moment, before her eyes raced to Clives,

"Is that your son up there? Get someone to him, I'm going to distract the goblins as best I can!"

Her feet move in automatic, she couldn't stop herself even if she tried, it was a mad dash to certain doom as all logic left her brain and muscle reflex took over.

You better hope that you're ready for this one dummy, cause this has to rank as one of the stupidest things you've ever done.

"Come on! How about you all fight a REAL target this time!?!"


Cyarra uses ANOTHER run action, trying to get in between all five goblins in a dazzling display of 'Lets see how quickly I can face plant Cyarra in the first action sequence in the game'. She can reaches up to s16.

If she's Attack of Opportunity'd by anyone, she will take the possible hit cause "she's Cyarra, lol"

[Askel]

Zelgiel stared in horror at the scene before him. He'd been right about the watch; they had been guarding the gate alright, and now they were dead. As he looked at the fallen, Zelgiel gritted his teeth.

Cowardice? I'll show them cowardice.

Zelgiel jogged out into the square, readying an arrow as he moved. When the rider came into sight, however the half-elf paused. Whatever it was, it was ugly. He took aim at the creature and was about to let fly when he became aware of the warrior-woman charging right out into the square.

"Are you insane?! Wait!" he called to her.

She's got a death wish!

He shifted his aim and tried to hit one of the goblins awaiting her, lest she end up completely surrounded.

Knowledge Nature to identify the beast-mount
[roll0]
Move to H21
Attacking G1 with longbow
[roll1]
[roll2]

[King Tius]

Aurelius watches Cyarra run straight towards the goblins with a look of bewilderment on his face. She gets about five paces ahead of him before he instinctively follows suit, keeping up with the armored woman and trying to make sure she doesn't get completely surrounded.

Hey! Don't break formation!

Aurelius will also use Run to keep up with Cyarra, ending up shoulder-to-shoulder at R16.

Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +3, HP 13/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 17, Touch 11, Flat-footed 16, CMD 17, Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +3, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +5(+4) (1d8+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, +1 Dex)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition No Dex bonus to AC due to Run

[Melquiades]

After seeing Cyarra and Aurelius rushing to the middle of the goblins, Clive is a bit reliefed. That should keep them busy for a while.

He looks at his son, and the dead goblins in front of the inn. You must have protected the inn. You did a good job son. Now rest. Clive couldn't get up there now, nor could he provide Lucas with the medical assistance he needed. What mattered now is that he couldn't get more hurt than he already was.

The old man advances just enough to make him clearly visible to his enemies. And then...

"Look. At. Me."

"Nobody. Messes. With. Lucas."

BANG!

Move Action: Clive moves to I20
Standard Action: He uses Deadeye, spending a grit point and shooting at the G2 goblin.

Attack: [roll0] (+4dex, +1BAB, +1 Bless, -2 distance) vs Touch.
Damage: [roll1]

[Recherché]

Izzy's face heats up with embarrassment and she prepares to run off ahead of the rest of the group.

Lady guide my feet!

She can outpace them, she knows she can, and if she does she might arrive in time when no one else can and she won't have to face up to what she just said. On the other hand if the priestess gets there before the rest of the group, what then? She could heal the defenders already there perhaps, but the chance of Izzy getting hurt or killed in the time between when she arrives and when everyone else does is too great. She'd be gambling not just with her own life but the lives of her allies and the people she's trying to save. So the priestess slows down and only keeps pace with the group bowing her head so that no one can see her expression as she contemplates if this is what cowardice feels like or is it wisdom.

When Izzy finally sees the battlefield she regrets her choice immediately. If she'd only run faster than the rest of the group she might have gotten here before Lucas went down. If he died now it would be on Izzy's head.

Izzy hurtles forward far faster than any mortal is meant to run finally coming into what she guesses is close enough to the fallen man before grabbing the icon from around her neck. Izzy draws in power raw and unformed from some source that she has never been able to truly comprehend, shoves the thread of energy through the necklace and releases it in a burst that always feels somewhat like a sneeze in her mind. She's never been too good at this trick; there are other acolytes that are better than her let alone the full priests but she prays that it will be enough.

I actually meant to cast expeditious retreat and then go hurdling off in front of the party but I waited to long to post, so casting ER then running like hell to catch up with the party and then keeping pace with them the rest of the way. Once at the battle moving to H15 and channeliong to heal
[roll0]

[LordHavelock]

As Cyarra careens into the midst of the goblins, she dashes just past one of them wielding one of their junkyard-cleavers, and in his bewilderment, the little beastie lashed out half-heartedly at her in passing, only to have it clatter harmlessly off her towershield as she blows by, leaving him spinning in place from the combined momentum. The goblin is far too dizzy and surprised to do anything as Aurelius also passes him by, moving into position to back up the battle-crazed Aasimar. The goblin left barely standing is suddenly lets out a cry of pain to accompany his surprise, sas Zelgiel’s arrow catches him in the back, but his cry and the report from Clive’s rifle is enough to rouse the other gobbos into action.

The pair of goblins previously keeping the watchmen pinned down, turn round and unleash an arrow each in the direction of the two heavily armored humanoids, but neither are able to find their mark as the goblins’ poorly crafted bows seem incapable of firing true. At least this works to the advantage of the goblin who goes charging into combat against Aurelius and Cyarra, as the arrows sail over all four heads of the now swirling melee of the holy warriors and their goblin foes. More tumbling into her rather than a full-fledged attack, one of the goblins manages to get past Cyarra’s tower shield, lashing out with his dog-slicer against her. The mounted goblin rounds and retreats backwards on his goblin dog, drawing a shortbow along the way, turning in the saddle to knock and arrow and wait for a clear shot.


G2 AoO misses Cyarra
Zelgiel hits G1 for 3 Damage
Clive misses G2

G3 & G4 miss with ranged attacks
G2 Hits Cyarra for 3 damage
G1 misses Aurelius



http://i.imgur.com/XhRfpKt.png

[King Tius]

Aurelius points towards the mounted goblin and its rat-dog mount.

"Get the leader! We'll handle these four!"

Hoping to stick true to his word, Aurelius whirls around to attack G2, hoping to kill the creature before it can get into a flanking position.



Standard Action: Attack Goblin G2 at R17
Longsword Attack: [roll0]
Longsword Damage: [roll1]

Not an Action: 5 foot step to R15



Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +3, HP 13/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 17, Touch 11, Flat-footed 16, CMD 17, Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +3, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +5(+4) (1d8+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, +1 Dex)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition No Dex bonus to AC due to Run

[Askel]

HP: 10/10 AC: 16 (13 T, 13 FF, 17 CMD)
Fort: +3 Ref: +5 Will: +2 (Elven Immunities)
Ammunition: 12/20

Zelgiel cursed to himself at the bull-headed attack. A frontal attack was reckless, if not crude. Whatever his misgivings, though, it was working well enough.

It won't work out so well when that rider joins the fray...

Zelgiel drew another arrow as he rushed around the outside of the square, looking for a better view of his target. He came to a stop in front of Izzy as she prayed. He thought about saying something to her, a warning to keep safe, or perhaps a clever remark, but the mood had left him. Even through his fear for his fallen comrades, Zelgiel still burned from the looks in their eyes.

Coward... the word rang out, distantly, from a corner of his mind. Zelgiel ignored it, and kept his mouth closed, choosing to say nothing to the woman, opting instead to simply keep her safe in silence.


"Get the leader! We'll handle these four!"

"You want me to get the leader? Alright, how... about... like... this?" the half-elf murmured, more for his own benefit than the ears of anyone listening, as he released yet another arrow, this one aimed at a new target.

Move to I15
Shooting at GC
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Koryander]

"Get the leader! We'll handle these four!"


Cyarra nodded in appreciation to the paladin's plan, turning towards the goblin ahead of her, carelessly, she ignored the goblin who just missed his strike... The little green monster followed up, striking her in the back. As Cyarra stumbled forward in surprise, her hood drifted off. Cursing at the gash in her back and for being exposed, she stood and turned to strike, but Aurelius was already doing a fine job offing it. Smiling in vicarious revenge, she faced the goblin in front of her, and moved in to strike it.

"Tch, we need to hold them here! Nothing gets through to the archer and gunman! We need to get to those goblins with the bows and arrow before they fire too many shots!"

Time to cut a path..

Cyarra moves in towards the poor little green thing, ready to strike it down.


Cyarra moves to V16 and seeks to END IIIIIITTTT /hardcore
Attacking G3
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]


Female Archon-Blooded Aasimar (Lawbringers) Fighter (Tower Shield Specialist) 1LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 21, touch 12, flat-footed 19 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 10/13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee bastard sword +3 (1d10+4/19-20)
Aasimar Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
. . 1/day—weapon of awe (DC 13)

[Melquiades]

"Tch, we need to hold them here! Nothing gets through to the archer and gunman! We need to get to those goblins with the bows and arrow before they fire too many shots!"


"Well, thank you lady, but I guess we can take care of ourselves!", Clive shouts bitterly to the woman in armor.

"They're too far. Too fracking far. I can't keep missing like this..."

The old man gets closer. If what you're doing isn't working, you gotta change it up. It was tiring. How much time had passed since they fought the first group of goblins? He couldn't be sure. It seemed like a lot to his body. Even more now, that he made an extra effort to run at a good position, reload the old weapon and fire at the goblin, all that before he had a chance to hit that crazy woman. Do not waste this one. Make it count.

I do not kill with my gun... ... ... I kill with my heart.

The bullet flew through the air.

Move Action: Move to M16
Standard Action: Reload weapon
Standard Action (spending a Hero Point): Attack the G1 goblin.
[B]Attack Roll: 1d20+7 (+4 dex, +1 Point-Blank Shot, +1 BAB, +1 Bless --still in effect, right? If it isn't, just subtract 1.)
Damage Roll: [roll0]

[Recherché]

I've done what I can right now for Lucas. Anything else will have to wait until after I can get up close to him!

Izzy turns her attention towards the goblins particularly the one that's already injured and moves toward them.

I suppose it's time to go on the offensive. These creatures have killed townsfolk; I shouldn't feel guilty about stopping them. still its different when you're the one deliberately hurting another sentient creature.

The tattoos on the priestess's neck glow brightly for a few seconds and those looking at her back may see a slight light penetrating the cloth there. Then the green and purple light flows down to her hands and Izzy shoots out a tiny jet of something noxious smelling towards the wounded goblin.

Move to M15 and cast Acid Splash at G1
To hit Touch: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Feather Sigil]

The sight of the corpses strewn across the square was simply too much for Sera. Groaning, she covered her eyes and turned from the gruesome sight, hearing the others charge ahead. A single dead body was frightening enough...

"You must not cower before death, lest it take you unhindered. If you are here to fight, then fight!"

I can't... Her every instinct screamed at her to stay as far away as she could, to the point where she could almost feel something tugging her even further from the battle. But she knew she had to get closer. She was too far away to help without getting closer to the bodies. Sera tried turning back, and even that made her taste bile at the bottom of her throat. If she was going to help, she would have to suffer something even worse.

"Drive them from your mind. Think of those who yet live, those I presume you would protect."

After a few deep breaths, Sera sprinted towards the inn. A quick glance at the area told her everything she needed to know. There were arrows everywhere, two goblins with bows and one riding...was that a goblin dog? That one was probably the "king", but to deal with him they would have to take care of his "bishops" first. To that end, Sera sent one the same delusion she'd tried on the warchanter earlier. Goblins' minds were too simplistic, primal and borderline insane to put up much resistance against any influence--like a pleasant, distracting daydream.



Round 1: Sera runs to I13.
Round 2: Sera moves to O13 and casts Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze) on G4. (DC15 WIL to negate)



Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (1 hour, on herself): 587/600 rounds

[LordHavelock]

As Aurelius and Clive dispatch yet more of the Goblin Sergeant’s minions, the tide quickly begins to turn. Seeing the Paladin of Abadar side by side with the tower-shielded Aasimar is intimidating enough without Cyarra’s brazen disregard for apparent danger or blows as she moves to engage the shortbow armed goblin, Aurelius seizing the opportunity to cut down the previously boisterous goblin, cutting short his celebration of landing a blow against Cyarra. Zelgiel’s arrow meanwhile flies true, embedding itself in the haggard leather armor of the goblin’s sergeant, though it is apparently padded enough to prevent a lethal strike, but certainly gives him reason to spur his rodent-steed around to where what few of his remaining troops can shield him. The arrow he looses in return is not so lucky, as it glances harmlessly off of Aurelius’s chain mail leaving little more than a bruise.

Meanwhile, Izzy’s caustic spell impacts Clive’s intended target at nearly the same moment, the goblin dying in a fizzle of sudden bullet-born trauma and seared flesh, in a display as spectacularly gory as it is disheartening for the only remaining unengaged goblin with his shortbow. Whether this makes him all the more vulnerable to the happy-dreams and visions to which Sera’s spell carries him or not, his eyes glaze over and he very nearly drops his bow at the momentary distraction, enough to keep him from knocking another arrow or even aiming his bow.

Lucas remains still, though the lingering light of Desna’s healing fortune wreath the wounds he has taken from several of the arrows, and without the trio of bow armed goblins to keep them pinned, the two remaining watchmen begin to peer over the parapets of the north gate and marvel at the efforts of the heroes who have come as their reinforcements.

Aurelius kills Goblin 2
Zegiel hits the Goblin Commando for 1 damage (Sergeant)
Goblin 1 hits Cyarra with AoO for 2 damage
Cyarra misses Goblin 3
Clive kills Goblin 1
Sera Dazes Goblin 4

Goblin 4 is Dazed
Goblin Commando (Sergeant) moves to Y 16 and misses Aurelius with Shortbow



http://i.imgur.com/RerZxpw.png

[Koryander]

Cyarra's bastard sword strikes the floor as she misses the cheeky little goblin, glaring up at it with her eyes clearly visible now. She gives it a brutally intense stare as she swings her weapon back up, not giving it even a inch of quarter as she goes in for another shot.

"I can do this all day, you green pyromaniac! It'll be me or one of my fellows here, so just make it quick for yourself!"

An extremely quick post! Not much RP to be given here besides trying to murder it again! Cy doesn't move anywhere since G3 decided to stay put. Going to attack it.
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

If it dies, Cyarra will make her way towards G4. If Aurelius kills it before the round is over, since this is a universal round for all players, Cy will instead make her way for the Captain, moving to X16



Female Archon-Blooded Aasimar (Lawbringers) Fighter (Tower Shield Specialist) 1LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 21, touch 12, flat-footed 19 (+5 armor, +4 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 10/13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +1
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee bastard sword +3 (1d10+4/19-20)
Aasimar Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
. . 1/day—weapon of awe (DC 13)

[King Tius]

Seeing an opportunity to attack the leader, Aurelius points his sword at the goblin commando and calls upon his holy writ. "By all that is good and holy, by the power of mighty Abadar, I will take you down!" His whole body begins to glow faintly with a golden radiance that extends out to the tip of his sword. His focus is laser-like as he brings his sword back into a readied position and runs straight at the goblin and its mount.


Swift Action: Smite Evil on Goblin Commando (+2 to AC vs GC)
Full Round Action: Charge attack vs Goblin Commando (-2 to AC from Charge)
Attack: [roll0] (+8 Hero Point, +2 charge, +2 Smite Evil, -1 Power Attack)
Damage: [roll1] (+1 Smite Evil, +3 Power Attack)


Aurelius Stormscale (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=874867)
Male LG Human Paladin, Level 1, Init +3, HP 13/13, DR -, Speed 20 ft
AC 16 (18 vs GC), Touch 10 (12), Flat-footed 14 (16), CMD 17, Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +3, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 1
(Power Attack) Longsword (Two-Hands) +5(+4) (1d8+7(+10), 19-20/x2)
Chainmail (+6 Armor, +1 Dex)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
Condition -2 to AC due to Charge

[Melquiades]

As Clive finished putting another bullet on his weapon, his eyes widened after seeing Aurelius' brilliant display of courage and strenght. If that goblin is alive after that, we're in trouble...

This is the last shot you fire today, Clive. It doesn't matter what happens, after this you go and help your son.

And so he did, hoping to end the conflict as fast as possible, and deep down, wishing that he son could have seen all that he did today.

5-ft step to N15
Move Action: Reload
Standard Action: Shoot G4.
Attack: [roll0] (+4Dex, +1BAB)
Damage: [roll1]

[Recherché]

Izzy sees the bloodbath going on in front of her and feels sick to her stomach. It's not that she's a stranger to blood or the inner workings of the humanoid body. However the priestess is used to it in the context of the sickbed not the battlefield. This, this is just sick. Izzy gives in to her body's demands and begins throwing up Ameiko's excellent booze on the blood and acid splattered ground.

Izzy vomits

[Askel]

HP: 10/10 AC: 16 (13 T, 13 FF, 17 CMD)
Fort: +3 Ref: +5 Will: +2 (Elven Immunities)
Ammunition: 11/20

Zelgiel kept his eyes on the target. Izzy was vomiting behind him, but he didn't allow himself to be distracted. No goblins were paying them any mind, for the moment, distracted as they were by the large knight and the ferocious woman.

Damn thing... See if you can ignore... this.

Zelgiel fired another arrow, this time taking aim at the beast the sergeant was riding upon.

Attack Goblin Command's Mount
1d20+4]
[roll0]

[Feather Sigil]

Through sword and bullet, arrow and acid, goblin after goblin perished around her. With each breath the smell of burning flesh filled her lungs; Sera choked on it, falling to her knees. Thinking about saving the others did nothing to stop the memory of the man she killed forcing its way into her thoughts for then, as now, safety was purchased with death. Coughing and sputtering, her stomach churning and her throat seared, she might have collapsed right there, but then she saw Mr. Stormscale invoke Abadar and strike down the goblin leader, glowing with what had to be holy light. She'd seen her mother perform similar feats in the past, the most recent a couple of years ago. She'd moved to their estate in Galduria in preparation for her studies at Twilight Academy, and her parents accompanied her. A brawl had broken out in the streets near the Academy, she didn't remember why, but she clearly remembered Mother calling to Iomedae and shining brilliantly. Though the fighters had drawn blades, Mother kept her longsword sheathed, dispatching them all with only her fists, which were twin suns of golden light.

That memory stirred something in Sera, cutting through her revulsion, sadness and fear. Rising on shaky knees, she staggered over to Ms. Maewood and summoned enough strength to send a daydream into the goblin dog's mind before falling again. Behind her, she saw Ms. Meresis throwing up and couldn't help but sympathize. It was miraculous she hadn't already done the same.



Sera moves to U14 and casts Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze) on the goblin dog. (DC15 WIL to negate)



Lady Seraphina Cieluce (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=463810)

Aspect: "Former Noble, Seeker of Forgotten Magics"

Trouble: "Prey in a World Full of Predators"

Female NG (leans LG) Human (Chelaxian) Witch, Level 1, Init +2, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 11, Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0, Dark Gifts 2
Dagger -1 (1d4-1, 19-20/x2)
Sling (20) +2 (1d4-1, x2)
Shadow Armour (+4 Armour, +2 DEX, +4 Cover)
Ability Scores Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 14
Conditions

Luna
Unknown Gender Unknown Alignment Tiny Raven Familiar, Level 1, Init +2, HP 4/4, Speed 10 / 40 (flight)
AC 15, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 6, Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +4
CMB -6, Base Attack Bonus 0
Bite +4 (1d3-4, x2)
Ability Scores Str 2, Dex 15, Con 8, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 7
Special Abilities
-Low-light vision
Conditions
Spells Prepared

-L0- (unlimited casting)
Detect Magic (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/detect-magic)
Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze)
Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance)

-L1-
Dream of the Giant (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/enlarge-person)
Shadowsnare (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/w/web-bolt)
Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor)

Durations

Shadow Armour (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/m/mage-armor) (on herself, 1 hour): 586/600 rounds

Immunities

G4 (Daydream, 1 minute): 9/10 rounds

[LordHavelock]

Cyarra’s bastard sword fells the bow armed goblin before her with grisly ease, chopping through the flimsy wood as easily as it’s green flesh, leaving no opposition between her allies and the goblin’s sergeant, who, much beleaguered by the onslaught of Sandpoint’s new defenders, can only stand stark still and stare. Aurelius is there to seize the moment, charging forward headlong and bringing his sword around in a wide and deadly arc before the hapless gobbo is even able to raise any kind of defense, and finds himself cleft in twain at the waste, dead before his upper half can even hit the ground, a look of pure shock written across his features. Suddenly free of it’s rider and now facing down an imposing foe, the goblin dog begins to flee, only to find Sera’s cunning enchantment freezing it in place for Zelgiel’s arrow to fell the irksome creature once and for all. The remaining goblin ducks low as Clive’s bullet passes by over head, throwing his arms up to cover himself, and simultaneously dropping it’s weapon.

When next the lone remaining gobbo raises it’s eyes all the remaining members of the raiding party lie dead around it, including their leader, and as the song of the warchanter has also gone silent, he is suddenly filled with simultaneous dread and despair as the various longshanks close in around him. “Surrender! Surrender! Just don’t take my name or loose your biters or stompers!” He cries out in broken common, not even bothering to retrieve his weapon.

Indeed, it appears that from the sound echoing up from down-town, the goblins have been killed, driven off or captured, and an eerie quiet settles over the scene.

Cyarra kills Goblin 3
Aurelius kills the Goblin Commando (Sergeant)
Zelgiel kills the Goblin Dog

Goblin 4 surrenders

[Recherché]

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven Breath in. Hold it. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven Let it go. Breath out. Let the breath take your fears.

Okay, the immediate fight is over, it's time for you to get off your ass and get to work

Izzy vaguely wishes she had something anything to wash the taste of sick out of her mouth. But that comes later, priority right now is triage; deal with the most wounded people first. Then you can get something to drink. Then you can look for better supplies. Then you can worry about everything else.

If anyone wants I can probably translate for the prisoner better than he can speak Taldane later. Right now can someone go to Father Zantus and ask him if I can borrow a healer's kit. Or I could go myself in a few minutes.

Izzy lets her mind blank and the training take over. She looks around to see who's the worst hurt and will patch them up with a Cure Light. After that she'll get everyone who's still walking to get together so she can channel to heal as many as she can at once and then once she's out of magical power get to the dirty business of stitching everyone up the old fashioned way.

[Koryander]

As the poor goblin begged for its life, Cyarra's heart churned inside her chest. She raised her sword... and... she raised it and...


Rising on shaky knees, she staggered over to Ms. Maewood and summoned enough strength to send a daydream into the goblin dog's mind before falling again. Behind her, she saw Ms. Meresis throwing up and couldn't help but sympathize. It was miraculous she hadn't already done the same.


Cyarra turned, and looked Sera in the eyes, she then looked backwards. Poor Izzy, throwing up at the chaos that had befallen the festival... She glanced around, struck by the destruction all around them... her eyes moved to Clive, Zelgiel, Aurelius... back to poor Izabetta, then to the mysterious raven haired girl whose name she didn't even know yet. She protectively stood in front of her, but Cyarra felt more like a butcher now then a protector. She gave Sera a look that laid all of the Aasimar's guilt before the raven haired woman, a look that smoldered 'Now you know my face'... and maybe even more, Cyarra couldn't be sure. Her fingers fumbled as she dropped her sword to the ground clumsily, hardly acting of the defender she wanted so desperately to be.

Violence breeds violence, Cyarra. Let the sword lie, attend to the others.

Almost as if it were a security blanket Cyarra placed her hood back over her head. Her face just moments before obscenely showing her bright orange eyes, and bright orange runes upon her face, it was now just showing the black shadow of the hood.

"I will not be the one to harm you, goblin."

Cyarra turned back towards the goblin, there was no doubt in her mind that no matter what she did, the little thing would simply see a looming, 6'2" figure ready to trounce it.

"But I can't promise the same for the others."

Cyarra looked over to Izabetta, frowning in guilt as she still looked somewhat sick to the stomach.

"You were very brave today, both of you."

Her eyes moved back to Sera, trying to give a comforting smile through the blackness of her cowl.

"I'll grab us a healers kit in a moment, I want to first make sure all six of us are accounted for."

[King Tius]

This last fight happened in such a blur that Aurelius still has his sword raised when the goblin surrenders. He looks about rapidly, his feet still pumping in small steps as he spins, looking for more enemies. When things look clear his sword arm drops, the blade of his longsword making a clanging sound as it glances off of a stray dogslicer. The young man leans back, pointing his head towards the sky as he lets out a shout of triumph, half triumphant relief, half bestial howl of youthful exuberance. His chest still heaving from the effort of running in his armor, he keeps his sword out, dripping with goblin blood, as he walks towards the goblin begging for mercy. The smile on his face fades as he realizes the task at hand. Looking toward Izzy, he nods grimly and addresses her. "A translator will not be necessary, Miss."

Turning his attention back towards the goblin, he uses his boot to kick the creature onto its back before putting his foot on its chest. He puts enough weight on it to keep the goblin pinned but doesn't try to crush it.

"Do you understand me, goblin? Why did you attack this town? Who is your leader?"

[Askel]

Zelgiel had another arrow ready as he scanned the square, looking down each road visible to him. When it became obvious that the threat had passed, he slowly put the arrow back in his quiver and lowered his bow.

I should gather up some arrows to replace the ones I lost, Zelgiel thought to himself, Maybe later. I've had enough for now.


If anyone wants I can probably translate for the prisoner better than he can speak Taldane later. Right now can someone go to Father Zantus and ask him if I can borrow a healer's kit. Or I could go myself in a few minutes.

"Count me out of that," Zelgiel replied, unable to resist including a bit of snark in his tone, "I have a reputation to live up to, remember?"

Zelgiel shook his head, the feelings of shame and resentment welling up in him all over again as Father Zantus's words echoed in his memory. He nodded once to Boonie, who he assumed would take this opportunity to see to his son, then started walking towards the fallen watchmen. He knelt beside the closer of the two.

Could I have saved them?

His jaw was clenched firmly, his expression stony, as he checked on his fallen comrade. Zelgiel slowly, hesitantly, hands trembling, felt for a pulse.

Not sure if I need a heal check or not to check if the soldier's alive, but I assume taking 10 for 12 would be enough to cover that? If not:
[roll0]

[Koryander]

Cyarra looked away from the goblin third degree. Answers were needed, that Cyarra absolutely agreed with. But she had already unleashed her fair share of over-the-top brutality that day, and she felt awful for it as is. She kneeled down to pick up her sword, then looked up to Izzy in concern. Cyarra sheathed her weapon and placed her shield upon her back.

Cyarra, still keeping in time, still reflexively making sure she stood in front of Sera in a protective way, strode over to Izzy to speak with her.

Oh sure, Combat is still over and you're blocking the poor Raven-Haired woman like some sort of bodyguard. The fighting is done, you don't need to be creepy anymore Cyarra.

Letting out a long, shaken sigh, she allowed herself to finally drift down from her combat high... Cyarra's shoulders visibly slumped somewhat as she eased off the trigger of her stress. She looked to Izzy and finally spoke.

"It was hard for you at the end there, are you alright?"

She took Izzy's hand in concern, "If you're not up for this, I'll get the medical kits right now and we'll try to patch people up the old fashioned way."

Cyarra could only give Izzy the most comforting look she could muster.. for all it was worth at least. It wasn't the vomit... Cyarra has had worse things caked onto her armor in the thick of combat. No, it was the face, that look of someone's first time in the thick of it. Cyarra was only twenty four, she could remember her first combat like it was yesterday... that fear and trauma was something unforgettable.

"The job of the healer is never easy. If it will help you to have someone with, I will go with you as you make your rounds."

Cyarra looked to Sera, frowning somewhat, looking guilty for even considering leaving her side. "I... I mean, we all could go. If that's okay."

[LordHavelock]

One of the fallen watchmen appears to have exsanguinated, multiple cuts and lacerations crisscrossing his body, none of which are terribly deep, but the combined trauma and blood loss having taken enough of a toll on the poor man to end his life. The other two in the square remain breathing, barely conscious and with a bit of luck, Zelgiel is able to staunch the bleeding of a vicious wound the younger of the two (barely more than a boy) has suffered along his leg. Izzy observes that a fraction of an inch more would likely have ended his life a minute or two ago, and the final victim, remains in great pain, with an arrow protruding clear through his shoulder. The remaining two watchmen descend from the parapets of the North Gate and immediately look to Zelgiel, the only other member of the watch on the scene. "Glad you and your friends here came along when you did, Zel." remarks one of them, "Don't know how much longer we could have held out before they thought to start burning everything down, and you surely saved the life of young Nibbs there." he gestures to the young lad, pale from loss of blood. Izzy's spells make all the difference in saving the lives of the man with the arrow, mending and cleansing the wound once the arrow has been removed, allowing a look of blessed relief to cross his features. "Thank you milady, and praise be to Desna."

The only other conscious person in the square, now strides out from behind the barrels he had been cowering behind, soothing his horse and leading it over towards the assembly of his saviors wide-eyed and with profound wonder in his eyes. "You did it! You saved my life, and the lives of everyone at the Inn! They were talking about burning the whole place to the ground and you . . ." The man pauses, managing to calm down his tone a bit and brushing some of the dust off his rather fine clothes, resumes a smile of the utmost charm and grace, "Please, My name is Aldern Foxglove, of Magnimar, I can't thank you all enough," He nods in turn to Izzy and to Zelgiel, before regarding the others in turn, the armored and imposing Aurelius, the now cloaked and foreboding Cyarra, and . . .

The man's eyes go a tad wider, as he unconsciously hands the reins of his steed over to Zelgiel, "Please, use my horse, get your wounded to safety." he mutters absentmindedly, as he crosses the square, approaching his final rescuer as if in a daze. "My lady, please," He says, speaking to Sera in a tone of mixed awe and reverence, "You must allow me the honor of your name, that I might properly thank you for saving myself and those here."



The goblin that Aurelius is in the midst of "interrogating" meanwhile, gives a most atrocious squeal as his boot comes to rest on it's chest and torso. "NOOO! No squash! Longshanks! LONGSHANKS!!!"

[Askel]

"Glad you and your friends here came along when you did, Zel." remarks one of them, "Don't know how much longer we could have held out before they thought to start burning everything down, and you surely saved the life of young Nibbs there."

At the appearance of other comrades, Zelgiel's entire demeanor changed. His face lit up into a cocky, boyish grin; his posture relaxed, and even his voice had somehow lost some of its earlier edge.

"Hey, boys, it's good to see you alive!" the half-elf laughed, clapping each of them on a shoulder, "But you can go tell Belor what a hero I am, if you'd like, while I get a free drink out of the barkeep!"

His amused tone and easy smile belied the look in his eyes of genuine relief that they were unharmed and satisfaction in a job well done.


"You did it! You saved my life, and the lives of everyone at the Inn! They were talking about burning the whole place to the ground and you . . ." The man pauses, managing to calm down his tone a bit and brushing some of the dust off his rather fine clothes, resumes a smile of the utmost charm and grace, "Please, My name is Aldern Foxglove, of Magnimar, I can't thank you all enough,"

Zelgiel turned to face the exuberant noble in surprise.

Oh... It was our pleasure. I'm-"


The man's eyes go a tad wider, as he unconsciously hands the reins of his steed over to Zelgiel, "Please, use my horse, get your wounded to safety." he mutters absentmindedly, as he crosses the square, approaching his final rescuer as if in a daze. "My lady, please," He says, speaking to Sera in a tone of mixed awe and reverence, "You must allow me the honor of your name, that I might properly thank you for saving myself and those here."

Zelgiel's mouth worked for a moment as he took the reins from this "Aldern Foxglove", watching as the man moved over to the mysterious spellcasting woman.

"Right..." Zelgiel muttered.

[Recherché]

Letting out a long, shaken sigh, she allowed herself to finally drift down from her combat high... Cyarra's shoulders visibly slumped somewhat as she eased off the trigger of her stress. She looked to Izzy and finally spoke.

"It was hard for you at the end there, are you alright?"


I don't know. I mean physically I'm fine; that should be enough shouldn't it? And its not like this is the first time I've seen blood by a longshot . . .

The priestess chews on her lips while she waits for her heartbeat to slow down and for the world to make sense once again.

It's just, I don't know. I guess its that I'm not usually that close to violence and that-

Izzy gestures with her shoulder to the body of the creature she and the gunslinger had killed.

-that was the first time I've ever attacked anything sentient. I know that they were attacking us. I know that they killed. But still, they could speak. They had mother's and families.

Her shoulders slump and Izzy won't meet the Aasimar's eyes

And now they don't. And its my fault. I should have been able to do something, except I'm not a warrior or an adventurer. I'm just Izzy. And right now I'm not sure who that is . . . Sorry I'm rambling at you. I should get back to work.



"The job of the healer is never easy. If it will help you to have someone with, I will go with you as you make your rounds."

Cyarra looked to Sera, frowning somewhat, looking guilty for even considering leaving her side. "I... I mean, we all could go. If that's okay."

I could always use another set of hands. Do you have a stick that I could use? I need something to twist the tourniquet into. And probably someone to hold him down while I work. This is going to be painful.

Izzy gestures at the young man with the would on his leg as she tears up his clothing into strips.

He's not going to die, if I have anything to do with it but I'm not sure I can save his leg.

[Melquiades]

"I will not be the one to harm you, goblin."

Cyarra turned back towards the goblin, there was no doubt in her mind that no matter what she did, the little thing would simply see a looming, 6'2" figure ready to trounce it.

"But I can't promise the same for the others."


Clive approaches the goblin begging for his life with a curious look on his face. Oh, so he could talk now. Killing this... animal won't bring back those they wounded and murdered today... But it might make me feel better, he thought, as he started to lift his musket above his waist with just one hand. It was an easy shot, a close target that wasn't moving. But then... maybe we have shed enough blood for today.

"Don't worry about me... Cyarra, right? There's no need to make our city even dirtier by spilling more blood."

And then, everything went blank for a few moments. His head was dizzy, his body aching, and the voices around him were barely noticed by Clive. He had a vague notion of what happened, and nobody seemed to pay much attention to the old man. Zelgiel was congratulated, yeah, he did deserve some honors. A nobleman from Magnimar? Ok, he could think about that later... Something was missing... what was he forgett...


"...thing to do with it but I'm not sure I can save his leg."

"Lucas!"

Stupid, stupid old man!, Clive thought as he started running towards the inn. Seeing the young lady who had just vomited in battle trying to heal the wounded, he grabbed her by the arm along the way, and started spitting the words "My-son-you-gotta-help-him-please-I-should-have-tried-to-get-there-earlier-please-it's-urgent-it's-my-fault..."

If anyone was looking at him, there were obviously tears in his eyes, begging to come out. It was as if he had just awakened from some kind of trance after there were no more enemies. His breathing was heavy, and suddenly he looked like the 62 year old man he really was, and not some bold adventurer with a cocky smile.

Izzy could feel that his hands were trembling.

[Feather Sigil]

After the din of battle disappeared, Sera rose to her feet and stood where she was, a hollow stare in her eyes that looked at nothing in particular. She trembled, breathing with shuddering breaths; she would have sworn her throat was bleeding from the acid in the air, but it was just as likely to be the scent of the pooling blood all around her. She half expected to hear a group of guards or that priest to arrive informing them of still more goblins to be slain, but no one came. It was over, it seemed. They didn't need her anymore, she had no knowledge of healing, nothing stopped her from doing the only thing she wanted now: running into the inn and forgetting about all that had just happened, but her legs would not move. All the death and violence she'd witnessed, including the man she killed, filled her thoughts.

An additional unpleasantness shook her from her stupor, in the form of a single terrible word: Magnimar. As it turned out, its speaker was not here to capture her; he didn't even appear to recognize her. No Scarnetti, no military man, just a cordial and handsome fellow overjoyed that he was now safe. His manner and clothes suggested upper class if not nobility, but she could barely recall the name Foxglove. They were a minor house with no noteworthy characteristics, positive or negative, to speak of. Sera didn't believe she'd ever met him or any of his kin; perhaps she was introduced to one of them once and forgot. Strangely, he wore no jewelry--and, sadly, neither did she, but she could if she wanted to and had a sensible reason for keeping hers hidden. Did he prefer to travel light? Did he fear theft? Or, more simply, was he unable to afford a noble's proper finery?

"My lady, please, you must allow me the honor of your name, that I might properly thank you for saving myself and those here."

Suddenly he was in front of her, and Sera remembered just how filthy she looked. Straightening herself into a more dignified posture, she tried to wipe the blood off of her face as daintily as best she could--not that that would go away completely or do anything for her hair, oh goodness how she needed a bath--and smiled at Mr. Foxglove. It occurred to her that responding to him in the proper way might give the others the impression of her social standing, but they had no proof--and with her own lack of finery she looked nothing like she ought to. At least this was normal, civilized behaviour. At least it was something to focus on other than death.

"I must apologize that you would find me wearing such unseemly decor, Mr. Foxglove--blame the goblins. Please call me Rose, and I appreciate the thought but you owe me no thanks. These valiant souls..." She gestured to each of the others, and the watchmen, with a sweep of her arm. "...are the true--" She nearly jumped at the sound of the remaining goblin squealing for its life right behind her. "Please excuse me a moment." Turning around, Sera addressed both the goblin and Mr. Stormscale. She might have sympathized with the goblin, trapped underfoot by an imposing assailant, for she knew what such helplessness was like, but unlike her, this creature deserved it. Nevertheless, there was no point in terrifying it; the deaths of its kin was surely enough."He's not going to hurt you, none of us are. Simply tell us what you know. There's no need, Mr. Stormscale; we've already won, you might as well go easy on him." Back to Mr. Foxglove. "Where was I? Yes, they and the watch deserve all the credit. I merely assisted them a little."

[Koryander]

Cyarra peers at Aldern Foxglove curiously, pulling back her cloak just enough to get a better view at the fellow. He was... charming, that's for sure. If her nerves weren't so shot with the recent attack she might have fawned a little... but despite the charm Aldern was oozing, he was still getting over the aftershocks of being scared, that much was obvious. It seemed a common theme with everyone here... dust themselves off, pretend things are great. No worse for the wear. Still, there was no real harm in this and he didn't seem to have any ill will towards "Rose", Cyarra was simply being over-protective of her current charge.

"I'm just as impressed with her as you are, Mr... Foxglove, was it?"

The only thing that lingered Aldern's face and mannerisms, besides him trying to cover up the fear of the now-defunct goblin situation and general appreciation of his rescue, was the one thing Cyarra often sensed on most men... it was the distinct sound of his charming libido working into his speech, and making its way towards miss Rose. It seems Aldern was half speaking out of kindness and genuine hero worship, and half with his penis.

"She's a hero, and probably deserves the hard days rest of a hero." Cyarra said cautiously, kindly even, but emphasizing hero and rest. She gave the noble a genuine smile regardless, nodding.

"For what its worth, I'm glad your safe, and I'm glad we made it here in time.

Cyarra readjusts her cowl, allowing the dark shadow to re-settle over her features. Ultimately she felt the man was harmless, so long as he didn't try to force himself upon Rose. That didn't quite seem to be his personality, at least not as far as Cyarra could tell.

"My-son-you-gotta-help-him-please-I-should-have-tried-to-get-there-earlier-please-it's-urgent-it's-my-fault..."

The Aasimar looked back towards Clive and Izzy, frowning... the poor kid, she had forgotten. Her attention turned back to Rose, gently taking her hand for a moment.

"Hey, I'm probably going to go check on the kid with them. Are... are you going to be okay Miss... Rose? I can stay and... you know."

'And you know... what, Cy? Why DO you need to loom over her now that the goblins are done with their attack?'

"You know... watch things."

Pfft. Okay.

[Recherché]

Clive thought as he started running towards the inn. Seeing the young lady who had just vomited in battle trying to heal the wounded, he grabbed her by the arm along the way, and started spitting the words "My-son-you-gotta-help-him-please-I-should-have-tried-to-get-there-earlier-please-it's-urgent-it's-my-fault..."

If anyone was looking at him, there were obviously tears in his eyes, begging to come out. It was as if he had just awakened from some kind of trance after there were no more enemies. His breathing was heavy, and suddenly he looked like the 62 year old man he really was, and not some bold adventurer with a cocky smile.

Izzy could feel that his hands were trembling.

Izzy removes her hand briefly to finish tying the tournequet then starts loping off to get to Lucas as quickly as possible while yelling to the others in the square.

Yell for me if the condition of the one I just tended to changes at all!

continuing to take 10 on heal rolls for 18

[King Tius]

Aurelius presses his foot down harder, his voice slowly rising in his frustration and impatience. "Longshanks? Who is Longshanks? How did you get in to the town? Where did you come from? Why were you here? Give me answers, goblin, or I'll write your name on every wall in this town and sic the dogs on you!"

[Recherché]

You do realize that "longshank" is the literal translation of the goblin word for human. Well to be more exact anything that's roughly human sized and shaped, elves and orcs also wualify as longshanks. They just said that someone non-goblin set them too this.

Whoever they are they probably also organized it and provided transportation. I suspect that someone meant the goblins as a distraction; releasing them the way they did at the festival all but guaranteed that the entire town was caught up in the chaos leaving our mastermind to do something else in peace and quiet. Or at least that's my theory.

Izzy pants out as she runs to her next patient.

I knew I should have translated, but no, the wounded need you first. You can deal with the prisoner later.

[LordHavelock]

"Mademoiselle Rose, you are too humble." Aldern says in response to Sera's deference to the watch and her companions, bowing graciously if informally as he speaks. It is impossible for him to ignore Clive's sudden distress however, as he and Izzy rush into the White Deer Inn and up towards the second floor, followed by Cyarra's somewhat stilted attempt to intervene on "Rose's" behalf. "Miss Rose, such a lovely name, I wouldn't accept anything less than the chance to repay you, your . . . escort," He nods briefly towards Cyarra, "and all your companions, the saviors of Sandpoint, with whatever hospitality I can offer!" He concludes with a sweeping gesture to include Zelgiel and Aurelius now also.

Returning his full attention to "Rose" he extends his hand in a most gentlemanly gesture and smiles, now seemingly much more softly and genuine than his previous boisterous manner. "You may call on me any time, at the Rusty Dragon Inn, and I would love to invite you . . . and your friends," he gestures once more and resumes his previous tone, "To enjoy with me the chance to hunt in the hinterlands! The boars of this region make for excellent sport, I assure you." With another elaborate bow, he smiles and begins to make his way out of the square, glancing back over his shoulder one last time at "Rose".



Izzy and Clive meanwhile blow through the crowd of wary citizens huddled around the windows of the White Deer Inn, some of them clutching improvised weapons to defend themselves, ignoring a few hurried questions as to the goblins, whether it's safe, and make their way to the second floor balcony, where even now, two men are dragging Lucas in from the balcony. One of them, a grim and somber looking Shoanti man, looks plaintively at Izzy and quickly orders Lucas set down on a bench nearby, "You're the priestess? The one who called the healing light down on the square? Damned if you didn't give this boy a fighting chance, he must have felled a half dozen goblins, but for every three he fired the little blighters managed to hit him in return. The wounds have healed halfway, stopped him from bleeding out, but I doubt I've seen a man in worse shape." He speaks very quickly, in a low, hushed tone, and then is silent, as though the effort to say so much has drained him of words. Silently, he reaches down and proffers to Izzabetta, a fully stocked medicine chest, full of herbs and poultices and various mundane reagents.

It's true, Lucas is in a bad way, with no less than four goblin arrows feathering his body, it's a wonder he was able to continue firing back after the first three, but the last one apparently caught him in the ribs, and can be seen protruding from either side.


Foxglove departs down towards the lower portion of town.
Lucas is stable with Negative Hit Points; A DC20 Heal check required to treat his Deadly Wounds. Check requires an hour, and a result of 25 or higher allows you to add your Wisdom Modifier to the amount of hitpoints restores (1/HP per level of subject).
Alternatively, if you have any uses of Channel Energy or Cure Light Wounds left, you may use those.

[Feather Sigil]

Though she politely curtseyed as he went on his way, Sera dropped her smile with a sigh the moment Mr. Foxglove was out of sight. There was something odd about him, and not just because of his incomplete appearance. High society decorum involved a degree of exaggeration, but his manner seemed more a performance than anything truly natural, what with the way he shifted between ostentatious joviality and gentlemanly poise. Was his family truly nobility? They were so beneath notice she couldn't say for sure. Was he simply so overjoyed to be spared a goblin's blade that he lost a little self-control for it? But then why take so great an interest in her? He barely acknowledged anyone else. Ms. Meresis felt a need to praise her beauty in the midst of battle; was he just as taken by her? Really, I know I'm beautiful but I look like a farmhand right now. Then there was the way he said 'Such a lovely name'. Was it possible he knew who she really was and sympathized with her plight? The odds of that were far too slim. Whatever his motives, she absolutely would not meet him in the Rusty Dragon, let alone go hunting with him. She'd already had enough of watching other people kill, and had chosen to stay at the White Deer specifically because it wasn't an infamous gathering of travelers and adventurers; every person who walked through that tavern's doors probably knew about her and her bounty. Even Luna, judging by her feelings, didn't know what to think of him.

Apparently Ms. Maewood felt suspicious of him as well, unless that protective drive of hers was truly so strong she couldn't suspend it for anyone else's sake. "Please, go on, Ms. Maewood. I believe I will be fine...at least after I have a very long bath. And thank you very much for trying...for keeping me safe. I won't forget it." ...But I'm not a hero. Oh, yes, that reminds me... "Oh, and please call me Rose, Ms. Maewood. Now we've been properly introduced, it was a pleasure meeting you. Shall we to the inn?" With that Sera walked over to it, making sure not to step anywhere near the corpses--and yet as she passed them, the terror and revulsion she'd experienced before felt distant now. Whether she was simply used to these bodies or was getting accustomed to seeing corpses in general, Sera couldn't say, and she welcomed neither possibility.

[Melquiades]

While Izzy examines his son's body, Clive kneels before his body. It was a million times worse than arguing with him at the square. Seeing Lucas so vulnerable actually made he miss his son's ire. He would prefer another lifetime away from him if the option was seeing his suffering.

"He... he... saved all these people, y'know? If what they say is true, he killed more goblins than any of us. They would have entered the inn before we got here if it wasn't for him.", the old man said to Izabetta, but it might as well have been anyone else close enough to hear him. "I've... raised him well..."

No, you didn't. Adele did. And himself. He left home before he was a full-grown man. You threw him out of his own home.

"I know...", he started to say something, but his voice broke. As much as he didn't want to get in the way of that kind lady doing her work, Clive couldn't resist the urge to stand by Lucas' side and caress his hair. Blonde hair, just like his mom's. And eyes... beautiful eyes that were closed now. "Please, lady. I'll give you anything you want if you can make him better."

And then it was there. Better, it never left, it was just stronger now. His mouth was dryer than a desert, and the feeling that he wouldn't get through this day alive without drinking. Deep down, he knew that wasn't true, but truth is relative when it comes down to feelings.

"Can someople please fetch me a beer?", he mumbled the words, his face red not because of the alcohol -- that would come later -- but with shame. Without any response, he tried again, this time louder.

"A beer, please! This is my son, for god's sake!"

And then he sat by the side of the bench, drinking slowly, his eyes wandering to the work that Izzy's hands were doing, waiting for Lucas to wake up, somehow. Drinking, the exact same thing that made his relationship with his son what it was today.

How ironic... or how appropriate...

[Koryander]

"Please, go on, Ms. Maewood. I believe I will be fine...at least after I have a very long bath. And thank you very much for trying...for keeping me safe. I won't forget it."

Cyarra slowly nodded to Rose, smiling as best she could and holding Rose's shoulder gently. "Alright, just... be careful with him. He seems to be more interested in what's under your dress than how you helped save the day... Call it a hunch."

She was a nice girl, this Rose... she deserved a break. A break from this insanity, and certainly a break from Cyarra.


"Oh, and please call me Rose, Ms. Maewood. Now we've been properly introduced, it was a pleasure meeting you. Shall we to the inn?"

Though her heart told her that Rose wasn't safe, her mind finally, finally forced those feelings down into the pit of her stomach. Still, overcoming those feelings was not enough for Cyarra to allow Rose to leave just yet, Cyarra took both of Rose's shoulders... gently, of course, but both shoulders none the less. She gave the poor girl a genuine look of concern and care.

"If you have... other problems."Cyarra said, in a almost knowing way. "Any other problems, You come find me alright? I promise you with all that I can muster that you can trust me. No matter what it is or what problems you may have... I'll help you."

And then you learn that the sweet, pretty raven haired girl is actually a lich, and she wants to kill everyone in town! Right now she's just biding her time... And you just swore that you would help her.

Cyarra mentally bitchslapped her sarcasm, right in the face.

"I will join you soon, Rose. I would hate myself forever if I didn't help that poor man's son. This isn't my first time in a situation like this, maybe I can help them identify wounds or whatever... anything I can do to help, right?"

She gave her one last smile.

"Just take care. And don't be pressured by that Foxglove fellow! Unless you're into that kind of slick-backed-hair, horn-doged mannerism kind of..."

Cyarra coughed. She was preaching.

"... Nevermind. Just... I'll see you later."

She left Rose, finally, and began to pick up her pace. That poor kid, and here she was talking to someone who was clearly alive and well, while poor Lucas could have been dying.

The heavy thud of her armor accompanied the Aasimar as she barged into the room with Lucas and Izabetta, settling down near them and crouching down next to the small woman.

"Hey... I don't know if I can help, but I'm here, and I'll do what I can."

She looked up to Clive, watching him drink his beer, he could see his hands shaking, just ever so slightly. Her heart started to bleed for him, "Hey, I'm really sorry about your son. Maybe if I distracted them quicker, I could have saved him from some of the brutality."

And here comes the guilt, the guilt of not being their for everyone. The logical side of her brain reminded her how impossible that was... but the empathetic side, it was always their to remind her that she needed to go harder, go stronger.

It was torture.

"I'm sorry."



Her attentions turned back to Lucas and Izzy... But for a moment, Cyarra's eyes focused on Izzy's upper back, by her neck... and suddenly she was distracted. Some of Izzy's tattoo's were showing, And one caught her eye...

Is that... Celestial?

She began to gently speak out loud, reading the tattoo.

"With all patience and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, walk with humility under the directions of virtue"

Cyarra could only blink,

"That's... that's a nice poem." She said outloud, but then visibly blushed. Realizing she was blabbing all of that to everyone in the room!

"S-Sorry, I just... I was reading... I don't see written celestial much and..."

She quickly cleared her throat.

"Here, let me help... if I can..."




Cy's gonna try to aid with patching Lucas up!
Its only a 1. XD

[roll0]

I'm sure it wont actually matter, but I figure for flavor I should actually perform the action!!

[Askel]

Zelgiel saw everyone making for the White Deer Inn and watched longingly. Suddenly, inspiration struck him.

"I'd better make sure all of them are okay. That was some intense fighting, afterall,"[/b] Zelgiel commented as slyly as he could, "Here. Do as Lord Foxglove suggested with the horse, I'm going to help the heroes of Sandpoint."

The half-elf passed off the reins of the horse and started walking after the others. He paused as he passed his fallen comrade, however, taking one final moment to look on his friend's face. In elven, he murmured a simple farewell.

You were a proud warrior in life. Rest, friend, and feel the shade at last.

Satisfied, he looked away and did not look back as he entered the inn. Judging from the general attitude around him, he was being lumped in with the others. He could hear Clive and Izzy upstairs, and the warrior woman was nearby, too. The barkeep was understandably absent so, in their place...

A few moments later...

"Here, old man. First beer's on me," Zelgiel said, giving Clive his drink.

The half-elf had a second tankard, which he'd filled with whatever was on tap. That was for him, and he took a big gulp of it as he sunk into the closest seat he could find, sighing. Once seated and comfortable, Zelgiel contented himself with watching the others.

Only a matter of time before Belor shows up... I wouldn't want to have his responsibilities right now...

[Recherché]

"He... he... saved all these people, y'know? If what they say is true, he killed more goblins than any of us. They would have entered the inn before we got here if it wasn't for him.", the old man said to Izabetta, but it might as well have been anyone else close enough to hear him. "I've... raised him well..."

"I know...", he started to say something, but his voice broke. As much as he didn't want to get in the way of that kind lady doing her work, Clive couldn't resist the urge to stand by Lucas' side and caress his hair. Blonde hair, just like his mom's. And eyes... beautiful eyes that were closed now. "Please, lady. I'll give you anything you want if you can make him better."

No need to remind me of how useless I was. Anyways you don't owe me anything. I'm not going to let anyone die if I can help it.

Despite her brave words Izzy's mouth is dry with anxiety and exhaustion.

Calm down, you know how to do this. In theory. For some reason fevers and minor scrapes tend to come up more often than arrows piercing multiple vital organs. At least while unconscious he can't scream or struggle. Thank you for this one small blessing.

Izzy is well into her preparations when she finally notices The female warrior from before coming into the room and offering her assistance.



"Hey... I don't know if I can help, but I'm here, and I'll do what I can."

She looked up to Clive, watching him drink his beer, he could see his hands shaking, just ever so slightly. Her heart started to bleed for him, "Hey, I'm really sorry about your son. Maybe if I distracted them quicker, I could have saved him from some of the brutality."


I could have run here faster. I could have outrun you all and gotten to him a few seconds earlier than I did

Izzy's voice starts out low and rough. She turns her head not wanting to see either of her companion's expressions at her confession.

But then I would have arrived before anyone else who could have fought would have. I'd have been alone on the battlefield and I wasn't sure if I could survive that long enough to help anyone. So I slowed down. And it turned out mostly okay ... It is never given to us mortals to know what could have been. We have to accept the present we have and keep moving forward.



"I'm sorry."

Her attentions turned back to Lucas and Izzy... But for a moment, Cyarra's eyes focused on Izzy's upper back, by her neck... and suddenly she was distracted. Some of Izzy's tattoo's were showing, And one caught her eye...

Is that... Celestial?

She began to gently speak out loud, reading the tattoo.

"With all patience and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, walk with humility under the directions of virtue"

Cyarra could only blink,

"That's... that's a nice poem." She said outloud, but then visibly blushed. Realizing she was blabbing all of that to everyone in the room!

"S-Sorry, I just... I was reading... I don't see written celestial much and..."

She quickly cleared her throat.

"Here, let me help... if I can..."

Its not just a poem. The runes form a kind of pattern that I can channel power through so that I can get the best results on certain kinds of spells. It's not complete yet though. This design, it's very ancient. My tattoo artist didn't know what most of the writing meant and even I don't understand all of it. Anyways I can always do with an extra hand.

Izzy settles down to the long business of removing the arrows with Cy helping. When she finally gets them all out she pulls in one more burst of energy and then releases it, utterly spent but happy at seeing the wounds close up not just on Lucas but also on her nearby companions.

Heal: [roll0]
Using up my very last channel for [roll1] and I am now completely out of anything above cantrips

[Koryander]

No need to remind me of how useless I was. Anyways you don't owe me anything. I'm not going to let anyone die if I can help it.

Cyarra could only shake her head in response, taking an arrow off of Sera's hands and putting it down gently besides them.

"Nobody in our group was useless. And nobody unappreciated."


I could have run here faster. I could have outrun you all and gotten to him a few seconds earlier than I did

Izzy's voice starts out low and rough. She turns her head not wanting to see either of her companion's expressions at her confession.

But then I would have arrived before anyone else who could have fought would have. I'd have been alone on the battlefield and I wasn't sure if I could survive that long enough to help anyone. So I slowed down. And it turned out mostly okay ... It is never given to us mortals to know what could have been. We have to accept the present we have and keep moving forward.

Cyarra took another bloody arrow from Izzy's hands, sighing, "I think we're all feeling this way, myself included. My nerves are shot and... something is telling me I did not do enough, but I know that's almost impossible considering the fierce battle we've just had."

Upon hearing a shuffle into the room, Cyarra glances up and see's Zelgiel handing Clive that beer, she mock pouts,

"What, surgeons can't drink on the job? Where's mine?"

Her eyes moved back to the combat wounds Lucas suffered... Cyarra's eyes went cross-eyed looking at all that needed to be done, and she had NO idea what needed to be done. She continued to just take arrows as Izzy did the real work.

I'm a surgeon huh? Riiiight.

Reality came back into focus as Izzy spoke.


Its not just a poem. The runes form a kind of pattern that I can channel power through so that I can get the best results on certain kinds of spells. It's not complete yet though. This design, it's very ancient. My tattoo artist didn't know what most of the writing meant and even I don't understand all of it.

"Well, for what its worth, its very beautiful. And I can understand it, so if you ever want to know what it says when you're done..."

Cyarra suddenly made a face, then made sure her hood was down low... again. Fidgeting.

"Was just a thing I picked up on my travels. Celestial I mean."

She cleared her throat a little harder now.

"You know... you pick up all sorts of weird things while traveling. Like... the language of the heavens for example?"

She looked up to Clive and Zelgiel for some sort of affirmation, No? Nothing? She turned back to Izzy.

"It was a thing."

Awkward Silence.

"And I meant the tattoo's were beautiful by the way! Not you! ... No wait, you too! I mean both! I specifically meant the tattoo's because I have experience with that in my own way, but that's not to say that you're not be-..."

Awkward.
Silence.

"So! Um... Guardsman... Lowstring? I think that's what father... Zanthus? I think that's what father Zanthus called you."
Remember, you need to speak to HIM too before days done.

"So... what's on tap today...?"

[Askel]

"So! Um... Guardsman... Lowstring? I think that's what father... Zanthus? I think that's what father Zanthus called you."

Zelgiel snorted into his drink before lowering, raising a hand.

"Just call me Zelgiel. Not even the sheriff calls me a guardsman... Father Zantus? He's... a wishful thinker..." Zelgiel replied, looking away while ignoring the sounds of the healers' work nearby.

Damned old man... He doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does... Zelgiel thought bitterly.


"So... what's on tap today...?"

Zelgiel opened his mouth to reply, then paused, frowning. He took a delicate sip, sniffed the drink, and drank a little deeper.

"Well, it's no Ulseberry Ale, I'll tell you that. Tastes like something from the Two Knights... A little dull. You're not missing much," he answered, propping his feet up on a nearby dresser and leaning back to get comfortable.

If I'm lucky, Belor'll never think to find me here... Ironic, given that I'm as closed to lying in bed as one can get in the White Deer...

Zelgiel watched the healers for a few minutes, enjoying the time he had in relative privacy from his waiting duties downstairs. Finally, he spoke again.

"So, Rose was it? That was some impressive magic you were touting earlier. Definitely beyond the stage shows Master Ilsoari puts on. I saw a traveling mage from Riddleport stop at the Rusty Dragon a few years back, but all he did was rant about the Old Light and shoot some fireworks out of a sheet of paper. Nothing like what you just did," he noted, looking lazily at the woman to whom he was speaking.

[Feather Sigil]

Despite already being tired of the attack, despite the grotesque sights that doggedly latched onto her thoughts, despite being dirty and weary and all too willing to simply shut the door to her apartment, spend the rest of the evening washing her hair and forget the entire day ever happened, Sera found herself helping Ms. Meresis and Ms. Maewood perform field surgery on a dying man. As they ascended the stairs to the White Deer's upper floor Sera passed by her apartment, very nearly slipping in and leaving the man to his fate...but Ms. Maewood's words outside the inn piqued her interest. Sera had to see, and once she did she couldn't simply leave him, though she briefly hesitated before joining his caretakers. Though Sera had no knowledge whatsoever of the actual art of healing, she recognized a number of of the plants in Ms. Meresis' considerable stock and knew they could be beneficial to the body if applied some way other than 'awkwardly push into the wound and hope for the best'. She absolutely could not touch his blood, or the bloody parts of the arrows removed from him--thank goodness she was wearing gloves--but she did what she could to help.

Hearing Luna's advice in her mind with a simple spell undoubtedly helped, and so might have the state of his body itself; despite his grievous injuries Sera found tending to him was considerably easier to bear than watching the goblins die, even during the moments when the arrows had to be pushed through the other side of his body so as to keep their barbs from tearing him apart from within, or when blood splattered out upon their removal. Perhaps that had to do with the simple fact that he was alive and, under their care, recovering, or at least he appeared to be to Sera. Seeing his chest rise and fall with his sleeping breaths, seeing his wounds shrink and knit themselves shut as Ms. Maewood cast her healing magic; whatever they were doing was working.

Though she never partook in their small talk during the procedure, none of them seemed to mind her being there. In truth, Sera wanted to know everything there was to know about Ms. Meresis' tattoos. She'd never seen Varisian spell-patterns before, only read about them. The markings were as beautiful as their poetry, and as a method of spellcasting it seemed intriguing--despite Luna's dismissive feelings when she looked at them. Then there was Ms. Maewood. Sera might not have normally placed any particular regard in her claim to have simply picked up Celestial, for Sera herself had done the same--it was a popular language in Magnimar, at least, what with the city's connection to the Empyreal Lords--but Ms. Maewood mentioned earlier she was an aasimar. That term was familiar, and Sera tried to remember what she'd read about the aasimar species. Were they not otherworldly beings, the children of the benevolent aliens of the Outer Sphere? If Ms. Maewood was one such creature, it might explain that compulsion to protect she described. Sera wanted to ask them about these things, but didn't.

Eventually there was nothing more they could do but let him rest. Sera gave Mr. Boonie some space with his son and left for her apartment, but something else drew her away before she could reach it. It was as though one of the gods simply would not allow her to have that bath just yet--and today was the 1st of Rova. At least she was "safe", to a degree, here. It wasn't the Rusty Dragon and if anyone tried to accost her here, even the sheriff, she could make a fuss about it in plain view of everyone. Unless they came for her in her sleep. One of the people she fought with--Zelgiel Lowstring, who now complimented her magic--was the sheriff's subordinate and might just do that if ordered to. He'd be doing his job, neutralizing a threat, no different from saving the town from the goblins.

Nevertheless, she gave him a polite smile, though it would be best to reveal as little of herself to him as possible; the sheriff would almost certainly him about her about her tonight or tomorrow. "You flatter me, Mr. Lowstring. I appreciate the compliment but I assure you my powers are meagre." And even if they weren't, they're not my powers at all. Annoyance flared in Luna at her words, for which Sera had no sympathy. Served her right for drawing so much attention to her with that grandiose display. "Your archery was far more remarkable. Please forgive me, Mr. Lowstring, but I really must wash this disgusting goblin blood out of my hair before it dries. It was a pleasure meeting you. Have a lovely evening." Sera went to her apartment at once, not stopping for anything else and locking the door once she was inside. Hopefully that would be the end of it, unless Ms. Maewood came to check on her or something. If what she said about Mr. Foxglove was true--and given his manner it was possible--then he would not be a problem at least as long as she stayed in her apartment. After making her living arrangements with Mr. Viskalai on her first night in Sandpoint, she had included one additional request.

If I may ask a small favour of you, Mr. Viskalai: during my stay here if anyone approaches you asking to see me, please send them away unless it would inconvenience you to do so. I prefer not to be disturbed.

Whether he would uphold that favour was his own decision, and of course it would do nothing against the town watch, but for anyone else it might serve as some small extra measure of security.

Before Sera could take another step into her apartment, Luna flew in front of her, filled with indignation.

"'Meagre'? You dare call my power 'meagre'?"


Sera casts Luna's Guidance (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/guidance) on Izzy and on herself, and then attempts to Aid Izzy in her Heal check on Lucas, using the roll I made here in the OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=17553327&postcount=691). Combined with Luna's Guidance, this raises Izzy's Heal check to 20.

Afterwards, she casts Luna's Guidance on herself and makes a Knowledge Planes check, using my roll in this post (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=17559921&postcount=700), on aasimars.

[Koryander]

"Your archery was far more remarkable. Please forgive me, Mr. Lowstring, but I really must wash this disgusting goblin blood out of my hair before it dries. It was a pleasure meeting you. Have a lovely evening."

Cyarra's ears perk up upon hearing Rose's words of departure, her mouth moves to speak something, anything to her before she leaves.

"Wait, I need to ask-..."

And with that it was already to late, she was gone. Her weary eyes looked back down to Lucas, holding his hand in hers in an attempt to provide some sort of moral support to the poor boy.

Boy. I'm calling him boy-- He's probably no older then I am. But judging from how he ran off in the beginning of that fight, he's just as reckless as a young boy. Probably just as reckless as...
Me. Oy.

Cyarra let out a long sigh, her tired, shadowed gaze looking out towards the hallway Rose just escaped down.

"What has you so scared Rose..." the Aasimar whispered to herself, brow contorted in confusion. Was the raven haired woman hiding? Was she just shy? Maybe this was all wrong, maybe Rose was doing just fine, and she was just... obsessing again.

Obsessing over another perceived victim...-- If I'm not careful, this is going to be Nidal all over again. Let her rest, Cyarra. You've done your part for today.

Slowly she allowed herself to take a more relaxed sit. If anything, Rose leaving for her room has made Cyarra all too aware that she herself had nowhere to go anymore. Her first plan didn't go quite well...



"Know what? Take the hood off, and then the rest of that getup, and THEN we'll talk about what twenty gold can get you." He gave a very, very coy grin.

Cyarra was not amused.

"Yeah? Come closer, I have some very small fine print for you as well."

The man cocked a brow and leaned forward, curious now. "Oh? and what are you gettin' at then?"

As the man leaned forward to inspect the "Fine Print", Cyarra's head plowed forward, right into his nose.

"A-Auuuughhh!! Wha' th' bloody hell?!"

Cyarra turned tail and angrily walked away.

"C*ck Robbin'!!"


Cyarra winced at the memory.

"Um, yeah... that actually reminds me. What's a cheap place to stay around here? The good Sherriff suggested a few places, but I've twenty gold to my name and no job to speak of, I sorta need to make this gold last."

[Askel]

Zelgiel watched Rose leave remorsefully.

Obviously she's got other things on her mind. I can respect that... Zelgiel thought to himself.


"Um, yeah... that actually reminds me. What's a cheap place to stay around here? The good Sherriff suggested a few places, but I've twenty gold to my name and no job to speak of, I sorta need to make this gold last."

The half-elf set his mug down and cradled the back of his head in his hands comfortably.

"Ahhh... Let's see. Well, you're sitting nicely in a nice spot. Garridan's prices are fair, certainly competitive with anything you'll find at the Rusty Dragon... Though between you and me, Ameiko's been known to shave the top off of her prices in exchange for a proper tale or a bit of song and dance," he told the mysterious woman, as though reciting from memory, "There's one or two other places, too, those tend to run a bit more coin than you probably want to spend. Of course, if you're really desperate, I could just lock you up for the night and let you out in the morning. Vachedi usually doesn't ask questions about that..."

Zelgiel snickered without opening his eyes.

Yeah... any minute now. He'll be here any minute...

[Melquiades]

After finishing his fourth beer, Clive looks more sober than most in the room. Yes, it had been almost a week since he last drank, but that liver was hardened through the years. He felt... better. The pain from his wounds was lessening, Izabetta seemed to be doing a good job on keeping his son alive. And it would be better if he wasn't there when his son woke up. The boy is too stubborn. He might end up opening his cuts trying to discuss with me.

He rose to his feet, slung his musket over his shoulder, carrying it using the strap it had like a traveling bag. Looking down, he broke his silence for the first time in thirty minutes. "Ms. Meresis, right? I'm truly, truly grateful to you. But I think it's better for him if I'm gone before he wakes up. If he asks, can you keep me out of this?", and then, he almost opened up in a smile, offering his hand to the lazy half-elf in front of him, "We did good today, Zelgiel. We protected our city. This brings back memories... oh, whatever. I just wanna ask you, uh, I think Belor is going to investigate what happened today. Everything sounds too strange. Can you keep me in the loop? I wanna help."

[Askel]

"We did good today, Zelgiel. We protected our city. This brings back memories... oh, whatever. I just wanna ask you, uh, I think Belor is going to investigate what happened today. Everything sounds too strange. Can you keep me in the loop? I wanna help."

Zelgiel took Clive's hand, smiling slightly.

"You should be careful what you wish for, Boonie, but yeah, I'll do that," the half-elf replied, releasing Clive's hand.

Zelgiel watched him leave, then returned to his earlier position. He waited several more minutes, then stretched.

"Well, I guess I've had my drink, and you don't look like you need my help... I'm gonna get out of here and see if I can't take the rest of the day off. It was a pleasure meeting all of you. Izzy, if you're gonna be in town for a while, feel free to look me up any time. I bid you all farewell," the half-elf said, then headed for the door out, thoughts of that special tree across the river dancing in his head.

[Recherché]

"Ms. Meresis, right? I'm truly, truly grateful to you. But I think it's better for him if I'm gone before he wakes up. If he asks, can you keep me out of this?"]

And here I was hoping to send the boy home with you and then go home and get some rest.

Despite her words the healer's face is not truly bitter, simply exhausted.




"Ahhh... Let's see. Well, you're sitting nicely in a nice spot. Garridan's prices are fair, certainly competitive with anything you'll find at the Rusty Dragon... Though between you and me, Ameiko's been known to shave the top off of her prices in exchange for a proper tale or a bit of song and dance," he told the mysterious woman, as though reciting from memory, "There's one or two other places, too, those tend to run a bit more coin than you probably want to spend. Of course, if you're really desperate, I could just lock you up for the night and let you out in the morning. Vachedi usually doesn't ask questions about that..."


Really Zeg? The woman saves our life and you offer to lock her up?

Izzy's not sure if she's on the verge of laughter or crying as she fishes around in her pockets with bloodstained hands before presenting a key to Cyarra.

My apartment has a spare bedroom you can stay in provided you don't mind living with me and a cat that believes that he owns the place. Before the woman can turn her down and embarrass her Izzy rattles off the directions to the Cliff St apartment and asksBy the way if you're going near the cathedral would you tell The Father that I'm over here?

Izzy presses the key into her hand and heads downstairs to tell the guardsmen that there's an impromptu free clinic in the upper rooms of the inn and to bring up any wounded they find.

Might as well keep myself busy. Its going to be a long night.

[Koryander]

[B][COLOR="#4B0082"]Really Zeg? The woman saves our life and you offer to lock her up?

Izzy's not sure if she's on the verge of laughter or crying as she fishes around in her pockets with bloodstained hands before presenting a key to Cyarra.

My apartment has a spare bedroom you can stay in provided you don't mind living with me and a cat that believes that he owns the place.

Cyarra blinks! She half smiles, half tilts her head in confusion as she just sorta nods.

"Well, cats always think they own the place, but that's fine. I just don't know I-...


Before the woman can turn her down and embarrass her Izzy rattles off the directions to the Cliff St apartment and asksBy the way if you're going near the cathedral would you tell The Father that I'm over here?

Izzy presses the key into her hand and heads downstairs to tell the guardsmen that there's an impromptu free clinic in the upper rooms of the inn and to bring up any wounded they find.


At this point Cyarra's mouth is just moving, with no words coming out. Oh, she DID have something of an idea of protest, a grand dialogue of "Well, you see. I've got a lot of personal baggage with me and its probably best not to burden you with it."

Or perhaps a "Too many people have seen me without my hood as it is, and I really like to keep this whole Aasimar thing a secret after three people have ALREADY seen me today."

But she probably wasn't going to say that last one, as that would be publicly stating her secret. Again.

Not that it mattered. The key was in her hands, Izzy has left for downstairs, and Cyarra's mouth was still moving with no words coming out. Her mouth finally decided to stop moving on its own accord, and a gentle sigh escaped her lips.

I couldn't say no. Not to her, she's too much of a sweetheart and I'm too much of a softie. I'm going to have to pull some sort of amazing trick out of my sleeves if I want to stay hidden now.

And with Clive having left, Zelgiel having left, and Izzy having gone downstairs, Cyarra slowly sat upwards. She looked over Lucas again, poor guy finally seemed to be in stable condition. She gave Lucas' hand a pat, and stood up, stretching for a moment before looking down the hallway towards the direction Rose took. Her feet impulsively walked down the hall...

Maybe I should... just check on her, see how she's doing.

Cyarra looked away, shaking her head, "No, don't bother her, she's had a rough day. You didn't even see what room she's walked into and she certainly doesn't want to see you right now."

She swallowed hard and let that otherworldly urge pass, Cyarra instead quickly made her way downstairs, catching Izzy's eyes on the way out, she waved over to her and smiled.

"Thank you for the key! I'm going to see Father now, alright?"

Double checking, and triple checking her hood once again, she opened the door and started to make her way towards the church.

[LordHavelock]

In the long hour which follows, the sun begins to set properly and the mood about the White Deer Inn relaxes noticeably from the initial tension and apprehension of imminent goblin attack. As the time wears on however, confusion, wariness, and curiosity begin to set in, as those still present, whether guests or locals begin to murmur about the attack, what might have motivated it, and those battle-worn folks who even now busy themselves in the aftermath, or do their best to find some solace. “Rose”’s early retirement to her room makes for little in the way of gossip, but the presence of Clive Boonie, in the more familiar setting of an inn and with a mug, makes for much speculation from those who recognize the weapon slung across his back and the marks of battle about him. Zelgiel’s presence too is something of a comfort, but while his tone and demeanor speak of the half-elf’s usually relaxed and languid state of being, totally at odds with the evidence of smoke and dust and blood which a quick brushing off cannot hide. Then there is the cloaked and hooded figure of Cyarra, doing her best to hide her features from scrutiny, but none-the-less clearly marked by her arms and armor as one of those who came to the town’s defense, and there is much speculation amongst those assembled as to who amongst Sandpoint’s locals or even regular travelers might be able to wield the towering shield and overlong sword which she wears so easily.

Izzy’s feverish work upstairs however is the subject of the greatest speculation, and even the proprietor, Garridan, is at a loss to try and stem the tide of rumors and speculation as to the fate of who and how many others might be killed or wounded. It is only once Izzy, with the assistance of Rose, Cyarra, and one of Garridan’s serving girls is confident that the worst is over for Lucas that the black cloud which has hung over the common room is lifted, the young serving girl unable to contain herself with so many people pressing her for information. Lucas’s wounds were severe, but now with a good portion of his torso bandaged up, and a splint set against the cracked ribs on his left side, it is safe to declare him out of the woods, and Garridan sees to it he is moved to one of the upstairs rooms to rest more comfortably.

With Clive and Zelgiel about to make their exit, and Izzy as well, it comes as some surprise when Sheriff Hemlock enters the tavern, Father Zantus just behind him. Both men are very nearly swamped by the concerned citizens, but Father Zantus takes the lead in reassuring them as Sheriff Hemlock brushes brusquely past, pointing silently to Clive and Zelgiel to come with him upstairs, signalling Cyarra, and Izzy the same along the way. Garridan emerges from helping to settle Lucas into one of the rooms and there is a long, tense moment where he and the Sheriff share a mutually uncomfortable silence. “Garridan.” The sheriff says, nodding, to which the Innkeeper only nods in reply.

“We can use the back room?” Hemlock continues, to which Garridan again nods, wordlessly.

Hemlock looks back over his shoulder at the assembled group of Zelgiely, Clive, Cyarra, and Izzy before saying just as tersely, concern and exhaustion written across his features: “Follow Me.” He then leads them down a back set of stairs through a narrow hall just beside the kitchens and into one of the Inn’s back rooms with a number of well crafted wooden chairs set with pillows around a long table. “Sit.” Is the only word he utters before taking a seat himself at the head of the table.

[Koryander]

Just as Cyarra is about to step outside the inn, the stalwart eyes of the sheriff catches her own. He didn't even need to say anything, the picture spoke a thousand words. Seeing Father Zantus stemming the tides of the crowd, Cyarra quickly passes by the goodly father, nodding.

"We need to talk later, if you may."

Noticing that Sheriff Hemlock didn't seem like the man who tolerated waiting, she nodded curtly once again to Father Zantus and brushed past, leaving him to the crowd once again.

Poor guy, looks like he has damage control duty today.

Her concern about the good father quickly shifted as the group was brought to the room in the back of the inn. Her eyes scanned the sheriff, then to the rest of the group.

"Eh. Hello again everyone."

It seemed like it only took... about two minutes before the band got together again. Albeit missing their impressive Paladin, Aurelius and... Rose. But for Cyarra this was alright, if the sheriff was calling a pow-wow between them, it was probably on the basis that more action was to be had somehow. And Rose, she didn't deserve to be put through anymore chaos. She looked to Izzy and smiled.

Neither did she. If anything, Izzy deserved a medal and a comfortable bed to sleep in.

Cyarra sighed and entered the room, glancing around.

Amazing, all the home decoration and comfortable pillows of an Inn suite with all the ambiance and dourness of an interrogation room. I didn't think that could be done.

“Sit.”

Cyarra slowly eyed the chairs, getting a feel for the light around the table. She re-adjusted her hood and shook her head gently, if she sat down there'd be no secrets anymore... the light would shine right on her face.

"No thank you... I'll stand. Its appreciated all the same Sheriff."

[Askel]

As soon as Zelgiel saw the sheriff, all thoughts of sneaking off to his favorite spot shriveled away.


Hemlock looks back over his shoulder at the assembled group of Zelgiely, Clive, Cyarra, and Izzy before saying just as tersely, concern and exhaustion written across his features: “Follow Me.”

Zelgiel nodded glumly. He didn't make eye-contact with Father Zantus, though. In fact, he didn't so much as acknowledge the man's presence; he just smiled briefly at one of the ladies nearby, then turned and followed the sheriff, as commanded.


He then leads them down a back set of stairs through a narrow hall just beside the kitchens and into one of the Inn’s back rooms with a number of well crafted wooden chairs set with pillows around a long table. “Sit.” Is the only word he utters before taking a seat himself at the head of the table.

Zelgiel opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, tilting his head in concession to the sheriff and taking a seat. Once seated, he leaned back, propped one leg over the other leg's knee, and clasped both hands to the back of his head.

[Recherché]

Izzy's feet burn with exhaustion as she's led away from her patient into the back room conference.

I shouldn't be here; I should be taking care of Lucas, I should be checking the tourniquet on the man who's name I never even bothered to get or I should be home washing the blood out of my hair and trying to forget that this day ever happened. I should be anywhere but at a meeting The very word rankles in her mind. still best to get this over with a minimum of fuss.

She pulls aside the serving girl from before .

Uhm, miss could I get some coffee. Very strong if you can.

Who knows maybe something useful will come out of this mess.

[Melquiades]

Almost out of the door, thinking about how he could finish his drinking at home with the two bottles of an old vintage wine he saved -- he simply couldn't afford to throw them out when he stopped --, Belor shows up. Clive immediately recognizes that there's something serious going on. Hemlock is a serious man, and he knows how to impose his authority when he needs to, but that's it, just when he needs to.

He doesn't want to admit to himself, but he is glad. Clive felt that before today, and was experiencing it again now. He was feeling useful. Recognized. Remembered for something else other than being just a complete mess and the subject of jokes for the younger ones. He tried to push those feelings away as he walked after Belor and the others, saying to himself that it was almost childish to feel proud about himself like that. And at 62, if there was something he couldn't afford, that something was being childish.

"Sit."

Even though he still thought his judgement was perfect after a few drinks, he couldn't resist and murmured to Zelgiel "Did he hire me and I wasn't informed?", hoping the half-elf could keep quiet and not laugh, revealing his little quip.

[King Tius]

OOC: Going to insert myself retroactively into the scene like we discussed in PMs, LH. Let me know if I overstep anything.

Aurelius continues to grill the insane little goblin for nearly ten minutes, asking much the same questions over and over again in slightly simpler and angrier ways when the goblin's answers prove equal parts useless and frustrating. He does his best to try and discern the following:


Why did the goblins attack the town?
Who led the attack?
How did they get in to the town?
What else do they have planned?


Regardless of whether he gets any of the answers he seeks, he gives up before too long and drags the goblin by the back of its shirt collar (or ear, if it doesn't have a shirt) towards Sheriff Hemlock's office. En route he intercepts a pair of town guardsmen headed in the same general direction and passes his charge off to them, instructing them not to kill the creature until it has been brought before the Sheriff. With the last of his adrenaline gone, Aurelius heads to the White Deer Inn for a good drink. While he proved confident and more than capable on the battlefield, in the relative quiet of the aftermath he has little to say. Such a large group of new people causes the paladin to turn inward, listening politely to the conversations around him but not engaging unless spoken to. Those who study him over the course of the hour might notice that he only orders one drink and sips it very slowly..whether it's to avoid becoming drunk, or because it's all he can afford, remains to be seen.

When the Sheriff enters the Inn the young paladin instinctively gets to his feet and stands at attention, catching himself only after he's already clicked his heels together and stuck his chin out. He rubs the back of his head with his hand as his face flushes, muttering something about "old habits." He follows the group towards the back room at the Sheriff's order and sits dutifully, his back still straight and his shoulders pulled back.

[LordHavelock]

Despite the pressure put on his goblin captive, Aurelius is ultimately able to learn little as the gobbo becomes increasingly irate and eventually unintelligible. The creature babbles and raves, as if suffering some sort of existential crisis, clearly the fervor worked up during the attack had him and the other goblins prepossessed of their success and now that adrenaline has run it’s course and he is a captive, paralyzing fear has taken the place of it’s overwhelming confidence. A few more repeated declarations that their leader was “One of the Longshanks”, who saw to it they had a way around or over the walls of the tow, and the motivation behind the attack seems to be for the sake of violence in and of itself. The only other words of any significance in the common tongue seem to be “Seven-Tooth” and “Thistletop” though whether they are the names of someones or somethings is anyone’s guess.

Quickly devolving into a gibbering mess, the goblin lapses into it’s own language before any further information can be retrieved after only a few minutes, but is quickly cowed into a stunned silence by Aurelius’s stern demeanor. Along the way to see the goblin safely imprisoned, two watchmen along with Acolyte Leonius make their appearance, the young devotee of Abadar apparently making rounds of Uptown seeking out anyone who might be injured or in need of assistance and the watchman acting as his protectors. A reassuring threat from Aurelius is all it takes to keep the goblin in line and obedient towards the three Sandpoint locals, and Leonius graciously (if silently) accepts charge of the prisoner, allowing Aurelius to return to the White Deer Inn for a brief respite before the Sheriff’s Arrival.



Looking around the table, at each individual in turn, he takes note of the various state and demeanor of each following the harrowing events of the day: Cyarra’s standing stoically, Aurelius at rapt attention in his chair, Zelgiel doing his best to lounge despite the obvious tension in the room, Clive looking more alive than the Sheriff had seen him in years, and Izzy, struggling not to fret over her patients as much as anyone else. After a long moment spent studying each in turn (and a narrowed glare at Zelgiel’s posture) finally speaks a single word: “Five.”
Pausing as the door creaks open and Garridan himself, rather than the serving girl Izzy spoke with, brings in a loaf of bread, a half wheel of cheese and a pot of coffee; no eye-contact is made between the Sheriff and the Innkeeper and it’s not until after he leaves that Hemlock continues. “Five of you, and over a score of dead goblins, along with the Cathedral saved, the North Gate recaptured, and a nearly disastrous fire averted . . . Seems almost too much to believe.” Hemlock’s face is a stone mask, his tone conveying nothing but a cold tally, as if he were counting grain or wares stored rather than matters of life and death. “Some of you are strangers, some of you are not, but I think it should be clear to all of you that Sandpoint has never been in such dire peril as it was today, not since it’s founding, and thanks largely to your efforts, that peril is now over, with minimal loss of life. Thank you.”

By the end of the statement, Hemlock’s weariness has returned nearly tenfold and his words convey only the sincerest of gratitude, even though his features remain fixed in a state of steely resolve. He indicates they should help themselves to the food, and reaches for a mug of the coffee himself. Before taking his first sip, he finally cracks a smile, offering a quiet "Cheers." before reclining back in his chair and breathing a deep sigh of relief. "Now, Father Zantus gave me a brief overview, and I've spoke with a few of my men and some other witnesses, but I need to know right now, if any of you know anything more about the attack or it's perpetrators, than what it seems to be on the surface."

[Koryander]

“Five of you, and over a score of dead goblins, along with the Cathedral saved, the North Gate recaptured, and a nearly disastrous fire averted . . . Seems almost too much to believe.” Hemlock’s face is a stone mask, his tone conveying nothing but a cold tally, as if he were counting grain or wares stored rather than matters of life and death. “Some of you are strangers, some of you are not, but I think it should be clear to all of you that Sandpoint has never been in such dire peril as it was today, not since it’s founding, and thanks largely to your efforts, that peril is now over, with minimal loss of life. Thank you.”


Cyarra's heart let out a sigh of relief. Well, at least it tried, ultimately hearts did not sigh... but if they could!

The phrase "minimal loss of life" echoed over and over in hear ears, and the more it repeated the more satisfied she became. This meant there were survivors thanks to their efforts, a lot of them. Now, Cyarra didn't regard herself as a hero, she never did, but the peace of mind knowing that she was able to defend the lives of so many was the most heartwarming thing she could have heard that night. Her eyes, however visible that they were, softened in relief as she heard the new.

"Thank the gods, I had worried we did not do enough."

Something still didn't sit well. There was a sixth, unlikely hero in the group who wasn't getting her due. Cyarra wanted to bring her up, say there was another... but her lips curled into a frown. Maybe... maybe if she was hailed as a hero, like she should be, the guard would offer her protection from this... from whatever. Whatever it was that plagued her so?

No. She clearly wants to be left alone for now. Maybe keeping her presence low key was the path to protecting her.

Cyarra bit her lip, and kept her mouth shut.


By the end of the statement, Hemlock’s weariness has returned nearly tenfold and his words convey only the sincerest of gratitude, even though his features remain fixed in a state of steely resolve. He indicates they should help themselves to the food, and reaches for a mug of the coffee himself. Before taking his first sip, he finally cracks a smile, offering a quiet "Cheers." before reclining back in his chair and breathing a deep sigh of relief. "Now, Father Zantus gave me a brief overview, and I've spoke with a few of my men and some other witnesses, but I need to know right now, if any of you know anything more about the attack or it's perpetrators, than what it seems to be on the surface.”

That... that was a stumper wasn't it? She had no idea what provoked this attack. Goblin tribes unifying? That was strange for sure. What had caused this?

"I wish... I wish I had any leads at all, sheriff. But I'm being truthful when I say I couldn't give you the slightest hint at what may have caused this."

Cyarra glanced around to her companions.

"Any takers?"

[Askel]

"Did he hire me and I wasn't informed?"

Zelgiel snorted, not bothering to hide his grin at the old man's comment. He kept his eyes closed, though, and pretended not to notice the sheriff's ire. Oddly enough, Zelgiel was actually comfortable here. He had a certain warm fuzziness that wasn't all from the ale he'd had earlier. It was the glow one felt after a hard day's work, when they could finally settle into a fluffy chair by the fire and... and do whatever one did after a hard day's work.

The half-elf opened one eye at Cyarra's words, however.

"Oh, there were six of us, actually," the watchman noted, looking curiously at the cloaked woman with his one open eye.

He finally sat up straight and tore off a piece of bread, looking around eagerly for butter or honey. When the half-elf saw that there was none to be had, he shrugged and took a big bite of the bread, chewing slowly and savoring the flavor of Miss Avertin's finest.

"Whad cauthed id?" Zelgiel asked with his mouth full, "Looked like a gob'n raid'a me. Thandard thuff, righ'?"

The half-elf swallowed the mouthful of bread, half-choking on it. He pounded his chest and coughed a little before holding up his hand in a 'thumb's up' sign to show he was okay while grinning sheepishly at Sheriff Hemlock. He looked at the others around the table, though.

Of course there was more to this than just a raid... Why would goblins attack the village like that? Stupid... I didn't even consider that until now...

Zelgiel kept quiet, suddenly aware that he was making more of a spectacle of himself than he was comfortable with. He took a much smaller bite of the bread this time and chewed quietly, listening to the conversation around him.

[Koryander]

The half-elf opened one eye at Cyarra's words, however.

"Oh, there were six of us, actually," the watchman noted, looking curiously at the cloaked woman with his one open eye.

Cyarra, for just a moment, visibly winced at Zelgiel's declaration, and then immediately cursed herself for doing so. She quickly averted her gaze and, in a haste, began to act natural.

This is mostly just a reactionary post for flavor :smallwink:

[Recherché]

Izzy pours herself a mug of coffee and breaks off a chunk of the bread her hands almost shaking. She hadn't realized quite how tired she saw the pot shaking slightly in her hands.



"Oh, there were six of us, actually," the watchman noted, looking curiously at the cloaked woman with his one open eye.

She's a mage of some sort or another. Called on dark powers but I didn't feel anything actually evil about her

The priestess massages her temples lightly thinking about how to phrase her next words.

Should I mention that fate seems to have something in store for the six of us together? It could mean nothing; I could be imagining it. Besides who would believe me if i started making dramatic statements about how we're all linked by destiny?

I mean not that I could really tell, but she seemed nice and she was helpful. Her magic looked scary but it was really useful and its not like she did anything bad with it.

Great now I sound like a babbling idiot. Couldn't this have waited until morning and caffeination. Maybe then I would be able to talk coherently.

Izzy pours herself more coffee and hopes that maybe the liquid will restore some of her flagging wits or just maybe someone else will have all the answers and she won't have to deal with any of this.




"I wish... I wish I had any leads at all, sheriff. But I'm being truthful when I say I couldn't give you the slightest hint at what may have caused this."

Cyarra glanced around to her companions.

"Any takers?"

All I have is supposition and theories really. Nothing that someone else couldn't have thought up and they probably have already thought about it and dismissed it. So anything I would say would be redundant, right? And I'm probably wrong anyways.

For a few seconds Izzy fiddles with her hair where it's coming loose from the braids she pinned it in this morning until the silence is too much .

I think I might have seen something going on in the graveyard at the very beginning of the battle but I'm not really sure. It looked like there might have been some goblins coming into the town from over there but . . .

Izzy crosses her arms defensively and tries to look innocent while looking at the paladin, Aurelius she thinks his name was, silently willing him to start explaining about what he learned from the goblin they had captured and negating her need to say anything else.

[Koryander]

Izzy pours herself a mug of coffee and breaks off a chunk of the bread her hands almost shaking. She hadn't realized quite how tired she saw the pot shaking slightly in her hands.

She's a mage of some sort or another. Called on dark powers but I didn't feel anything actually evil about her

The priestess massages her temples lightly thinking about how to phrase her next words.

I mean not that I could really tell, but she seemed nice and she was helpful. Her magic looked scary but it was really useful and its not like she did anything bad with it.

Izzy pours herself more coffee and hopes that maybe the liquid will restore some of her flagging wits or just maybe someone else will have all the answers and she won't have to deal with any of this.


Cyarra frowns with sympathy for the poor girl. She moves over to Izzy and gently takes her hand, helping her gently place the cup down and trying her very best to sooth the shaking.

"Here... calm down first. You're going to coffee yourself into a coma at this rate. Ease yourself, and then you can have more."

What are you, her mother?

But her hands kept shaking, so Cyarra held it them soothingly. She looked up to the sheriff and gave him her most, 'Well, cats out of the bag now, huh?' look she could muster.

"There is a sixth. As far as I can tell she's stressed, alone, and worried over something. Worried over what, I don't know... but I met her at the beginning of the festival. She seems to want to be alone, and I was trying to give her that courtesy."

Cyarra's eyes slowly panned the table, looking at everyone for a moment, and then back to Sheriff Hemlock.

"Frankly, I was ready to give her peace after an afternoons worth of fussing about why she was so on edge. She seems like she could use the time alone. But if you're going to insist that she join us, then I would at least ask that you allow me to be the one to go get her."


I think I might have seen something going on in the graveyard at the very beginning of the battle but I'm not really sure. It looked like there might have been some goblins coming into the town from over there but . . .

Izzy crosses her arms defensively and tries to look innocent while looking at the paladin, Aurelius she thinks his name was, silently willing him to start explaining about what he learned from the goblin they had captured and negating her need to say anything else.

Noticing Izzy's apprehension again, Cyarra spoke up.

"Noticing something is a good enough lead for an investigation, if you ask me. No need to go any further then that."

She gave Izzy as comforting a smile as she could, removing her hands from Izzy's, but still staying besides her. Her gaze moves to Aurelius now, giving him a smile as well. Desperate to try and lower the tensions In the room.

"We probably don't have much to work with, but its better than nothing right?

[Melquiades]

"Now, Father Zantus gave me a brief overview, and I've spoke with a few of my men and some other witnesses, but I need to know right now, if any of you know anything more about the attack or it's perpetrators, than what it seems to be on the surface."

Clive takes a good look at Belor, and just shakes his head negatively. Then he waits. That was something he was once very good at. Observing. Without the heat of battle or the fear of losing his only son, he could finally take some notes on who really were his new companions. Companions? Is that what they are already? Nah... The girl with the armor, her behavior was above strange. Why was she trying so hard to please everyone? The other woman, Izabetta... Well, she helped Lucas. He could think about her later. Clive noticed that the paladin seemed trustworthy, not because of the god he stood for, but because his face revealed how naive the boy was.

And then there was... Rose? He thought he heard the name while he was running toward the inn, he coudn't be sure. Yeah, that one. Maybe he could say something in front of Cyarra, but he sure as hell was not revealing anything of importance with Rose in the room. Not that he knew anything... yet.

But there was something else bothering him. "Why did you take so long, Hemlock?"

[King Tius]

Aurelius stands up and clicks his heals together, again operating purely on instinct when addressing a superior. His face flushes as he begins to speak but he keeps his eyes on Hemlock, awkwardly holding a hunk of bread and some cheese out in front of him as he tried to stand at attention but realized his hands were full. "We managed to take one of the goblins alive outside the inn. I questioned him but did not learn much. He claimed that a "longshanks" or full-sized person, not necessarily a human, led the attack and had a way for the goblins to get over the wall. He also mentioned "Seven-Tooth" and "Thistletop." One sounds like a name and the other a place, but I'm not familiar with the area. Two guardsmen and an acolyte from the temple took the goblin away for further questioning. Sir." He sits down, his eyes on the floor as he takes a big bite of his bread and cheese to buy himself a few seconds of not having to speak.

[LordHavelock]

Belor’s features remained unreadable as he sat and listened to each of the assembled persons in turn, his hands folded in front of him on the table, fingers laced lightly, and with all the implacable passivity of a mountain face. He does little more than nod to each in turn in recognition, or arch an eyebrow, particularly at Zelgiel, but something in his eyes like recognition glimmers upon hearing Izzy and Cyarra speak in reference to the sixth individual who had assisted them. Upon hearing Aurelius’s somewhat stilted report, and Clive’s question, he appears to think for a long moment before rising to his feet, leaning forward slightly, the tips of his fingers pressed into the flat of the table top and looks at them each in turn once more, as if gauging them for any sign of indiscretion or falsehood.

“Ms. Maewood.” he begins, his tone clear and commanding, but not overtly so, “You will accompany me upstairs to retrieve this shadowy magician. Milady Izzabetta, I will ask your assistance in taking down some notes for the remainder of this debriefing, as I will have the Inn Keeper send for a quill and parchment. Watchmen Zelgiel, you will stay here and ensure the privacy and security of masters Aurelius and Booney until my return.” His words leave no room for debate as he heads to the door and opens it, relaying the request for ink and parchment to him before turning back towards Cyarra, and bowing every so slightly at the waist; the closest he apparently could come to an ‘If you please’.

Once upstairs he raps shortly but firmly on Rose’s door, having retrieved a candle from downstairs to light their way, dusk having firmly settled whilst they discussed in the back room, and the windows outside showing only the craggy cliffs to the north and the dark sea beyond, lit by only a quarter moon and some intermittent stars amongst the clouds. Fog had not yet set in, which was a blessing, especially for the Lonely Coast. The candle illuminates the door and some of the hall around them, and in it’s flickering light, Belor appears to be looking determinadely at nothing at all, whether it’s the facing of the wood along the walls, or the knob on the door, and he keeps the candle pointedly in his opposite hand from Cyarra, so as to allow the shadows to remain gathered beneath her hood.

Downstairs, it is only a short wait before Garridan arrives with a fresh pot of coffee and some quill and ink, depositing them beside Izzy with a curt sound made in his throat, as if he parts with them at some pain.

[Feather Sigil]

To put it bluntly, Sandpoint was dreadful.

There were no fruity wines, spiced duck or sugared berries here--only hard ales and fish that sometimes still had their heads and eyes attached. Almost everyone's clothes were drab. There wasn't even a proper library, just one man's obssessive hoard, his generosity in sharing it aside. The beds--her bed, at least--was so stiff and thin, it had to be filled with horsehair and it didn't even have springs. And there was that smell always ruining the fresh seaspray in the air; Sera knew it from her occasional visits to Magnimar's lower districts. Manufacturing, industry, sweat, chamberpots, bodies who couldn't afford or be bothered to bathe every day--menial toil. It permeated seemingly every part of the town.

The one thing that truly annoyed her, though, was her bathtub, though it hardly deserved such a title. The loathsome thing was more like a large, barely human-sized bucket that she had to kneel in--who knelt taking a bath?--while torturing her skin with gritty soap and rags. Usually Sera had to fill it by heating one small bucket at a time--by herself!--but she was so eager to get the goblin blood out of her hair that she settled for cold water that made her skin feel clammy. There was a time when she could lay floating in a self-heating, self-filling bathtub, losing all sense of the world to a haze of perfumed steam, the gentle caresses of heat and silken washcloths...

But there was a point during the last hour, as she settled into the motions of washing, the water poured over and the blood slid away into the tub, that some of those feelings returned. Peace, contentment. Being alone in her apartment with Luna certainly helped; the whole world was gone, blocked off by walls. The terrors of her mind and the horrors of the festival drifted away with the blood, and by the time Sera finished bathing and put on a new robe she felt much better than she had for hours. So she stayed, sitting at her desk, watching the evening sky, wondering who she could pay to wash the rest of her robes, when

"Someone approaches. Two."

And then she heard the knock on her door. At first Sera only opened it a crack. "Ms. Maewood?" Opening the door all the way, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of one of the last people she ever wanted to see. As Luna settled on her shoulder Sera quickly adopted a cordial smile and held her arms behind her back--so they wouldn't be able to see if she tried to cast a spell.

"Good evening, Ms. Maewood. Sir. What can I do for both of you?"

In such close quarters reaching into their minds was easy, so if the sheriff was here to arrest her she would be ready--more or less--for him. But was he really here for that? It was only him and Ms. Maewood, no other watchmen. They knocked on her door when they could have simply barged in if they wanted, and they carried no weapons other than a candle. The sheriff's expression was largely inscrutable, but he didn't seem concerned or angry. Then there was Ms. Maewood herself; Sera found it very hard to believe that her motives had drastically changed in the past hour. It simply didn't make sense for both of them to be there, in their current state, if they were here to apprehend her. Of course, she wouldn't know for sure until they told her their business.


Sera readies an action: Daydream (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/daze) on either Cyarra or Hemlock, if either of them tries to capture her. There's no need to cast defensively.

[Koryander]

She couldn't place her fingers on it, but the hallways seemed longer than they were before.

Now, Cyarra didn't actually think the hallways had gotten longer, oh no. But the guilt? The guilt made the walk that much more apprehensive. As she followed Belor to Rose's room, she could only think on how this somehow got twisted around. She had expected Sheriff Hemlock to ask her to go alone to retrieve her.

... Actually, she expected Belor to pass on getting Miss Rose entirely, as a sort of "Thanks for saving my city, you asked me to leave the poor girl alone so we'll leave her alone!" But no, no that wasn't Belor's style it seemed. Rose was a lose end, and if Cyarra could have it her way, she would stay a lose end, if only to let the poor thing be a peace for a little while.

As they approached, Cyarra finally spoke up.

"Sheriff, I like to think that you respect me for the hard work we've put in tonight, just like I respect you for your rank and title. But I'm going to give you a fair warning. If you have plans to apprehend Rose for use of 'dark magic', I won't let yo-"

Knock knock.

So much for debating. The door opened.

"You... take... her."


"Ms. Maewood?"

There she was.

Rose looked... better, but was that smile on her face for real? Cyarra couldn't help but eye the room carefully... then Cyarra's eyes settled right upon Luna. She gave the crow a curious, curious look, something about it made Cyarra feel... well, she had no idea what she felt. But for a few moments she couldn't break the gaze.


"Good evening, Ms. Maewood. Sir. What can I do for both of you?"

Cyarra snapped back to reality. She looked to Belor, then to Rose, and then to the way Belor was holding the candle. She gave a gentle shake of her head and lowered her hood finally. It felt... nice to take it off, she had almost forgotten what peripheral vision was like.

"Its okay Sheriff, Rose know's what I am." She cleared her throat to clarify. "She's one of the only people in Sandpoint who know's what I am. I hope to keep it that way for some time though, but I appreciate the gesture none the less."

Cyarra looked back over to Rose, frowning deeply.

"Miss Rose, Sheriff Hemlock had gathered all the defenders of Sandpoint together for a discussion on where we go from here. We are trying to figure out what could have provoked such an attack and why. He was rather short with all of us, but I assume this is why we've come to see you."

She looks to Belor, curious and somewhat hopeful that this WAS the reason him and Cyarra were here. Her gaze stays on Belor for a long moment... her eyes then turn towards Sera again.

"At least, I hope thats the reason. I... know that you've had a long, long day. But maybe... maybe you'd be willing to talk?"

Cyarra... just did a sense motive on Belor at the end there!
She's going to try to read him, using the hunch aspect of Sense motive. Cyarra is trying to see if Belor has the "Best interests" in mind for Sera... basically she is trying to read if she's getting a bad vibe for his intents for Sera.

[roll0]

[Recherché]

Cyarra frowns with sympathy for the poor girl. She moves over to Izzy and gently takes her hand, helping her gently place the cup down and trying her very best to sooth the shaking.

"Here... calm down first. You're going to coffee yourself into a coma at this rate. Ease yourself, and then you can have more."
But her hands kept shaking, so Cyarra held it them soothingly. She looked up to the sheriff and gave him her most, 'Well, cats out of the bag now, huh?' look she could muster.

The hooded woman’s hand on her own nearly makes Izzy jump out of her skin for a second; But the surprise passes and she lets herself be soothed her touch.

As my own chirugeon, I diagnose myself with sever caffeine deficiency and prescribe a course of coffee followed by a bath and several weeks’ worth of sleep once the current crisis has passed.


"Noticing something is a good enough lead for an investigation, if you ask me. No need to go any further then that."

She gave Izzy as comforting a smile as she could, removing her hands from Izzy's, but still staying besides her. Her gaze moves to Aurelius now, giving him a smile as well. Desperate to try and lower the tensions In the room.

"We probably don't have much to work with, but its better than nothing right?

Should I say more? I mean its pure supposition but they seem grateful for even the most tenous clue. Well Cyarra’s grateful, the others less so.

Izzy squeezes back on Cyarra’s hand looking for reassurance.



“Ms. Maewood.” he begins, his tone clear and commanding, but not overtly so, “You will accompany me upstairs to retrieve this shadowy magician. Milady Izzabetta, I will ask your assistance in taking down some notes for the remainder of this debriefing, as I will have the Inn Keeper send for a quill and parchment. Watchmen Zelgiel, you will stay here and ensure the privacy and security of masters Aurelius and Booney until my return.” His words leave no room for debate as he heads to the door and opens it, relaying the request for ink and parchment to him before turning back towards Cyarra, and bowing every so slightly at the waist; the closest he apparently could come to an ‘If you please’.

Downstairs, it is only a short wait before Garridan arrives with a fresh pot of coffee and some quill and ink, depositing them beside Izzy with a curt sound made in his throat, as if he parts with them at some pain.

Izzy almost asks to go with the group to fetch Ms. Rose. She doesn’t quite know why, some sense of kinship perhaps with the mage. She backs down though remembering the Sheriff’s intimate gaze as he searched for guilt. So she keeps her head down except for to smile and thank the Innkeep as he delivers fresh supplies.

[King Tius]

With the remainder of the group left to themselves, Aurelius seems to relax, a small smile creeping onto his face. He turns to look at Clive and Zelgiel, glancing for a moment in Izzy's direction before speaking... his smile growing even wider as he does so. "Judging by what I saw earlier, I think we can all take care of ourselves." He chuckles a bit and sips his coffee, growing more at ease by the second. "These are some interesting ladies we got thrown together with...they all see magical in one way or another. Not too hard on the eyes, either."

[LordHavelock]

Sheriff Hemlock was content to let Cyarra do the talking for the moment, as he fixed “Rose” with a steely stare, not so much aggressive as it was simply stern and discerning, as though he would be able to take the measure of her past and personage by gaze alone. Once Cyarra turns back to him he nods in assent. “It’s true, your other compatriots are downstairs in the back room of the Inn, and during the de-briefing you name came up.”

He lifted the candle higher and shifted somewhat as to face “Rose” head on, Cyarra somehow moving to the background almost imperceptiblyly. “I want you to know now, before we begin that you are not under arrest, nor officially under investigation. I am simply trying to gather all the facts now, while they are fresh, and before rumor and reflection have time to subvert them. If you come with us and explain your part in defending the town and anything you might know in relation to the cause for the attack, and I am satisfied, that will be the end of it, with me. If however, you choose to remain here, I will be forced to conduct my own investigation into the events and your person, which may yet uncover details you would prefer to remain hidden.” He let the weight of his words sink in a moment before continuing. The stony visage before her was nigh impossible to read, but his tone conveyed the utmost severity with which he took his role as sheriff, but no discernible suspicion directed towards her specifically.

“Cyarra has conveyed to me that you may have some personal troubles, the specifics of which she was not privy to, and seeing as you are new in town, I can imagine you are seeking some measure of privacy from somewhere or someone else. Beyond that, I will not speculate further, but this is your chance to give the facts of the situation as they pertain to the goblin raid, in your own words, and make an end of it, with me and the law of this town at least.” Beyond anything, Sheriff Hemlock seemed sincere and respectful, despite his dour and stern manner in conducting this first meeting. “Will you come with us, downstairs?” He asked.

It was a long moment, during which he did not break his gaze with “Rose” until, at the last moment, his eyes flickered towards the black bird on her shoulder, and his eyebrows creased just a slight amount more.



Downstairs, the fire flickers and continues to burn, and before too long there is a knock on the door before the serving girl from before peeks inside. “Pardon me, is the Sheriff here? Or a member of the watch?” She appears to be of an age with Lucas, and Clive can dimly remember seeing her about with a few other girls her age back when his son was more friendly with the girls of Sandpoint. Zelgiel recognizes her as Garridan, the Innkeeper’s informal assistant in running the White Deer, of Shoanti heritage, but raised in Sandpoint without much in the way of their traditions.

[Recherché]

Suddenly alone with the two other men of the group, Aurelius seems to relax, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Judging by what I saw earlier, I think we can all take care of ourselves." He chuckles a bit and sips his coffee, growing more at ease by the second. "Those are some interesting ladies we got thrown together with...they all see magical in one way or another. Not too hard on the eyes, either."

Izzy's cheeks burn hearing Aurelius's remarks but she keeps her head down secretly happy to be ignored.

[Melquiades]

"Judging by what I saw earlier, I think we can all take care of ourselves." He chuckles a bit and sips his coffee, growing more at ease by the second. "These are some interesting ladies we got thrown together with...they all see magical in one way or another. Not too hard on the eyes, either."

"I agree, but you might want to keep in mind that it's not polite to speak like this with a lady in the room. She has not given you permission to do so."

Pff. What are you Clive, her father? Way to live up to your centennial age. They probably think you are a moron now. While Clive was still debating the etiquette lesson he just gave Aurelius, there was a knock on the door.


“Pardon me, is the Sheriff here? Or a member of the watch?”

Trying to change the subject, Clive is the first to answer, "Yup. The elf here. Zels. What do you need, sweetheart?

[Askel]

"Watchmen Zelgiel, you will stay here and ensure the privacy and security of masters Aurelius and Booney until my return.”

Zelgiel brought a hand up in a mock salute, but otherwise said nothing as he reached for a drink to wash the last few crumbs down with. No sooner was his drink gone than Garridan appeared with fresh "reinforcements".

"Thanks," the half-elf said to the innkeep.

He seems uncomfortable... Not that I blame him. I can't remember the last time me, him, and Belor were all here together...

Zelgiel zoned out, lost in some distant memory as he poured himself a cup of coffee.


"These are some interesting ladies we got thrown together with...they all see magical in one way or another. Not too hard on the eyes, either."

Zelgiel held up his mug in a toast of agreement, but hesitated as he regarded Izzy. She looked awkward. Ill at ease.


"I agree, but you might want to keep in mind that it's not polite to speak like this with a lady in the room. She has not given you permission to do so."

Zelgiel nodded. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but closed it again.

What can I say? I'm sorry I overreacted earlier? I hope you feel better?

Zelgiel returned to his drink, only looking up again as the door opened.


“Pardon me, is the Sheriff here? Or a member of the watch?”

"That'd be me," Zelgiel said, not standing up but setting his coffee down and yawning fiercely.

[Feather Sigil]

The sheriff didn't know who she was, thank goodness. Hopefully it would stay that way, and as long as it did there was no reason for her not to tell them what they already knew. The others were there with her, they saw everything she did, and they all stayed in the fight longer than she did. The only possible illumination she could provide was as to the Night's poem, but she had no intention of revealing who and what Luna was. Truth be told, she hadn't the foggiest idea as to how Luna was able to do that when she claimed to need a medium in order to work her magic in Golarion; she could at least be truthful to an extent.

"Of course, Sheriff. If it will help ward off any future attacks, I'm happy to offer assistance--as long as it's only talking. I don't begrudge or regret helping earlier but violence, getting dirty, I'm not meant for those things." Sera gestured towards the stairs. "After you, sir, miss. Let's not keep the others waiting."

[LordHavelock]

Sheriff Hemlock nodded in approval of 'Rose's assent to join them downstairs, but made no other effort to affect whether he in fact approved at all, of the situation, of her, or anyone else, he simply lead the way downstairs; that in and of itself being a sign of good faith, and the fact that the watchman he had posted at the top of the stairs only followed them to the bottom, making sure they were not themselves followed into the back room, where they spotted a young girl, the server from before, peeking inside. Hemlock paused a few feet back, prompting both Sera and 'Rose' to force to a halt behind them, and visibly stiffened. Striding forward silently, more silently than either of them would have suspected a man of the good sheriff's size and manner to be capable of, he crept up behind the serving girl, eaves dropping for just a moment before very nearly frightening her out of her frock.


“Oh, well . . . It’s just that Garridan and Sheriff Hemlock both said you weren't to be disturbed . . . separately, but the people in the common room . . .” The girl, clearly a bit nervous about whatever position has forced her to go against the wishes of both her employer and the town Sheriff, looks from Clive to Zelgiel, and then out of the room down the hall where the sound of Sandpoints locals gathering has grown less faint with the door open. “There’s something of a crowd gathering outside, and they’re talking about who you all are and why you’re here and the attack that happened and well . . . I may have let slip to some of the other girls what the Sheriff called you, and they may have told the patrons . . ."

She is interrupted when Sheriff Hemlock himself clears his throat, appearing suddenly behind the poor girl filling the doorframe with his rather imposing stature and fixing her with a witheringly stern gaze. She immediately goes silent, and turns around slowly, eyes wide. “They just wanted to buy the Heroes a round of drinks . . .” She says, as meekly and quietly as possible, “. . . and dinner . . .”

The Sheriff grumbles and opens the door, allowing the poor girl to retreat as well as making room for Cyarra and Rose to come inside, but as the server retreats back towards the common room, he calls out a curt command for her to wait. “Dinner will be fine. We’ll take the food in here, and you may give whoever is paying the compliments of the Watch and Sandpoint’s timely defenders.” He speaks very pointedly, clearly emphasizing exactly the words he intends for her to use in his place, “But so help me, if I catch you using the term ‘Hero’ again . . .” Belor shakes his head disapprovingly, and that is all it takes to send the serving girl scampering away down the hall.

With a final glare down the hall, he closes the door behind him and resumes his place at the head of the table waiting for Cyarra and Rose to take their seats.

[Koryander]

As Cyarra accompanied Hemlock and Rose out the door, she gently places her hood back upon her head. It felt comfortable being the one walking in the back for once... it didn't happen very often, so she savored the taste during the few times that it did. Cyarra couldn't help but agree with Rose, she didn't want to see the poor girl thrown into anymore violence. Hell, she didn't want ANYONE to be thrown into more violence.

The act of "Adventuring" and being an "Adventurer" was a lifestyle better suited for those disconnected from society. It took a special kind of crazy to keep yourself going through all of the chaos that comes with that kind of lifestyle. Some find it "exciting", others find it as a way to find a quick gold piece (After all, why make silver when you can skip to gold?)... but the truth is, people who didn't belong or fit anywhere else most often found themselves gravitating to that sort of lifestyle, to "adventuring". When you put that title before your name, 'Adventurer Cyarra Maewood', you're not a guardsman, you're not a solider, you're a part of a small strike force.

A member of a Suicide Squad.

Thinking back to all those who joined her tonight, none but the dead eye, 'Clive Boone', seemed ready for that kind of life. He had that look in his eyes, the kind that's seen too much, if anything Cyarra would think it horrible if you've walked that adventuring life's path only to be pulled back in.

Aurelius? He was charming, handsome, he could go so much farther, make so much MORE of himself instead of getting stuck into a lifestyle like adventuring. Izzy fit into that category as well, two people Cyarra's age that didn't need to go down the path she was forced to. They don't deserve that kind of strife.

Zelgiel? Yeah, HE had the right of it. You have talent? Keep it local, the guard will serve you well, they wouldn't throw you into some cave with a troll ready to break you in half for the promise of bank. No, the guard took care of each other, adventurers were heroes for the month until things died down. By then you've spent all your money repairing your armor and nursing yourself back to full health, spending one hundred and fifty gold a sitting trying to remove some sort of curse placed upon you.

Rose though? No... Cyarra could tell just by the look on her face earlier today that she was just a bystander thrown into the mix. Maybe Cyarra could keep on pulling focus away from Rose and onto herself.

Better off ... what was it that Aldern called me earlier? Oh yes, better for me to be the "Escort", I'm good at that part.

As they approached the steps downstairs, Cyarra looked over Rose a bit more curiously. Rose DID give off that noble flair, maybe that's what drew Aldern to her? Was Rose nobility? It WOULD make sense.

Nobility, the word caressed her mind like silk. To feel that kind of lifestyle once again...



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



Cyarra opened her eyes as the sun shone through her window. A yawn and the little pitter patter of feet was all that could be heard as the day broke, and as she walked over to the window Cyarra could only let out a long sigh. Oh how she yearned to go out again! It was nearly four days now! Four days since everything started to change so much! Cyarra didn't know what to make of it, to be honest.

Pouting, she scampered over to her dresser, looking upon her mirror. She didn't know what to make of her new hair, the silver was quite beautiful, almost perfect in its own unique way. But she missed her black hair ever so much... it had a charm to it! At least, that's what daddy would say. He really liked that word, charmed, charm.

"Charm charm charm."

Poor Cyarra didn't know what the fuss was about, even if she think she preferred the black hair more. Did hair not change colors like that? She remembered a few of the servants discussing hair colors and possibly changing them. Isn't that what dye was for? Then again, Cyarra didn't USE any dye, so maybe that's why it was special? She fluffed her hair a little more, reflecting on how... it almost bounced back to its perfect form as she messed around with it. It was a little TOO nice, couldn't she mess it up a bit more?

But try as she might, it would fluff back all the same. Oh well... she had thought about braiding it, but Cyarra hated braids! No, it was okay like this. As Cyarra let off another yawn, she began to scurry down the long hallway. Paying mind to look out the windows towards the small town of Claes... school was starting very soon, and she didn't quite know how her friends would react to her hair changing so much so suddenly! As she neared the stairs, she could hear mommy and daddy down the steps... they were arguing. They never used to argue, but since her hair changed that's all they did lately.

"The markings prove it! They PROVE it! Did you think I wouldn't realize?! Is that it?!"

Cyarra looked at her arm... she had forgotten all about the marking! It just showed up on the same day her hair color changed!

... Cyarra blinked, there were TWO now.

When did...

"No please! Please don't go!! PLEASE!!"

Her attention immediately refocused on her mommy's crying.

"Mommy...? Where's daddy going?"

Cyarra's mother turned to her, looking horrified.



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



“But so help me, if I catch you using the term ‘Hero’ again . . .”

Cyarra's mind snapped back to reality, Nobility? Aldern? What?

She shook her head for just a moment, glad more than ever she decided to walk behind the others.

More Flashbacks...

She's been getting all this anxiety bubbling up inside, just like last time. Trying to assimilate with people again, trying to fit in again, it never ends up well. Just like when she was a child, just like Nidal, Just like Isger, and now Magnamar and Sandpoint. She forced herself to say something, to break her dwelling on the past.

"I am sure that Rose agrees with my sentiments that its been a long day, and we appreciate you doing your best to keep things between us. As much as I am happy to have helped, I don't really want any hero worship from anyone tonight."

[Melquiades]

"I am sure that Rose agrees with my sentiments that its been a long day, and we appreciate you doing your best to keep things between us. As much as I am happy to have helped, I don't really want any hero worship from anyone tonight."

"I can get behind that, Cyarra. But that's just like Belor, he probably knew we wouldn't want to draw any attention. Always prepared for everything." Or almost everything, he heard a voice inside his head. "Forget it. Don't think about this now."

"Do you still need us, Sheriff? I already said I don't know anything about the attack, I can't see how I can be of any help. I'd like very much to get home and rest my bones." He looked to the others in the room. "If you need to find me, I live in Cliff Street. It shouldn't be hard to find my house. Just ask around. I'm sure the nice people of Sandpoint will point the direction to you. I'll come back here tomorrow morning to check on my son, I'd be glad to have breakfast and get to know you guys better." Clive turned his head to the girl with the hood. "Specially you Cyarra. You saved my ass back there a few times.", and then to Izzy, "And you. I really need to thank you better for what you did for Lucas."

Then, crossing his arms and leaning on the table, he waited for the Sheriff's answer.

[Feather Sigil]

"Good evening, everyone..." As she sat down Sera breathed several sighs of relief. Had there been a crowd of adoring public she would have ran back to her apartment at once. At least the pillowed chairs were comfortable.

Upon seeing the bread, cheese and coffee, and hearing the sheriff agree to a private dinner, Sera felt her stomach squirm and realized she hadn't eaten all day. In all the chaos of the festival, then the attack, and then focusing on washing away the blood, it completely slipped her mind. As she said her piece she rose and helped herself to some of the food, making sure to take a little extra for Luna. "Thank you for the offer of dinner, Sheriff. I feel much the same as Mr. Boonie; I'm not certain what information I could provide that hasn't already been given. Each of you were there. We all fought the same creatures in the same areas, and we saw everything that happened." Sitting back down, Sera briefly paused, wondering if she ought to say more. It would extend the meeting, draw more attention to her, make her more a part of all this when she wanted nothing more to do with it, but then she said she would speak to prevent future attacks. "An investigation into why this happened would be sensible. It's not in the nature of goblins to behave with such coordination as an invasion of a town would demand, and, at least to me, none of the ones we faced seemed any more intelligent than one would expect from goblins, which would suggest something else--a more intelligent goblin we've yet to see, or something else entirely, directing them somehow."

[Koryander]

"I can get behind that, Cyarra. But that's just like Belor, he probably knew we wouldn't want to draw any attention. Always prepared for everything." Or almost everything, he heard a voice inside his head. "Forget it. Don't think about this now."

"Do you still need us, Sheriff? I already said I don't know anything about the attack, I can't see how I can be of any help. I'd like very much to get home and rest my bones." He looked to the others in the room. "If you need to find me, I live in Cliff Street. It shouldn't be hard to find my house. Just ask around. I'm sure the nice people of Sandpoint will point the direction to you. I'll come back here tomorrow morning to check on my son, I'd be glad to have breakfast and get to know you guys better." Clive turned his head to the girl with the hood. "Specially you Cyarra. You saved my ass back there a few times.", and then to Izzy, "And you. I really need to thank you better for what you did for Lucas."

Then, crossing his arms and leaning on the table, he waited for the Sheriff's answer.


Cyarra sat down and settled in a little, still not taking any food for herself, but Clive's greeting was more than welcome for the Aasimar and it made her smile.

"Well, I guess I'm roommate's with Izzy now. So if she would like to stop by, then by all means I think that's something we can do. As for saving your ass? Its... just what I do. Don't think twice about it."

I have to remember that jumping into a crowd of 6 goblins is not considered normal activity...


"An investigation into why this happened would be sensible. It's not in the nature of goblins to behave with such coordination as an invasion of a town would demand, and, at least to me, none of the ones we faced seemed any more intelligent than one would expect from goblins, which would suggest something else--a more intelligent goblin we've yet to see, or something else entirely, directing them somehow."

She carefully regarded Rose's words... the implication that she could be correct was almost too obvious. But if this was the case? If someone was leading the goblins like Aurelius mentioned, and Rose's assumptions?

"Then that would mean that whomever was behind this is still at large, and could be poised to do something again in the near future. For all we know this could have been a small attack to see how the town would react. See if we're a bunch of softies or not"

The realization sank in that this may not be an end to a crazy day, that this may in fact be the beginning of something even worse made Cyarra sick to her stomach.

"What DO we know about the local goblin tribes, exactly? How many? Is there any reason for them to hold grudges? Any humans or elves or dwarves packing a grudge against Sandpoint to rally these goblin's together against us?"

[Askel]

Zelgiel smirked at the sheriff as he entered the room.

"That was harsh," he chided, then coughed into the table when Hemlock turned his eyes on him.

Right. We aren't allowed to be friends when we're on duty... He could do with loosening up a bit...

The half-elf listened to the conversation some as it went on, but more and more he found his attention waning. The day had been long, and he'd done a lot more work than usual. Fighting always left Zelgiel feeling drained, and he hadn't been able to get his nap, anyway. He yawned once or twice, and was just starting to drift off in his comfort until the warrior woman mentioned another attack.

The half-elf balked at that, his eyes suddenly open wide and his posture upright.

"Wait a second... you think this could happen again? Are there even that many goblins in the area? That had to be most if not all of an entire tribe that attacked the town, and not many got away. How many could possibly be left to trouble Sandpoint?" he protested, unable to hide his distress at the thought.

[LordHavelock]

“It will only be a while longer, At which point I will leave you to enjoy your meals or remand to your homes as you see fit. It is that I have two matters which must yet be addressed, your actions together in the defense of the town, and the motivation behind the attack, the former of which I will address first.” Taking his seat back at the head of the table, he pours himself a drink for the first time that evening.

“The simple fact of the matter is that the people of this town are very soon going to learn about your tremendous deeds in defense of this town and there’s only so much I can do to quell gossip and rumors and the like. I have already told Ms. Rose that my official investigation will leave your names out of it as much as possible, and further, it is my intention to keep that record sealed for review by myself, the mayor, and Father Zanthus, as we have learned this attack may have something to do with the Cathedral. All the same, the attack was very public, as was your role in it, and I would not be at all surprised if all of you find yourselves the subject of more than a little praise over the coming weeks. With few deaths and real evidence of the raid, the fear will be forgotten very quickly and all that will remain is gratitude. I would encourage all of you to take that seriously, and not abuse your status, however temporary.”

Lying back in his chair after the brief speech, he takes a long pull at his coffee and rubs his temples on the left side with his fingers, the first sign of actual physical weakness he has yet shown that evening. “Now, to address the second matter, and to answer your question from before Clive, as to why it took me so long to arrive from Downtown, is due in large part to a certain visiting noble from Magnimar. I’m sure most of you noticed the latest Scarnetti to grace Sandpoint with his presence, and it seems he is searching for a particular individual, responsible for the deaths of some members of the city watch, and quite likely linked to some use of dark magic.” Belor makes the barest of glances towards Rose, “He insisted on making a foray south of town, in an attempt to disperse the goblins and cut off retreat in that direction, but was nearly overwhelmed. The goblins were surprisingly well coordinated, and managed to encircle the fool-” Belor coughs and interrupts himself, “At any rate, I was forced to bring a number of guardsmen to their rescue, leaving the remaining goblins in downtown time to scatter and requiring much longer to mop up and disperse. I”

“Your revelation, Sir Aurelius, that these goblins were lead by a ‘Longshank’ is as explanatory of their behavior as it is troubling. I’m not prepared to speculate as to who this new leader might be, whether it's related to the Scarnetti's suspected lawbreaker from Magnimar or not, or what they might have in store for Sandpoint, but assuming this was a ‘probing’ action,” he nods to Cyarra, “Thanks to you, we’ve shown that we’re no pushovers. There are however at least six tribes near enough to cause trouble for Sandpoint (something you should well remember Zelgiel) and their forces combined, laying siege to the town is something we are in no way prepared for. I’ll need to look into matters a bit further but for now, I would appreciate it if you all remain in town for now, perhaps even on call should need arise.”

[Koryander]

Cyarra's brow furrowed at this mention of a 'Lawbreaker from Magnamar', someone linked to dark magic. She swallowed somewhat, but kept her gaze looking forward at Hemlock. It was... better not to assume. In fact, Cyarra almost didn't want to know. Even if it WAS true, there could have been so many reasons why, how, what. Cyarra didn't know the situations, the stipulations behind it, or even if it was her to begin with. Still, she couldn't hide her reaction entirely... a small frown creased her face.

Regardless, beyond such personal affairs, the thought all 6 of them being big damned heroes didn't sound too appealing either... but maybe this was the right first step to make in Magnamar? I mean, the plan was to assimilate to town eventually, she couldn't hide her Aasimar heritage forever after all. But she had hoped to at least move in with more grace than to be shoved forward like a hero on her first day.

Maybe it wasn't going to be as bad as she thought. Maybe their would be no stealing of hair, no rubbing of warts, no begging to cure disease, no prejudice... it could possibly work out with this kind of a good start, right?

But the town being a target by some unknown individual, rising the goblin tribes against Sandpoint?

"May I ask... in what regard did you learn that the church was a probable target? What evidence was left behind?

Cyarra cleared her throat in thought.

"I'd like to learn more about these... Scarnetti's, considering someone of their employ tried to con me the moment I came here. And some information about these Goblin tribes, In particular figuring out the ones most likely to be willing to get roped along in some 'longshanks' personal vendetta would be a good first step. As well as figuring out what they would want from the church."

[Feather Sigil]

Just before Sera could give Mr. Lowstring what she feared would be a somewhat disheartening answer, the sheriff spoke. His mention of the Scarnetti's mission sent chills through her spine, but rather than stay quiet she decided to simply keep talking, acting as if the Scarnetti was no concern of hers. Clearly she wasn't a good enough liar to brush off her own stress, so perhaps a more casual approach would be more effective.

What was more puzzling than distressing was the mention of dark magic. She hadn't yet made her pact with Luna back at the caucus and before today she'd never used Luna's magic in public; unless he simply made that up to make her seem an even greater threat he had to be looking for someone besides her, but who?

"Sir Sheriff, I believe the six tribes have already joined forces. Several if not all of them contributed infantry to this invasion; the goblins we fought wore multiple distinct tribal markings and clothing." She hadn't noticed--as far as Sera was concerned they all looked the same--but Luna had.

"Out, damned spot! Oh, my apologies. That was improper."

"Bah! My feelings are unharmed, Seraphina, I assure you."

"Nevertheless. Now if only this blood would obey..."

"If 'tis so important to you, carry some soap for your thrice-blighted mouth--"

"Luna!"

"--for you may yet commit such indiscretions again. This invasion was only the beginning; they will return. 'Tis clear that something or someone has united the local tribes."

"How do you know that?"

"They each have their own primitive forms of culture. Body markings and clothing distinct to each tribe, and more than one tribe's image was worn today."

"Normally the tribes only interact through petty territorial squabbles; this unity is as unnatural as their obeying a humanoid--a Longshank. It may be that the goblins aren't involved in this willingly; perhaps they're being threatened or even magically controlled by their leader.

Ms. Maewood, it may be that the goblins' leader wants the cathedral itself--the building. Having all these goblins attack the town to, for instance, assassinate a member of Sandpoint's clergy makes no sense, but the cathedral was only recently rebuilt and christened or supposed to be christened today, was it not? Is it possible that someone never wanted it rebuilt? Some desire for the land itself, or something inside or even beneath the cathedral?"

[Recherché]

Hero? I’m no hero. I was all but useless. I’m just a healer and not even a great one at that; without assistance I wouldn’t even have been able to do anything for Lucas.

And yet . . . Because of this group at least two people yet live who might otherwise not. Or who knows perhaps if I wasn’t in that place at that time there would have been another to take my place in the skeins of Fate. Perhaps this day is why Desna saw fit to give me power. Perhaps I am merely a replaceable cog in the machine. Or both may be correct.

“Nusquam fuisset datur cognitio rerum mortalium potuisset” It is never given to us mortals to know the accounts of what might have been



"Normally the tribes only interact through petty territorial squabbles; this unity is as unnatural as their obeying a humanoid--a Longshank. It may be that the goblins aren't involved in this willingly; perhaps they're being threatened or even magically controlled by their leader.

Ms. Maewood, it may be that the goblins' leader wants the cathedral itself--the building. Having all these goblins attack the town to, for instance, assassinate a member of Sandpoint's clergy makes no sense, but the cathedral was only recently rebuilt and christened or supposed to be christened today, was it not? Is it possible that someone never wanted it rebuilt? Some desire for the land itself, or something inside or even beneath the cathedral?"

Rose’s words rouse Izzy from her quiet reverie. And she begins to speak softly not quite meeting anyone’s eyes

I don’t know if its any good, but my theory is that the goblins were a distraction from something else. No one who works with goblins would trust them to do anything sensitive; about the only thing you can rely on a goblin to do is cause chaos. I . . . I used to travel with one. Tia was . . . extraordinary for one of her kind, but even she was less than reliable. If I was a longshank working with goblins I’d use them to cause chaos but not depend on them for much else. Anything I wanted done with any sort of care I would do myself.

Izzy shrugs

Of course if someone has a good way to control them then all bets are off.

[King Tius]

Aurelius can't help but smile when he's referred to as a hero. This is exactly what I left home for...to get out and DO something. His face grows serious again when the Sheriff begins to speak again. The young, handsome lad nods to Hemlock. "Whatever help Abadar can provide in this matter, I am of service. Father Zanthus has offered me a place to stay within the temple. If the goblins were targeting the building directly, I can work with him to try and figure out why."

[Melquiades]

Clive sighed, looking tired. Good theories. Good bunch of people. Not anything solid, though. Not their job either. He examined the sheriff while the rest of them talked. Protecting a noble from Magnimar... while your own people were at risk. Have you learned nothing?

He waited until Izabetta finished. "I know too well that I shouldn't 'abuse my status', Belor. When you think you've succeded, failure is right at the next corner. I don't want to experience that again." He was sure nobody in the room knew what he was talking about, except maybe Zelgiel.

They both knew Casp, Clive's brother-in-law. When Adele died... they were there for Casp. Clive didn't allow himself to be dragged down, not until they found the killer, but it was tougher for the old sheriff. Sometimes he drank so much that Clive left him sleeping in his house and investigated alone at night. Belor would cover for his boss and friend on his day duties. And they talked about their friend, constantly. They thought everything would get better after they found the killer, that time would heal the wounds. Then...

Clive found a lead on his wife murderer. It was almost too good to be true, so he went to discuss it with Belor, since his brother-in-law was in no condition to help. They found out later that Casp overheard their conversation and went after him alone. If only he had been more careful. If he had been by his side.

Finally, it all hit him. His wife's death, his brother-in-law's, everything that he had been supressing that whole time, like a bomb, ten times stronger. Drinking day in, day out. The despise of the people that once loved him. Everything gone with the wind. Too easy. He knew too well to "abuse his status".

"Look, why the goblins attacked now, and like this, is way beyond me. Usually, the few goblins that are stupid enough to try to attack Sandpoint can be stopped by a few guards with their hands on their backs. Sure, there's something strange, and you all seem to be on the right way there, but I got nothing to contribute. I don't want to, either. If there's any danger inside these city walls, you can count on me, otherwise, I'm too old for this crap."

The old man held the rifle strap that crossed his chest, to carry it more close to his body. He got off the table that he was leaning, and made his way to the door, then looked to Cyarra. "I'll be here as soon as the sun comes up. Don't bother to wake up so early if you're not in the mood. I got plenty of time to spend, and plenty of talking to do with my son. Breakfast can wait." Then, faking the more knowingly look he could, he added "And I hope you know you shouldn't wear that hood on the table. It's bad manners." He knew there was something about her, he just didn't know what yet.

He held his hand over the doorknob, ready to leave.

[Koryander]

She gave Clive a hard look back... for what it was worth, Cyarra felt that Clive was not only the most capable, but a good judge of character. She wasn't making a great first impression here, but it was what it was.

"About this mysterious villain in the shadows? Perhaps tomorrow we'll give the church a once over, see if there are any clues. Aurelius, right? Keep an eye on the good father if you can, if the church IS the target in this mess, then he's going to need the protection."

She glances around the table, giving a soft nod,

"One way or the other, the feeling I'm getting from everyone is that we all think this was just one attack of a bigger whole. And like it or not, we've all found our way here with the intents on staying for a while. This puts us all in danger, and as such this concerns us in one way or another. We can pretend it doesn't involve us, but when the town is under siege again by six whole, full tribes of goblins, we'll be hiding under our beds thinking 'I knew this was coming'."

She gives everyone at the table one last glance.

"I hate to say it, as we all have our own agenda to be here. But this may be bigger than all of our own personal problems. No matter how bad your own dealings are, none of it matters when you're a dead man walking. And if that really is the case, that we think there's cause for something worse around the corner, what are we ALL going to do about it? I say all those who are willing, we investigate the church tomorrow, ask questions, and see if there's any justification behind us thinking that the church was some sort of main target."

She swallowed.

"At the same time, we should try to work around each others comfort zones. Even if your part in this play is simply to investigate, or give some advice on the matter, its better than nothing. Its better then having your conscience eat away at you until its too late."

[Melquiades]

While Clive closed the door, Cyarra was talking. He didn't mean to hear her, but after he started... He wanted to hear it until the end. He left the door a little bit open, his ears trying to catch every word.



"About this mysterious villain in the shadows? Perhaps tomorrow we'll give the church a once over, see if there are any clues. Aurelius, right? Keep an eye on the good father if you can, if the church IS the target in this mess, then he's going to need the protection."


What's it about this girl? She's young but... the way she orders people around... No, she commands. Easily, with no effort.



"One way or the other, the feeling I'm getting from everyone is that we all think this was just one attack of a bigger whole. And like it or not, we've all found our way here with the intents on staying for a while. This puts us all in danger, and as such this concerns us in one way or another. We can pretend it doesn't involve us, but when the town is under siege again by six whole, full tribes of goblins, we'll be hiding under our beds thinking 'I knew this was coming'."


He tried not to laugh, but it was impossible to contain the smile. Yeah, I think I'll need to buy a bigger bed.



"I hate to say it, as we all have our own agenda to be here. But this may be bigger than all of our own personal problems. No matter how bad your own dealings are, none of it matters when you're a dead man walking. And if that really is the case, that we think there's cause for something worse around the corner, what are we ALL going to do about it? I say all those who are willing, we investigate the church tomorrow, ask questions, and see if there's any justification behind us thinking that the church was some sort of main target."


Pff, they're more than capable of doing that by themselves. Maybe Lucas can help after he is recovered. Belor could offer him a job. He would stay in town for a bit longer...



"At the same time, we should try to work around each others comfort zones. Even if you're part in this play is simply to investigate, or give some advice on the matter, its better than nothing. Its better then having your conscience eat away at you until its too late."

Her final words were what beat him, utterly and completely. Apparently, Clive still had a conscience. He closed the door, trying not to make any noise, and headed home. Crap. I'm gonna need more bullets.

[LordHavelock]

“It was Acolyte Izabetta who first pointed out goblins coming from the direction of the Cathedral’s east face, and while I’ve been unable to ascertain exactly how the goblins were able to breach the walls and gates so readily, I have no doubt the answer will reveal itself now that we know they were led and in collusion with a person.” Sheriff Hemlock uses the last word very pointedly, to make very clear his stance on where goblins fall in the order of things, whilst responding firstly to Cyarra’s question and nodding to acknowledge Izzy’s theory as well. “The coordination of the attack, and the timing with the festival is too much to ignore a potential connection to the new Cathedral. It’s not my place though to make comment on the Scarnetti’s and there’s certainly no evidence to implicate their involvement at this point. Once I’ve left, you are free to ask any of the longstanding locals about the Scarnetti family, but I’m sure I don’t have to warn you about taking anything said with a grain of salt.” Belor comes very close to cracking a smile whilst addressing Cyarra more personally in this matter, but quickly turns his attention back to the table assembled.

Listening carefully to Izzy and Rose’s further comments (and wrinkling his brow a bit at the ‘sir’ directed at him by ‘Rose’), he nods his head considerately, and is about to respond to Aurelius’s offer for help when Clive begins in on his short but pointed perspective. By the end, Sheriff Hemlock is frowning, but when the retired adventurer made it clear he was in a right mood to leave, Belor merely sighed and said, “Of course, Clive, you see to Lucas.” sounding more human than he had at any other point in the night.

At Cyarra’s mention of a villain in the shadows however, he suddenly looks exasperated. “Ms. Maewood, I have enough trouble squashing rumors of trouble on the horizon when the folks in my town don’t have reason to suspect mysterious figures orchestrating ruin from behind the scenes. Between rumors of the Sandpoint Devil and the ghosts of Chopper’s victims viewed in the fog . . .” he suddenly cuts himself off, for the second time that evening, giving Cyarra more than enough time to finish. Clearing his throat, he stands and follows Clive to the door, “At any rate, you’re all free to investigate, but whatever your findings, bring them to me, and don’t discuss them with the local taverns (especially not Ameiko), and if anyone asks, you’re there at the bequest of Father Zantus, not me.” He leans forward, looming over nearly everyone still seated in the shadowy light from the fire. “Now assuming everyone is clear, I’ll leave you to your meals and your rest. Good evening.”

[Recherché]

"I hate to say it, as we all have our own agenda to be here. But this may be bigger than all of our own personal problems. No matter how bad your own dealings are, none of it matters when you're a dead man walking. And if that really is the case, that we think there's cause for something worse around the corner, what are we ALL going to do about it? I say all those who are willing, we investigate the church tomorrow, ask questions, and see if there's any justification behind us thinking that the church was some sort of main target."

She swallowed.

"At the same time, we should try to work around each others comfort zones. Even if your part in this play is simply to investigate, or give some advice on the matter, its better than nothing. Its better then having your conscience eat away at you until its too late."

If you want my help I'll be at the cathedral tomorrow, but you get to explain to everyone else why I'm neglecting my duties to go playing around in the graveyard. Anyways I'll try to bring a fair copy of the notes on the attack to the garrison sometime tomorrow, sheriff.

Izzy puts aside her pen and paper, waits a few seconds for the ink to dry properly and then gathers her belonging up and heads for the door.

As for right now I need to check on my patients, get some food, and then get some sleep.

At the last possible second Izzy turns and fishes around in her bag and hands a small object to Rose.

Uh, your sling Rose. Thanks for lending it to me. Hopefully I'll see you around again sometime soon?

With that Izzy heads out to carry out her plans for the evening.

You know maybe I should take the staff with me tomorrow. Just in case.

[Koryander]

Looking around at the others, she tried her best to look as optimistic as she could, despite her face being shadowed by the hood.

"Master Aurelius, if its alright I'll join you tomorrow with speaking to Father Zanthus... as I wanted to speak with him tonight, but its probably not the best of times now.

Curious eyes shifted over to Zelgiel... so much skill for someone who seems to want to do so little. But... there was a spark in him that Cyarra couldn't help but like.

Zelgiel, right? Thank you for all the hard work, despite what was said earlier by the good father, you really did pull through tonight."

Cyarra finally looked to Rose and her face turned slightly towards embarrassment. What to say, exactly?

"I... won't bother you any longer tonight. But if you need someone for any reason, just let me know. I'll be spending my days at Miss Izabetta's, so don't... don't hesitate to come find me, alright?"

The enigma that is Rose. Cyarra couldn't bring herself to believe that this girl had killed anyone without a good reason... She would pay mind to visit Rose sometime tomorrow, just to see how she was doing.

"Well... I'm done being overwhelmingly corny for the evening. Thank you all again."

Cyarra clears her throat and begins to stand, half-realizing that she was one of the most outspoken tonight. As she exits the room, she shuffles quickly after Izabetta, catching up to her.

"If its okay with you, Miss Izabetta, I'll accompany you considering that I'm going to your place afterwards."

Whelp, so much for all that oozing confidence from before.

"I mean, if its too much trouble you can just point the way to me and I'm sure I'll be able to find it... If I've been enough of a pain then I'll just, you know. Go. Going is something I can do."

[King Tius]

"Master Aurelius, if its alright I'll join you tomorrow with speaking to Father Zanthus... as I wanted to speak with him tonight, but its probably not the best of times now.


Aurelius smiles politely at the otherworldly woman. "I would be honored to your company. Perhaps you'd like to join me on my rounds about town as well?" His offer seems genuine, a perfect mix of courtesy and enthusiasm with just a hint of playfulness in the curl of his smile and the brightness of his eyes.

[Koryander]

Aurelius smiles politely at the otherworldly woman. "I would be honored to your company. Perhaps you'd like to join me on my rounds about town as well?" His offer seems genuine, a perfect mix of courtesy and enthusiasm with just a hint of playfulness in the curl of his smile and the brightness of his eyes.

Cyarra purses her lips as she's about to walk out the door, making a thoughtful face... finally, a smile creeps at the edge of her lips.

"I... think I'd actually like that. A journey around town it is then."

Her smile grew brighter... maybe this won't be so bad after all. And with that, she followed towards Izzy!

Squeezing that bit in between the point where Cyarra left the room to chase after Izzy, and before she was about to leave!

[Askel]

“At any rate, you’re all free to investigate, but whatever your findings, bring them to me, and don’t discuss them with the local taverns (especially not Ameiko), and if anyone asks, you’re there at the bequest of Father Zantus, not me. Now assuming everyone is clear, I’ll leave you to your meals and your rest. Good evening.”

Zelgiel made a face at all the talk of goblin tribes banding together and this "longshanks". and especially at the order to keep quiet.

"Evening, Sheriff," he replied mildly, holding his breath.

No orders? No "Zelgiel, go do things!"? No reprimands?

Only when Hemlock was actually gone did Zelgiel breath again, smiling despite himself in relief at this pleasant turn of events.

No more work tonight... and I just became a "hero". I can work with that... Maybe a date with Miss Povali at last?


Zelgiel, right? Thank you for all the hard work, despite what was said earlier by the good father, you really did pull through tonight."

The half-elf waved away the complement and ignored the reminder of his earlier encounter with the Desnan priest. He wasn't quite ready to think about that.

"You weren't bad yourself. I'll see you tomorrow, er... Miss. Feel free to hit me up tomorrow if you're interested in a free drink or two, complements of myself. I'll be spending as much of my day as possible at the Rusty Dragon Inn. The offer is open to all of you, I suppose," Zelgiel added, winking roguishly at Rose, "Good luck with the heroing, guys. Let me know if you need any help."

Taking one final bite of a bit of cheese, Zelgiel stood and left the small room. He had a tiny little space at the garrison where he could sleep. It wasn't much... but it was the closest thing to home the half-elf had. With thoughts of sleep and a day full of praise, drinking, and a touch of glory, Zelgiel left the White Deer.

[Melquiades]

Cyarra words were still ringing in Clive's ears while he tried to leave the White Deer. He managed to get to the door almost unnoticed, when someone shouted: ""Hey! It's Old Man Boonie! Come back here man, we'll pay you a drink!" He shut the door with force, making as much noise as he could, leaving the message that he didn't want to be bothered. While he walked away, he could here loud complaints coming from inside the Inn. It's okay. It won't last.

The walk back home was quiet. Most people were either scared in their homes or celebrating the succesful defense of the town. He crossed some people he didn't know, some probably there for the Festival and looking for something to do now. He missed his house, it seemed like he had been away from it more than a week, but he left it this morning. His head was hurting a little bit, probably from the few beers he had earlier, while they were treating Lucas. He knew these symptoms, a man like him couldn't stop with just some cups of alcohol. He would endure it today, though. He hoped he could endure it tomorrow too.

After a dozen or so minutes, he arrived at his door. It was open, as always. He stopped worrying about someone breaking in a long time ago, people would be either too afraid or have too much respect for him to do that. Besides, he brought the rifle, and there wasn't anything else of value in the house. As he entered the living room, he noticed it was clean, as he left it this morning. After years of not caring about household chores, that view still surprised him a bit. Clive finally took the weapon from his back and put it back on the wall, in its place. It felt like the weight that left his shoulders was much bigger than it actually was.

Oh, boy... he thought as he threw himself in his bed. That was quite a day.

The old man closed his eyes... "Its better then having your conscience eat away at you until its too late..." and opened then again. It was hard to get those words out of his head, she couldn't have chosen them better. His mind wandered... Adele, Casp... his fight with Lucas. That was the day he replayed the most in his head. The easiest to avoid. The stupidest. When you raise your children without ever laying a hand on them, they do not take it lightly if you finally do. He couldn't really remember right now what made him hit his son... actually, he could. But he preferred to sleep.

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

The headache was gone by the morning, the sun hadn't completely appeared yet, but he could hear the birds singing, and lately that was enough to wake him up. Rising to his feet, he forced himself to go to the little space he called a bathroom to wash his face and shave himself. It felt nice to be in decent shape again. There was a bit of old bread over the table, but far from the worst he had ever had, and enough to keep his belly full until he could have breakfast at the White Deer.

Getting his backpack by the side of his bed, he was almost leaving until sunrays reflecting on metal drew attention from the corner of his eyesight. The rifle stood there, by the wall, as if it was never taken out yesterday, or a single shot fired. I don't need it. There will be no danger today, no attack, I already put up a display for my son. He placed his hand over his doorknob. Besides, I'm not getting involved in any of that..., he thought, as he turned it. ... am I?

Sighing, he finally took it out of the wall, accepting he had lost that debate to himself. I guess old habits really die hard. Stubborn, stupid old man.

[Koryander]

Cyarra gazed harshly into the wash mirror… it was Izzy that inspired her to try this. The Runes across her body… they were similar to Izabetta's tattoo's, and nobody looked twice at Izzy’s tattoos. Sure, they were fancy, they were beautiful, but they were nothing more than tattoo’s. Cyarra… she could pass off as a human, maybe, if she removed just SOME of the angelic traits from her persona. She can start telling people with conviction that the runes on her body were tattoo's and nothing more. The eyes… she didn’t have an excuse for that, nor did she have for the unnaturally beautiful this’s and that’s. But… if she removed the hair, then maybe Cyarra could put forth an argument that she was just a human.

Her hair, even in its braids, were unnaturally perfect. It became downright angelic looking when taken out of its pony tail. If… if she simply cut it, then maybe she can make her “human” argument more plausible? Izzy was in the other room, and Cyarra had to take her hood off sometime tonight. She could cut her long hair, say it was a distraction in battle, and then drum up an excuse for why she had her more… unusual features.

It was a long shot… a very, very long shot. People will still have problems trying to figure out why she seemed so… out of place. But her hair was a glaring feature of her aasimar heritage that would be removed from plain sight.

“This is what you wanted, right Cyarra? To fit in? It’s just hair. That’s all it is, just hair.”

She gently placed the knife against the base of her pony tail. And… she trembled. Her fingers fumbled with the blade…

“It’s just… it’s just hair, it’s just…”


----------


Cyarra walked towards her home, looking sad and dejected; she didn’t understand why the students in her new school hated her. The girls in Cyarra’s class told her that she thought she was better than everyone else… but the problem was that she didn’t think that at all.

Cyarra tried to reason with the other girls, she tried to tell them that she didn’t mean to look the way she did! Everyone treats her like she chose to look that way, even the teachers were acting like Cyarra wasn’t a real person anymore. The boys gave her strange looks and no one spoke to her like they used too. When people did speak it was about her rather than to her... and it was often with hidden envy due to her beauty, or quips about how she was “too good” to speak to them.

She had been told that the man who had raised her wasn’t her real father... and all the questions and accusations that it was her fault that he left was a knife dug deep into her heart. Despite all this the subject continued to come up despite her best efforts.

She just wanted to be left alone.

That was a new desire, to be left alone, and it hurt her. It hurt because she didn’t truly want to be all alone, but she so desperately wanted to be rid of the gazes and the whispers behind her back. After all, if this was all she had to look forward too... it was better she didn’t have anyone around her at all.

She frowned as she approached her new home. This one was smaller than the last, old and damp. It wasn’t the worst place to live, but she missed their old home ever so much! And though it made Cyarra sad, it was her mother taking the brunt of it. It worried her a little bit.

Cyarra cracked the door and slipped inside. “Mommy? I’m home… mommy are you here?”

“In the kitchen sweetie, mommy needs to show you something. Can you come in here a second?”

Cyarra shuffled to the kitchen curiosity bright in her eyes, after all her Mommy was the only one that really cared for her.

“What is it mommy? Something good for… dinner…?”

Cyarra’s breath caught in her throat upon the sight of a gleaming pair of scissors in her mom’s hand. She knew what they were for, her hair, it had been cut once before when her mommy was ill. Her mommy looked upon her daughter, tears formed at the corners of her eyes mingling with the shame.

“The Neighbors asked me for a favor today… and mommy came up with an idea that can get us our nice things back. You want your nice things back, right dear? All mommy needs is some hair… you don’t mind short hair, right?”

Cyarra cautiously stepped back, afraid now. Her hands moved up to her head, as if meekly trying to protect her head of hair with her fingers.

“W-Why my hair? Mommy I like my hair…”

Cyarra’s mom stepped forward, looking just a little more desperate,

“Because, sweetie, people think your hair does special things. And people will pay a LOT of money for something so special! And then, you and I can live in the big house again! You want the big house again, right sweetheart?”

Cyarra stepped back even further, terrified now, she began to shake her head.

“B-But mommy, my hair doesn’t do that! We tried, remember, it didn’t work!”

Cyarra’s mother nodded slowly, she advanced a few more paces.

“But people THINK it does… and that’s what matters!”

Cyarra crouched into the corner, tears welling up in her eyes.

“M-Mommy! I like my hair! Please don’t cut my hair!”

Her mother’s face was plastered with guilt, but she kept advancing.

“Please don’t make this harder on yourself sweetheart!”

“MOMMY STOP!!”


----------


Cyarra looked upon her head of hair in the mirror, now cut even shorter than her shoulders. She tried to bite her lip, tried push her sorrow away. But it felt like an endless pit. She curled into a ball on the floor in front of the mirror. Soft sobs grew louder as she began to cry.


----------


Cyarra held the blade up to her ponytail, looking at herself hard in the mirror.

“I… Its only hair. Its only h-hair…”

How many times had her ponytail been nothing but frustration in combat? How many times had her hair done nothing but get in the way? And how, even after a day of keeping it braided, it just goes back to being full, perfect.

She hated perfect.

So she had to cut it. She had to, she had to…

“I-It’s… Only h-hair…”

The knife clattered to the floor. She couldn’t, she looked into the mirror and she saw herself, twelve years old, sobbing in the corner after her mother butchered her hair.

The aasimar fell to her knees, curled her legs up to her chest, and finally she began to cry.

[Recherché]

It was the talking that caught her attention; at first Izzy thought that maybe it was the pressure of the battle had finally gotten to her guest. She'd been throwing up, talking to oneself in the bathroom hours later was positively tame in comparison. When she opened the door though . . . the scene in front of her just didn't make sense. About the only thing the priestess could think of was that some groups would cut their hair as a guilt offering or a sign of shame, but those were public ceremonies, not performed in the house of a near stranger at the dead of night.

Looking more closely at the woman in the bathroom, she wasn't entirely human. Izzy had seen her face a little bit during the fight but she hadn't had the luxury to think. Cyarra wasn't a member of any race that Izzy had seen before and she'd met more than a few strange travelers upon the trails. So something near human, that much was obvious, but very odd nonetheless.




Cyarra held the blade up to her ponytail, looking at herself hard in the mirror.

“I… Its only hair. Its only h-hair…”

How many times had her ponytail been nothing but frustration in combat? How many times had her hair done nothing but get in the way? And how, even after a day of keeping it braided, it just goes back to being full, perfect.

She hated perfect.

So she had to cut it. She had to, she had to…

“I-It’s… Only h-hair…”

The knife clattered to the floor. She couldn’t, she looked into the mirror and she saw herself, twelve years old, sobbing in the corner after her mother butchered her hair.

The aasimar fell to her knees, curled her legs up to her chest, and finally she began to cry.

Time seemed to resume when the knife dropped to the floor and the paralysis Izzy felt lifted. She picked the knife off the floor ant tucked it away while moving to put what she hoped was a comforting hand on Cyarra's shoulder, almost going in for a full hug but somehow that seemed too intimate at this moment. A dew seconds passed as Izzy tried to offer what comfort she could and puzzle through this bizarre scene.

You know if you really want to change your hair, I could help. I'm sure I could give you a better haircut than you could give yourself. No offense meant but I can see the back of your head better than you can. Or we could curl it, but I don't have any curling irons around but I could find some, or we could dye it-

Izzy pauses and grins slightly at seeing how Cyarra's eyes perk up at that last idea and she gets up to head for the kitchen.

We don't really need to bleach your hair to make it lighter but laundry bleach will still make the color stick better, though it'll also damage the hair's structure to make it less shiny and more frizzy. Chamomile's for blonde. Turmeric will give a nice yellowy or wheat colored blonde which might work well with your eyebrows. A pinch of saffron will turn it to a more reddish blonde. Tea and coffee will darken and dull bright colors down. Rust flakes for darker colors and walnut shells give a lovely dark brown to black. Unfortunately I don't have henna for the reds or rich browns unfortunately,

She starts to boil water to brew up whatever dye she's going to be making and continues rifling through the kitchen cabinets

Let's hope I remember how Mel used to do this

Okay what's your fancy?

[Koryander]

Time seemed to resume when the knife dropped to the floor and the paralysis Izzy felt lifted. She picked the knife off the floor ant tucked it away while moving to put what she hoped was a comforting hand on Cyarra's shoulder, almost going in for a full hug but somehow that seemed too intimate at this moment. A dew seconds passed as Izzy tried to offer what comfort she could and puzzle through this bizarre scene.

It was as though Cyarra had just been forced awake from a long slumber, the touch had shocked her so. She looked up at Izzy somewhat ashamed, but she couldn't shake the feeling of sorrow in the pit of her stomach. Her hand reached up to Izzy's and she squeezed it. She squeezed it and held as though as if she let go Izabetta would disappear, and she would be alone again.

"P-Please stay. Please. I'll explain everything, just don't leave."

Cyarra was so tired, she was so tired trying to avoid people. She was so tired of being alone and letting her paranoia keep everyone at a distance.


You know if you really want to change your hair, I could help. I'm sure I could give you a better haircut than you could give yourself. No offense meant but I can see the back of your head better than you can. Or we could curl it, but I don't have any curling irons around but I could find some, or we could dye it-

Dying my hair? I wonder... I mean, it would remove some of that glow. That... luminescent radiance that blinds peoples senses like the @#$@ sun. The braids would keep her hair mundane enough, right? Maybe this could work...

Her eyes DO go wide! Her eyes go wide as if the numbers two and two when added up were somehow able to equal the number four.


Izzy pauses and grins slightly at seeing how Cyarra's eyes perk up at that last idea and she gets up to head for the kitchen.
We don't really need to bleach your hair to make it lighter but laundry bleach will still make the color stick better, though it'll also damage the hair's structure to make it less shiny and more frizzy. Chamomile's for blonde. Turmeric will give a nice yellowy or wheat colored blonde which might work well with your eyebrows. A pinch of saffron will turn it to a more reddish blonde. Tea and coffee will darken and dull bright colors down. Rust flakes for darker colors and walnut shells give a lovely dark brown to black. Unfortunately I don't have henna for the reds or rich browns unfortunately,

"Trust me..." Cyarra said softly, "My hair will not go frizzy. Call it a hunch."

Cyarra made a thoughtful face,

"But... do your worst. I'm serious, damage all the hair structure you can. I'm giving you explicit permission."

Walking alongside the much smaller girl now. Her hands laced with Izabetta's for comfort, relishing in the glory of no longer feeling quite as alone as she did before. As the smaller girl starts to boil water to brew up whatever dye she's going to be making, Cyarra peers into the bubbling pot excitedly.

Now, the logical side of her brain told her that changing her hair color was by no means a way out of the prejudice forest... she knew there would be perceptive people who would know what she was, regardless of a minor swapping of hair color and some extra frizzy ends. But if there was a check-list of aasimar-centric traits that people most often knew about, for those that DID know about aasimar, then angelic, perfect, silver-white hair and beauty was on the top of the list. This was a step into bold new territory, a step into the mundane! And, in a strange way, it was a step towards taking her life back from the divine heritage she never asked for.


Okay what's your fancy?

It was time for a choice! A time for bold, new flavor! It was as if a choir of angels sung behind her to help Cyarra harken such a turn in her life! "I want-...!"

"... Blond."

The angels of choir crashed into the earth, shattering into pieces as the boringness of it all.

"Miss Izabetta... I owe you some honesty. And even though this was just a brief moment of kindness in an even briefer acquaintance. One of which I hope we can turn into friendship. I owe you honesty all the same for the help you're willing to give to me."

She clears her throat.

"I am a very tired aasimar. Yes, an aasimar, You're now one of only... four people in this entire town to know that." It was true, Cyarra did look emotionally exhausted. "I am... tired of being an aasimar and all that it entails. I'm tired of these... blood impulses and feelings, these thoughts and needs that are not entirely my own but forced upon me because of this angelic blood. I'm tired of people identifying what I am, and then wanting locks of my hair, and for me to kiss their warts, and bless them with healing that I can't provide. I want to be a person, not a good luck charm that dispenses false miracles...

The poor girl looked desperate now.

"I want to be a boring, bland, average girl. With boring, frayed Blond hair and goofy looking tattoo's."

She took one of Izzy's hands and gently let them rest upon one of her runes.

"See? They're not even tattoo's. They're smooth, hard like obsidian. I don't even know if this hair thing is going to work, but I'm so desperate to give it a shot."

She lets go of poor Izzy's hand. Realizing she may have overstepped boundaries.

"And most of all... I want someone to talk to. Someone who will talk to me for me and not for my celestial heritage. And... and if I'm forcing you into this? Please, please just tell me, I'll stay here every night and just be quiet and not speak. I don't want to place my burdens upon you if its too much to bear."

[LordHavelock]

The night passes without incident, though there are many in town beside it's recently harrowed defenders who find sleep not to be fast becoming, and even more who spend the night awake, some, like those of the city watch or certain business owners or concerned heads of household, staying vigilant against a renewed threat from the goblin menace which before today was little more than an irksome rarity. Other gather in the town's taverns and public halls, including the cathedral and town hall itself which remain open to the injured and traumatized as centers of care, perhaps between them the most restful places in town, especially for those counted casualties of the violent freaks behind the day's attack. Those to be found in the common rooms of the White Deer Inn, The Rusty Dragon, Cracktooth's Tavern, Risa's Place, The Hagfish, and even The Fatman's Feedbag, are all open and lit late into the night as a goodly number of Sandpoint citizenry at least pass through to the closest local for news and rumors of the day's events, the festival least amongst their concerns. It is only for the final four hours of the dawn watch that Sandpoint truly has a measure of peace, and the following morning greets the sleepy village much as it did the day before, no colder, no bleaker, and no more mysterious than any other fog-filled early autumn morning on the Lost Coast. Few enough folks know quite what to do with themselves as the day begins, as the day following the Swallowtail festival was in all previous years a day of rest, but before the morning sun is fully in the sky, the sound of town criers and ringing bells rouses many and all from their chores and their beds, as the runners and messengers declare a town meeting to be held in front of the Cathedral at noon. Barely an hour later, the Cathedral's bells ring out for the first time, declaring not only midmorning to be upon Sandpoint, but reminding one and all that their Cathedral still stands, the town remains, and their are many, many reasons to be grateful for almost all assembled.

At the Cathedral proper, their is a brief knock on Izzy's door, much later than normal, Izzabetta apparently having been excused from her morning chores to rest, though no cause is yet given for this.

One of the town criers, a young lad arrives at the door to the cottage of Clive Boonie, and per his instructions is sure to ring his bell long and hard and for good measure, the sprig of a boy (somewhat burdened with the name of Eik) rings his bell just outside the front window as well, before waiting patiently for Old Man Boonie to respond.

Zelgiel finds himself roused by one of his fellow watchman, but that the barracks is already empty, Harral, the watchman in question having settled himself on the bunk across from Zelgiel apparently sent their specifically to wake him.

A meek but firm knock on Sera's door at the White Deer Inn might require a bit more force to rouse her, and after a few minutes, there is just such a rap on the door with a much more solid resonance through her room.

Aurelius too finds himself the subject of an early morning visitor, in the form of Acolyte Leonus, whose quiet but distinct cough is enough to draw his attention from his morning chores.

And all across Sandpoint, folks begin to drift and gather in the Cathedral Square, long before the appoint meeting time, observing that much of the damage done by the goblins in the attack has already disappeared, as if it were just another part of tearing down and cleaning up after the Swallowtail festival itself. Relief is written across many folks features as they greet friends and neighbors and learn who was unharmed, but their is pain and grief for others as the stories of goblin knife-work are related and rumors swirl about those injured or killed. Gossip and idle time do their work and a full hour before noon, nearly the entire town has gathered save for the most prominent figures of Sheriff Belor, Mayor Deverin, and even Father Zantus nowhere to be see and no rumors regarding where they might be. No watchmen either, as they are apparently deployed along the town's walls or else on some 'special errand' rumor seems to hold; nor are any of the good Father's acolytes amongst the crowd, nor any of Mayor Deverin's usual ministers and assistants. It is a tad unnerving, but the sun in the sky and apparently everything at ease, the citizens of Sandpoint are more idly concerned than panicky.

[Koryander]

Orange eyes and white eyelashes begin to flutter, followed by rustling, shifting and turning, and then a long and harrowing yawn.

'Morning already...'

Cyarra slowly shifted onto her other side, only to be greeted by the ultimate wake-up call.

"... Cat butt."

Yes, Cyarra awoke alongside the posterior of her new friend's cat. Grinning and sighing, Cyarra forced herself to sit up. Glancing out the window, things seemed about right... it was still dark, and if her internal clock was correct it was about a half hour before the sun would begin to kiss the sky. Willing herself to get motivated, she forced herself to sit up. Sitting up soon lead to standing up, and soon after she groggily made her way over to the mirror.

Lo and behold... blond.

Blond hair with some gently finagled blond eyebrows. The bleach had a hard time fighting against her aasimar-blessed hair, but it worked to an extent. Her hair was now slightly frayed, and for the first time in forever the damage seemed to make her hair just slightly messy! Amazing!

In many respects it was still exceptional, a blistering achievement of hair that normal woman would spend many an hour trying to achieve, but it wasn't... angelic. Not anymore.

And really? That was good enough. She began to braid her pony tail, and when content with her crude work she dressed and made for the door. Her eyes settled on Izabetta's sleeping form before racing outside... and it made her smile. It has been a long, long while since she's felt so comfortable with someone else, so at ease. She quietly walked over to her new friends sleeping form and whispered a thank you before stepping outside. It only took her moments to find what she was looking for, a tree with a low branch and ample amounts of grass. And so her dark work began!

Her hands grabbed the lowest, strongest branch, and she raised her chin over it.

One,
Ten,
Twenty.

Onto the floor, both hands down, body straight,

One push-up,
Ten push-ups,
Twenty Push-ups,

Back to the tree, this time only using her left arm,

One,
Ten,
Twenty,

Then the Right Arm,

One,
Ten,
Twenty,

Then push-ups, then sit-ups, back to the tree, back to pull-ups, then to push-ups, squats and sit-ups. One, Ten, Twenty, over and over again. These were her mornings.

Every morning.

On the odd days she ran, on the even days she worked, there was no skipping this routine, there was no shrugging off this ritual. It was without fail and without question. It was without compromise.

One armed push-ups,

One,
Ten,
Twenty,

First the left arm, then the right arm.

More sit-ups and push-ups, crunches and more squats, and when her ritual was over the sun finally rose over the morning, and soon after that people began to leave their homes. Two and a half hours every morning without fail.

She laid flat on her back and gazed up into the sky. These were her moments of peace, there was no thinking, there was no stressing or worrying, there was only doing. And she embraced it with both arms and all of her soul. Her head now clear and pure, Cyarra began to walk back towards Izzy's apartment.


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


An hour had passed and Cyarra now found herself observing her new look in the mirror once more. Having just completed her wash and now decked out in her scale mail, she takes careful observation of her hood.

'Do I...?'

The thought of keeping the time worn tradition of never taking her hood off, ever, was still fresh on her mind. What was all this hair dye for if not with the intent to brazenly look the world right in the eyes, daring it to reject her, and then gracefully walk away proud and unfazed!?

'Go on Cyarra... don't wear the hood today. Go out there and try to be huma-'

A knock on the door.

"I've got it!" she called to Izzy in the other room, and quickly made for the door. Her hand reached for the knob and...

'...'

She lost the nerve. Her fingers grazed the sides of her hood for a moment, before placing it over her head once again. Life felt so much... safer with it on.

Damn it.

A minor setback, of course... she'll take the hood off later.

Yes. Later would be good.

"Hello, can I help you?"

[King Tius]

Aurelius wakes with a pounding in his head unlike anything he's ever felt before. As a young and wealthy lad in Magnimar, he'd had his fair share of late night parties and wine hangovers. However, he'd never before been the hero of a small city and had quite so many free drinks shoved into his hands by well-meaning men old enough to be his father. While he managed to make it through the night without retching, he barely manages to make it out of the cathedral dormitory area before a large portion of last night's fun comes up and out. Fortunately, he'd spent several years mucking stalls and doing chores around the temple of Abadar, so cleaning up after his own sick was almost easier than getting it out. He spends the early morning in a terrible funk, squinting against the light and assisting Leonus and the other acolytes in the morning duties of the cathedral. He's trying to pay attention to learn what will be required of him, but it takes most of his focus just to keep standing up. When Leonus breaks the silence and draws his attention, Aurelius barks out a "what is it?" a good deal meaner than he intended, followed quickly by a heartfelt apology.

[Askel]

Zelgiel stayed in his bed for a while after he was awakened. He was awake, but he kept his eyes closed at first, replaying the previous day's events in his mind, and allowing his mind to wander for a few minutes, imagining what he'd do today. An electric excitement rattled through his chest as he remembered the final revelation of the previous evening: he was a hero now. The people of Sandpoint thought he'd saved them, or been a part of that at least, and it felt... invigorating. More or less.

The half-elf yawned deeply and finally opened his eyes. Very little sunlight poured into his room through the narrow arrow slit that served as his window. Their window, rather, given how many other people he shared a room with. Zelgiel sat up, feeling the cold strike his chest. Harral sat on a bunk nearby; the half-elf stared at him blearily for a moment before rubbing his eyes and quickly getting out of bed and dressing himself before the cold became too uncomfortable.

"What's up, Harry?" Zelgiel asked as he buttoned up his tunic and started pulling on his leather cuirass, "I thought the boss would spot me a day off, given I did save the entire town yesterday..."

The half-elf grinned at his colleague as he tightened the straps on his armor, feeling around for the four buckles on his back and fumbling with them. Once the armor was on, Zelgiel set his favored bow in its place over his shoulder, strapped on his quiver, and finally clasped on his sword belt. Finally ready, Zelgiel began brushing his fingers through his silver hair, smoothing it out before tying it off into a ponytail.

[Recherché]

Ugh . . . consciousness

Why did it have to come this soon. And why isn't there an orange cat butt in my face?

Slowly the events of the last day filter back into Izzy's mind provoking another groan



A knock on the door.

"I've got it!" she called to Izzy in the other room, and quickly made for the door. Her hand reached for the knob and...

'...'

Damn it.

"Hello, can I help you?"

Oh hells, did I miss morning services again?

[Melquiades]

Clive decided to go to the bathroom before he left his house. Going out with a full bladder could be a problem at his age. While he washed his hands, the bell in front of his house rings loud and for a long time. He takes long steps to the door, and opens it with not a single hint of good humor on his face.

"Hm? Whatcha doin' here so early, boy? Eik, right? Clive remembered the child's parents, nice people, but not really smart, specially after giving their son's that name.

[Feather Sigil]

The first knock went ignored, for no one was there to answer it.

Were someone to barge into the apartment they would see only a black-haired woman in a black robe, floating like a lotus in a black sea. The Night told her nothing of the visitor. The requests of mortality could wait, but their business never could. For one hour every morning they went for a walk, one the Night would not permit to be interrupted.

Though Seraphina seemed to be alone, she was anything but. Here, unshackled from a raven's coffin, the Night strode beside her; the moon whose lone light lit a path through the foggy shadows; the cloudless sky whose innumerable eyes watched her every step; the shadows, infinite branches from infinite trees reaching to Seraphina so she would never think herself alone; the rippling sea beneath her feet; the wind that carried the Her voice to her ears. And, always just out of sight, glimpsed slipping between the grey trees or beside her shimmering silver reflection, the image the Night once graced Her subjects with. Where they walked, Sandpoint, Magnimar and Galduria grew out of the black sea, stretching amongst the trees and fading back into fog like passing shapes in darkness. The denizens of the dark and the dreamers of the world lined Seraphina's moonlit passage, kneeling in silent homage. From humanoids to animals to creatures strange, some she had never seen before nor would ever see, all who paid tribute to the Night welcomed Her Emissary.

They said nothing, but their hearts were, as ever, one, and in this place even thoughts passed between them. Such was Seraphina's knowledge of the art of wielding magic that after only a week she mastered the very beginning of their power. The Night was impressed and wanted to show her so much more, but she was not yet ready. Her steps dragged behind her, slowed by the fatigue of doubt, weighed by chains of fear. No matter what appeared before her in this place, Seraphina kept walking, never facing them. She could only run before predators both real and imaginary. Yet the Night could not be completely disappointed in her, not after yesterday, but neither could She be proud.

Ahead of Seraphina, the fog parted before a black mist. Her wings grew from the mist, covering the moon, and the courtiers of the dark turned away without command, for they knew they were unworthy to see the Night as She truly was. Seraphina took Her offered hand, and immediately she understood the promise within it. If ever she was ever in so dire need of aid it was beyond their power to alleviate, the Night would intervene. Diminished and infirm as She was, She still had more gifts of Her own to give, and as such Seraphina was never truly alone.

Then came the second knock. Fortunately for whoever gave it, the hour passed and their business was concluded. The black water surrounding Seraphina left her, flowing through the air towards her windowsil, where it poured into the shape of a raven. Seraphina gently drifted to the floor before opening her eyes and rising.

"Answer that."

As she walked to the door, she glanced back at the Night, guilt plain on her face and in her heart. She still felt alone. The Night sighed and looked out on the sunlit Sandpoint. What more could She do for Her Emissary if she would do nothing to help herself?

"Good morning. Can I help you?"

The Night has granted Seraphina access to Her Dark Gifts (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/other-rules/hero-points).

[LordHavelock]

Greeting Cyarra at the door is one of Izzy’s fellow acolytes, who, after briefly taking stock of Izzy’s new roommate, appears satisfied that Cyarra is indeed the person she is looking for. “Father Zantus requested your presence an hour before the town meeting, at the far end of the cathedral.” The young woman says, though perhaps a bit older than Cyarra and Izzy, she leans past the door frame just a little to be sure Izzy has received the message as well, before nodding curtly and hurrying off, apparently a bit miffed at not having had her own morning chores and services excused.

Leonius is a bit surprised, but recovers with admirable aplomb. “Father Zantus wanted to see you at the end of the mornings chores. Said not to say anything till the other acolytes had dispersed, and that he would wait for you at the far end of the Cathedral, by the cemetery retaining wall.” Despite his shy demeanor and somewhat mousy appearance thus far, the acolyte of Abadar speaks with a subtle, determined strength of presence, neither presumptuous nor meek.

Watchman Harry regards Zelgiel with a furrowed brow for a moment, “Not quite, hero. You got a special assignment, you’re just lucky it’s the kind that lets you sleep in too. Belor said you needed to meet him at the cemetery gates an hour before noon. You got just enough time if you leave now. I got to be on duty at the south gate myself.” He turns to leave but pauses and glances back, “Saved the town yourself huh? Me and Arty managed a pair o’ gobbos as well, so don’t go getting too swelled a head, especially if you see one of our own bandaged and bruised there Zegs.”

“If it please you, Mr. Old Man Boonie, Sir,” pleads the sickeningly cute child, “Mayor Kendrick requested you join your friends at the Cathedral before the town gathering. Round the back, she said, by the entrance to tha’ cemetrary.” Eik looks up expectantly at Clive, all but clearing his throat, until he can no longer help himself and he steals a glance towards the musket on the wall, and his eyes go a bit wider.

Sera is greeted by the sight of Garridan, the inn’s keeper and landlord for the moment, who looks no worse for the wear after the previous day’s and last night’s unpleasantness. Apparently the slight creases along his features are the result of a perpetual nigh-scowl rather than some particular irritation, unless it applies to Sera herself. Behind Garridan is the figure of the serving girl from last night, apparently responsible for the initial unsuccessful attempt to rouse her and looking a good deal more tired herself than her employer. Garridan says nothing but hands a letter addressed to ‘Rose’ and sealed with Mayor Kendrick’s signet. The paper is folded, and a quick break of the seal and survey of it’s contents reveals the Mayor Deverin’s request that Rose be present at the Cathedral an hour before noon. Further instructions implore her to remain discreet and use the buildings eastern entrance, across from the cemetery.

[Koryander]

Greeting Cyarra at the door is one of Izzy’s fellow acolytes, who, after briefly taking stock of Izzy’s new roommate, appears satisfied that Cyarra is indeed the person she is looking for. “Father Zantus requested your presence an hour before the town meeting, at the far end of the cathedral.” The young woman says, though perhaps a bit older than Cyarra and Izzy, she leans past the door frame just a little to be sure Izzy has received the message as well, before nodding curtly and hurrying off, apparently a bit miffed at not having had her own morning chores and services excused.

Cyarra simply blinked, half frowning at girl who was already quickly running off.

"I think your friend is mad you got the day off, Izzy."

As comical as the thought was, there was a bad taste in Cyarra's mouth over the message. Why the sudden need for the good father to see both her and Izabetta? Either Izzy was in trouble for having allowed Cyarra into her home, maybe as a result of some sort of church rule? Or, what Cyarra feared even more, was that all the town's 'heroes' were being called upon again. If that was the case... then something else has happened already.

Its only been a day... no, even less, its only been a NIGHT since the attack. Something has happened? Already?

Don't assume Cyarra. Maybe Father Zantus remembered that we needed to talk! But why would he also need to see Izabetta then?

But no, the sinking feeling that something was wrong still lingered, and she could bet her last copper that the entire 'gang' would be there to greet them.

"I don't know Izzy, I'm getting a bad feeling. We spoke about expecting more trouble in the future, but so quick? I'm hoping this isn't going to be another call to arms for us. In fact, I'm hoping that this is nothing more then Father Zantus asking you to introduce me or something."

[Recherché]

Yeah, she's probably none too happy that she and the rest of the acolytes will be doing work for me while I sleep in.

Gimme a few minutes to get properly dressed and then we can find breakfast somewhere along the way.

Izzy is almost ready to put on her everyday robes when she pauses and instead moves to one of the still packed trunks in the apartment and dives in digging for something. Out flies what looks like a flower carved from ice and a mask carved out of an animals skull is cast aside along with an honestly rather poor painting of a bird man and a young child. A few objects such as an articulated brass hand are set down more reverently in a pile of embroidered scarves. At last Izzy finds what she was apparently looking for, a set of armor made from a peculiar grey leather.

Mammoth hide. Supposedly its studier than regular leather but I have my doubts. It was actually originally a gift for my mother in one of her trading deals. I don't know why she insisted on me taking it to Sandpoint but I guess I'm grateful now.

. . . Uhm would you mind helping? My mom's a bit taller than me and I'm not exactly sure how this shoulder piece is supposed to attach . . .

As they walk out the door Izzy takes a deep breath and decides that her new friend probably needs to know.

It's not just because I got the day off. i mean its probably partially that but . . . most of the other acolytes have been serving at the temple since they were little kids and they still can't do the sort of things that I can do with only a few weeks of training. I mean not the practical skills, they can preach much better than I ever could; its the magic. I don't know if I'm unusually proficient or if Desna decided to give me much more power more quickly than anyone else I've known. could be both.

Anyways I swear I have a point somewhere in here. One of the things I can do that they can't is I can kinda see the weaves and flows of fate if I look hard enough. Usually I can't get anything useful out of it. I can see the threads but I don't know what they mean at all. But the six of us, the ones who fought yesterday, I can see something strange with us. After ten minutes of fighting together the weaves binding us together are as thick as some couples who've been married for a decade. Its not normally supposed to work like this normally those connections should take months if not years to establish but there they are. And I keep seeing something out of the corner of my eye, a potential, not something that is, but something that possibly could be and I think its something big. So that's why I have the armor and the staff today. I don't know if he's calling us to arms, but whether he is or not I have a feeling things are going to get very strange very quickly. And you know, better safe than sorry.

Uh sorry if I was rambling again there, I tend to do that, just tell me to shut up whenever it gets too bad.

[King Tius]

Aurelius gives Leonus a perhaps-too-informal pat on the back and winces as the force of the blow triggers a throb in his head. He stows the mop and bucket he was using and heads to their shared chambers, taking a few minutes to properly arrange himself (especially his hair) before making his way towards the cemetery. "You asked to see me, Father?"

[Koryander]

Yeah, she's probably none too happy that she and the rest of the acolytes will be doing work for me while I sleep in.

Gimme a few minutes to get properly dressed and then we can find breakfast somewhere along the way.

"Take your time!"

That was, of course, Cyarra's cue to hustle into the other room and give her friend the privacy she required. The mirror caught her eye again and she gave her hair another once-over.

No, was that... yes, it was! The very base of her hair, right by the roots, it was silver again! Again? No... no, they must have simply not gone far enough down with the dye, that was okay though... it was hard to dye your hair flawlessly, or so Cyarra figured. Honestly she had no idea, she's never tried to dye her hair before. Shrugging, Cyarra peeked back into the other room.

Eyeing the leather armor now donned by her friend, Cyarra let out a whistle of appreciation, it looked fancier than most leathers she's seen most adventurers wear.

"Well well well, what do we have here? It looks nice on you... well, you know, nice as in respectable and protected. What kind of leather is that exactly?"


Mammoth hide. Supposedly its studier than regular leather but I have my doubts. It was actually originally a gift for my mother in one of her trading deals. I don't know why she insisted on me taking it to Sandpoint but I guess I'm grateful now..

"Well, lets not assume that we're going to be killing things already. I know I have a bad feeling, but I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that this will just be some sort of oddball request, and honestly I thi-..."

The aasimar had to stop what she was saying, her eyebrow raised upwards as Izzy began to fumble about with her armor almost awkwardly. Cyarra could only give her new friend a somewhat hopeless sigh.


. . . Uhm would you mind helping? My mom's a bit taller than me and I'm not exactly sure how this shoulder piece is supposed to attach . . .

Cyarra already saw a few mistakes... smiling somewhat bemusedly she walked up to help Izzy re-secure the harness upon her chest piece before securing the shoulders properly.

"Perfect! You are now a fearsome cleric, ready to strike terror and panic into necromancers all over Varisia! None will challenge your power."

The towering aasimar graciously held the door open for Izzy before she too walked out to brave the world as they knew it. Cyarra was so caught up in the conversation that she had forgotten to place her hood back over her head...

"So hold on. You think the other acolytes are huffy at you for getting the day off? That seems like an overblown reaction."


As they walk out the door Izzy takes a deep breath and decides that her new friend probably needs to know.

It's not just because I got the day off. i mean its probably partially that but . . . most of the other acolytes have been serving at the temple since they were little kids and they still can't do the sort of things that I can do with only a few weeks of training. I mean not the practical skills, they can preach much better than I ever could; its the magic. I don't know if I'm unusually proficient or if Desna decided to give me much more power more quickly than anyone else I've known. could be both

Anyways I swear I have a point somewhere in here. One of the things I can do that they can't is I can kinda see the weaves and flows of fate if I look hard enough. Usually I can't get anything useful out of it. I can see the threads but I don't know what they mean at all. But the six of us, the ones who fought yesterday, I can see something strange with us. After ten minutes of fighting together the weaves binding us together are as thick as some couples who've been married for a decade. Its not normally supposed to work like this normally those connections should take months if not years to establish but there they are. And I keep seeing something out of the corner of my eye, a potential, not something that is, but something that possibly could be and I think its something big. So that's why I have the armor and the staff today. I don't know if he's calling us to arms, but whether he is or not I have a feeling things are going to get very strange very quickly. And you know, better safe than sorry.

Uh sorry if I was rambling again there, I tend to do that, just tell me to shut up whenever it gets too bad.

Cyarra listened to her friend intently, swallowing and taking it all in. Cyarra believed every word, and that's what made it more alarming. Her face slowly became angry, deep in thought.

"Trust me, I know how it feels to be hated because people can't understand you. I know how it feels to be hated because people assume you think you're better than them. Even if you're not better, and even if you are and you don't mean to be, someone will be there to spite you for it."

She swallowed down her childhood memories like a oversized pill. Looking intently forward now.

"You can't please these people, you can only continue to be different and endure their hate until they drown in it. Then hopefully when that happens they'll leave you alone. They won't bother to understand how you feel, or bother to realize that you don't look down at them at all. No, all they'll see is you being better than you are, and they'll be so set in their path that they wont see anything else."

Am I even talking about Izzy anymore? Or are you ranting about yourself, Cyarra? Snap out of it.

Cyarra stopped walking for a moment and looked to her friend, the hate melting off of her face, replaced by shame. Blushing, she began to resume her walking pace alongside her friend.

"A-Anyway. Don't let others give you pause. You're great at something? Desna has blessed you? Good, cherish it, don't let people's hate taint what goodness you can do. As for this threads of fate stuff? Well, Izzy, you know what race I am now. So as you can guess I'm no stranger to... strangeness."

Stranger to strangeness, oh Cyarra, you cunning linguist you.

Cyarra mentally chastised herself for mentally chastising herself and continued.

"I'm not... adverse to the idea of destiny. I've avoided such thoughts... being what I am, my life has been a struggle to simply stay normal. But last night? It almost worked out too well. I'd even say it fit like a glove, we were in the right place at the right time and we saved the town. We've grown up around tales of heroes and villains, and great men and women saving the day in the nick of time... but the reality is that life is often too cruel to allow such things to happen. The simple fact that everything lined up so well? That we were somehow brought together to save the day? And that we all agree that we may have more troubles in the future? There may be merit to all of what you said. For what its worth? I'm willing to believe you."

She tried to smile and lighten the mood a little.

"Now, as for ties as strong as marriage? We just met, and I don't have a dress or anything nice to wear. And I certainly couldn't get you a ring, let alone four more rings for everyone else. But! Maybe if you've got a moving, heart warming proposal we could talk..."

[Melquiades]

“If it please you, Mr. Old Man Boonie, Sir,” pleads the sickeningly cute child, “Mayor Kendrick requested you join your friends at the Cathedral before the town gathering. Round the back, she said, by the entrance to tha’ cemetrary.” Eik looks up expectantly at Clive, all but clearing his throat, until he can no longer help himself and he steals a glance towards the musket on the wall, and his eyes go a bit wider.

"The mayor, huh? Well, be sure to remember her that she promised me some Two-Knight's Brewery... I'll be there. Just gotta check on something else first. Thanks, lad.

Closing the door behind him and hurrying the boy to leave, Clive walked down the street towards the White Deer. He wished to see his son doing well, and still there...

[Askel]

“Not quite, hero. You got a special assignment, you’re just lucky it’s the kind that lets you sleep in too. Belor said you needed to meet him at the cemetery gates an hour before noon. You got just enough time if you leave now. I got to be on duty at the south gate myself.”

Zelgiel raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the comment.

"The cemetery? As in... The Boneyard cemetery? The cemetery where Izzy saw the-" Zelgiel stopped himself, tugging on his collar a bit as he realized that that was probably not something being blurted around to everyone, "Right, sure. I can... do that... I guess..."

The half-elf remembered them talking last night about the boneyard; he'd tuned a lot of it out, assuming it wasn't his problem. The sheriff had a sense of irony, it seemed.

Or he's just a bitter, cruel man in serious need of a sense of humor...


“Saved the town yourself huh? Me and Arty managed a pair o’ gobbos as well, so don’t go getting too swelled a head, especially if you see one of our own bandaged and bruised there Zegs.”

Zelgiel paused by the door. He knew what the man was suggesting. It wasn't the first time he'd been called a braggart, or had it suggested his skull was too hard, or his head too big.

"Me? Get a swollen head?! I wouldn't dream of it. I only killed, what? Eight goblins? Twelve? They all run together," Zelgiel grinned, then added more sobered, "Really, Harry. I know I'm no hero, and I wouldn't dream of letting anyone think otherwise. ... Except maybe Ameiko."

Zelgiel beamed and left the garrison, cackling as he walked past the town hall. He contemplated taking his time to arrive fashionably late, but the scene from the past evening played out in his mind again. Father Zantus's look of disapproval, and the faces of the other "heroes of Sandpoint" judging him... It was enough to wipe the smile and laughter off his face as he headed towards the boneyard, taking a briskly hurried pace.

[LordHavelock]

Eik gives a little salute, and gives Clive’s musket one more lingering glance before he dashes off, apparently with more messages to deliver. The walk to the White Deer isn’t a long one, and outside are a number of Garridan’s staff cleaning and washing cobblestones out and in front of the Inn’s square, most of whom take more than a moment to stop and stare at Old Man Boonie’s passage through the North Gate, not the least of whom are the two watchmen posted their who salute smartly to the retired adventurer. Some of those passing through the square towards the cathedral even pause to wave at Clive, though most everyone seems preoccupied with being on their way and as close to other folks as possible. Garridan exits the Inn just before Clive is about to enter, the gray templed Shoanti man, nodding brusquely to him before dismissing his own people to head off to the Cathedral Square as well. Before Clive has a chance to head inside and upstairs however, Garridan stops him, putting a strong arm between Clive and the door, turning to look at him with eyes as hard as Clive’s own. “Your son left, early this morning. His new employer, the Scarnetti from Magnimar sent for him, and he didn’t want to be seen bedridden. Boy looked like death, but he managed to get up and down the stairs, using that bow of his for a crutch. I would have stopped him but . . . .” The innkeeper cracks something as close to a smile as anyone might imagine him making, “He’s your son all right, Boonie. Told me on the way out that if I saw you he’d be waiting at Town Hall, after the meeting at the Cathedral.” Garridan’s smile fades and his previous demeanor resumes, “I think that Scarnetti character has business with the mayor, but she’s giving him a real run around. Not that I blame her.”

Garridan makes to head inside, leaving the door open for Clive just in case he still wants to make an entrance, pausing before he heads up to the bar, to look back, “If you and your son want to have a heart to heart here, you’ll have use of the back room, and your first drinks free. Least I can do after the both of you saved my place of business from those greenskin blighters.”



It is as Izzabetta and Cyarra are about to exit the Cathedral on the East side that they run into Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Kendra, the Mayor in somewhat more conservative attire than the previous celebration day, a full length dress in muted, earthy tones compared to the day before, while the Sheriff doesn’t seem to have changed at all, giving one enough reason to wonder if he’s so much as slept since the previous day, let alone had a chance to change. Regardless, the Mayor is very quickly beaming, despite the concern on her face before, “Good morning ladies! Unless I’m quite mistaken, you are Acolyte Izabetta and Ms. Maewood, and I and all of Sandpoint are in debt to you and your companions for your actions yesterday. It is-” Hemlock clears his throat before the mayor can continue though, and she stops short with what may have been a prepared speech, before continuing, somewhat more casual and altogether personable than a moment before “Ahem, I must apologize. I’m a bit on edge, about addressing the crowd in front of the Cathedral for the second time in as many days. Tend to get caught up in the role as mayor sometimes and forget not everyone is just another constituent.” She reaches out a hand to either woman, most warmly, and smiles with nothing but sincere thanks, “We really do have much to thank you for though.”

Hemlock at this point gently motions that they should continue to meet Father Zantus, “Were it not for certain pressing matters that need to be discussed with you,” His eyes flit briefly from Izzy to Cyarra, lingering just a moment on the traces of darker hair that can be seen from her hood, “And your compatriots from yesterday, a more formal thanks would be in order, certainly.”

He then opens the door for all three ladies, with a polite nod to each as they exit to the small stretch of green between the Cathedral and the cemetery wall where Father Zantus and Aurelius are waiting.



“Sir Stormscale.” Father Zantus nods in greeting at the prompt arrival of Aurelius after Leonus prompts him as to the priest of Desna’s request, “Very punctual; that’s an achievement unto itself after the day, and night, I believe you had.” Again, the Father’s information seems to border on rumor-mongering, but when he had the time to gather it is anyone’s guess. Though he does look a bit more tired, and lacks some of the celebratory vigor he had yesterday, he still smiles and his eyes are still bright despite the violence of the goblin raid, and any hardships he may have himself witnessed in tending to the injured and suffering. “At any rate, we’re expecting a few more, including the Mayor, the Sheriff, and ah!” He pauses and motions to where Cyarra, and Izzabetta have just entered sight with Hemlock and Mayor Kendra, “Your friends from yesterday.”



Harry gives a quiet chuckle, apparently unable to keep up a dour mood around the half-elf. "Rumors round the watch say you and your friends killed a whole horde of them, but you won't hear me giving out numbers like that. Not even to Ameiko." And with that, the fellow watchmen is on his way, just as quick as Zelgiel, but in the opposite direction.

[Melquiades]

Eik gives a little salute, and gives Clive’s musket one more lingering glance before he dashes off, apparently with more messages to deliver. The walk to the White Deer isn’t a long one, and outside are a number of Garridan’s staff cleaning and washing cobblestones out and in front of the Inn’s square, most of whom take more than a moment to stop and stare at Old Man Boonie’s passage through the North Gate, not the least of whom are the two watchmen posted their who salute smartly to the retired adventurer. Some of those passing through the square towards the cathedral even pause to wave at Clive, though most everyone seems preoccupied with being on their way and as close to other folks as possible. Garridan exits the Inn just before Clive is about to enter, the gray templed Shoanti man, nodding brusquely to him before dismissing his own people to head off to the Cathedral Square as well. Before Clive has a chance to head inside and upstairs however, Garridan stops him, putting a strong arm between Clive and the door, turning to look at him with eyes as hard as Clive’s own. “Your son left, early this morning. His new employer, the Scarnetti from Magnimar sent for him, and he didn’t want to be seen bedridden. Boy looked like death, but he managed to get up and down the stairs, using that bow of his for a crutch. I would have stopped him but . . . .” The innkeeper cracks something as close to a smile as anyone might imagine him making, “He’s your son all right, Boonie. Told me on the way out that if I saw you he’d be waiting at Town Hall, after the meeting at the Cathedral.” Garridan’s smile fades and his previous demeanor resumes, “I think that Scarnetti character has business with the mayor, but she’s giving him a real run around. Not that I blame her.”

Garridan makes to head inside, leaving the door open for Clive just in case he still wants to make an entrance, pausing before he heads up to the bar, to look back, “If you and your son want to have a heart to heart here, you’ll have use of the back room, and your first drinks free. Least I can do after the both of you saved my place of business from those greenskin blighters.”


Clive hears what Garridan has to say, and after he finishes explaining what happened to Lucas, he raises a hand to wipe off the sweat on his forehead and sighs, looking tired. "Oh boy. All this time made me forget how hard parenting was. Thanks Garridan, I'll look for him. I appreciate the offer too, just know that I didn't do it because I was expecting any reward."

What am I thinking? He knows that. You don't have to justify yourself, for Desna's sake.

Off to the cemetery then. I wonder what Kendra wants this time...

While he walked through the city, Clive had his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground the whole time. He didn't really want to interact with people. It was something new to be attracting attention again, the good kind of attention. He still didn't know how he felt about that. About halfway through the path he remembered about his breakfast with Cyarra and Izzy, "Well, too late for that. I guess they'll be at the town meeting. Am I already at the age you start to forget things?"

The hooded girl really left an impression on him, and he wanted to get a better read on her. His curiosity was also tickling about what she was hiding under that hood, but he felt like he shouldn't force her to reveal him anything. "She reminds me of Lucia... So selfless, brave... Reckless." Old pals. Some dead, others retired like him. Last time he heard of his old friend was a few years ago, when she sent him a letter from Magnimar. Who would have thought that a fierce warrior would spend her days gardening at old age? "Better to burn out or fade away, huh? Maybe I'm not one of those who choose the latter after all..."

He lifted his head when he started to see the grass that grew around the cemetery, hoping to find Kendra.

[Recherché]

[COLOR="#FF8C00"]"Now, as for ties as strong as marriage? We just met, and I don't have a dress or anything nice to wear. And I certainly couldn't get you a ring, let alone four more rings for everyone else. But! Maybe if you've got a moving, heart warming proposal we could talk..."

Izzy cracks a small smile at Cyarra's offer

You know I can't think of anything in Desna's holy texts that forbids me from marrying 5 people. On the other hand I'm not sure my family would approve. For starters how would I fit that many spouses into one wagon?



It is as Izzabetta and Cyarra are about to exit the Cathedral on the East side that they run into Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Kendra, the Mayor in somewhat more conservative attire than the previous celebration day, a full length dress in muted, earthy tones compared to the day before, while the Sheriff doesn’t seem to have changed at all, giving one enough reason to wonder if he’s so much as slept since the previous day, let alone had a chance to change. Regardless, the Mayor is very quickly beaming, despite the concern on her face before, “Good morning ladies! Unless I’m quite mistaken, you are Acolyte Izabetta and Ms. Maewood, and I and all of Sandpoint are in debt to you and your companions for your actions yesterday. It is-” Hemlock clears his throat before the mayor can continue though, and she stops short with what may have been a prepared speech, before continuing, somewhat more casual and altogether personable than a moment before “Ahem, I must apologize. I’m a bit on edge, about addressing the crowd in front of the Cathedral for the second time in as many days. Tend to get caught up in the role as mayor sometimes and forget not everyone is just another constituent.” She reaches out a hand to either woman, most warmly, and smiles with nothing but sincere thanks, “We really do have much to thank you for though.”

Hemlock at this point gently motions that they should continue to meet Father Zantus, “Were it not for certain pressing matters that need to be discussed with you,” His eyes flit briefly from Izzy to Cyarra, lingering just a moment on the traces of darker hair that can be seen from her hood, “And your compatriots from yesterday, a more formal thanks would be in order, certainly.”

He then opens the door for all three ladies, with a polite nod to each as they exit to the small stretch of green between the Cathedral and the cemetery wall where Father Zantus and Aurelius are waiting.


Izzy takes the mayor's hand and then quickly releases it, blushing all the time.

Really there were so many people who did so much that day. All I did was stitch the real heroes back together later.




He lifted his head when he started to see the grass that grew around the cemetery, hoping to find Kendra.

Her good humor returned only a few moments later when the old man came into view.

What do I call him? Boonie seems a little too intimate for someone you met yesterday. Mr. Boonie is kinda formal for someone you were hiding behind.

Clive, over here! Sorry we couldn't get breakfast this morning

[Koryander]

Izzy cracks a small smile at Cyarra's offer

You know I can't think of anything in Desna's holy texts that forbids me from marrying 5 people. On the other hand I'm not sure my family would approve. For starters how would I fit that many spouses into one wagon?


Cyarra giggled in response, practically radiating happiness. It felt GOOD to have a friend again. Better than perhaps she wanted to admit, but it was probably too late for that.

Oh well! I will simply have to suffer through comradery and the feeling of not being alone anymore.

The aasimar couldn't keep the genuine smile off of her face. It was stuck there, all goofy like.



It is as Izzabetta and Cyarra are about to exit the Cathedral on the East side that they run into Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Kendra, the Mayor in somewhat more conservative attire than the previous celebration day, a full length dress in muted, earthy tones compared to the day before, while the Sheriff doesn’t seem to have changed at all, giving one enough reason to wonder if he’s so much as slept since the previous day, let alone had a chance to change. Regardless, the Mayor is very quickly beaming, despite the concern on her face before, “Good morning ladies! Unless I’m quite mistaken, you are Acolyte Izabetta and Ms. Maewood, and I and all of Sandpoint are in debt to you and your companions for your actions yesterday. It is-” Hemlock clears his throat before the mayor can continue though, and she stops short with what may have been a prepared speech, before continuing, somewhat more casual and altogether personable than a moment before “Ahem, I must apologize. I’m a bit on edge, about addressing the crowd in front of the Cathedral for the second time in as many days. Tend to get caught up in the role as mayor sometimes and forget not everyone is just another constituent.” She reaches out a hand to either woman, most warmly, and smiles with nothing but sincere thanks, “We really do have much to thank you for though.”


Izzy takes the mayor's hand and then quickly releases it, blushing all the time.

Really there were so many people who did so much that day. All I did was stitch the real heroes back together later.

Cyarra rolled her eyes and wrapped her arm gently around Izabetta's shoulder, smiling.

"So, basically what she's saying is that all she did was save lives last night. Which is hardly heroic, am I right?"

Cyarra grinned now, giving the mayor a solid nod.

"We all did our part last night, even our shy hero right here. And it was an honor to protect you and yours, mayor Kendra."


Hemlock at this point gently motions that they should continue to meet Father Zantus, “Were it not for certain pressing matters that need to be discussed with you,” His eyes flit briefly from Izzy to Cyarra, lingering just a moment on the traces of darker hair that can be seen from her hood, “And your compatriots from yesterday, a more formal thanks would be in order, certainly.”

As Cyarra's eye's move towards Hemlock's she notes his gaze upon her hair. She wondered if he could put two and two together... her higher spirits, the fact that she looked different... Could he see the lack of silver-haired luster from the other day? The angelic shine gone from her once graceful hair? The frayed ends, the imperfection? As a reflex, her hands moved towards her hood and she lowered it again somewhat, blushing. She began to lose her nerve... a far cry from the bravery she showed him the first time they met. She was able to meet his gaze the other day... now that the name of the game was merely ascetics, she shied away.

"No formal thanks are necessary Sheriff Hemlock, these suffice just fine."

Suddenly, just her hair changing color didn't seem good enough. Cyarra began to crawl back into her shell.



Her good humor returned only a few moments later when the old man came into view.

What do I call him? Boonie seems a little too intimate for someone you met yesterday. Mr. Boonie is kinda formal for someone you were hiding behind.

Clive, over here! Sorry we couldn't get breakfast this morning

The old man. She smiled a fond smile at him as he approached.

"Now correct me if I'm mistaken, but I think we found a real hero coming to say hello."

[King Tius]

Aurelius bows politely to Father Zantus and blushes when he refers to him as "Sir." Though he has yet to be formerly knighted for his service to Abadar, it would be impolite to correct the older man, especially since he probably knows this just as well as Reli and is just flattering him. At the sight of the approaching party members, Aurelius smiles and waves warmly, though he winces as soon as his hand gets above his head and squints against the light. It's almost cute the way the young man is trying to muscle through his first real hangover.

"Blessing of the Dawnflower upon you all! Cyarra, still up for that walk about later?"

[Feather Sigil]

Standing amongst the many tombstones, somehow the voices of those in and around the cathedral sounded fainter, almost whispers in the breeze, hushed so as not to disturb the dead. Sera couldn't help but silently apologize to her parents for doing nothing to honour their passing, othing aside from weep for them on the way to Sandpoint. After her arrival most of her week was spent practicing Luna's magic and the occasional furtive venture to the Old Light; they made helpful distractions from the torments of her dreams both in waking and sleep, and from properly grieving at all. They deserved so much more than that; if she could somehow return to the pivotal moment they were parted and change things so she was taken and executed in their stead she doubtlessly would. It should have been them who escaped Magnimar, not her, and knowing that she had a chance of seeing them again in the Outer Plane did nothing to change that sentiment.

How could two great and noble people as they be taken from the world while she remained? All she ever did was fail them--fail to live up to them (and Luna), fail to save them, fail to mourn them, fail to live a normal life without them. Sera couldn't even claim any real agency over her situation. Just as the sheriff made clear to her, if she didn't let herself get caught up in this entire goblin unpleasantness then they would investigate her specifically; she would not have indulged the mayor's request otherwise. So here she was, hiding in plain sight once again for all the good it did her, and awaiting the arrival of some great evil she doubted she had any hope of destroying. Whoever was responsible probably remained free in feigned innocence.

Turning from the graveyard, Sera approached the cathedral's east entrance, putting on her best smile--the one she always saved for parties the Scarnettis attended, whenever she had to endure Gradon and his mother's presence just long enough for proper decorum before getting away as quickly as she could. Something in Sera told her that this would not be as simple, but she hoped nonetheless. With any luck this would be nothing more than informing the mayor, then she could leave and...

...and fail them, too?

It wasn't that she didn't want to help, or wanted to see Sandpoint overrun by goblins, but if it came down to some kind of war against the beasts and who-or-whatever commanded them, what good would she be? That was a task for mercenaries, adventurers, Pathfinders, heroes. The rest of them, not her.

Seeing them happily talking and laughing made it easier to dismiss the heartless avengers wearing their faces she had seen last night. As much as Sera wanted to believe that it was only a dream, that none of them would turn against her like that, she couldn't convince herself. Perhaps she truly was that bad of a liar.

"Good morning, everyone. I presume all of us are here for the same reason?"

[Koryander]

Cyarra chuckles and raises an eyebrow at the clearly visible wince etched on Aurelius' face, folding her arms and grinning.


"Blessing of the Dawnflower upon you all! Cyarra, still up for that walk about later?"

Cyarra smiled kindly, yet somewhere in the pit of her stomach she felt guilty. Blessing of the Dawnflower indeed, she was aasimar without faith in the gods... it was like a terrible joke. A walking half-angel with no god to represent her.

At the very least Iomedae had the right ideas about her. Honor, Justice, Valor and defending the weak... not that Cyarra put much stock in the goddess herself, but they were good ideals to follow when your life's profession dealt with killing bad people for mildly good reasons at best. When some person with a sack of money hires you to off a den of bandits, Iomedae's values keeps your eyes on the ball... made you take pause before putting a man to the blade. It made you think if what you were doing was an act of justice, or some rich mans vengeance.

Reality became whole again as she put her thoughts to the side.

The walk! Answer him dumb dumb.

Cyarra gave Aurelius a practiced curtsey, something she learned and spent much time as a young young girl practicing. Her days of nobility were long behind her, but when speaking to a charming man she could at least be respectable.

"I would love to take that walk with you... If anything I'm sorry we're now forced to take it later rather than sooner."


"Good morning, everyone. I presume all of us are here for the same reason?"

Cyarra froze upon hearing miss Rose. A voice she was not expecting. She (gracefully) un-curtsied and turned towards her, mustering the kindest and most welcoming smile she could give. Cyarra could not help but wonder if the heavy heart she witnessed on the bench the other day still remained. Such a quick glance that struck such a heavy reaction upon her, the celestial blood in her veins crying to protect. The dull ache still lingered, but perhaps not as bad. It was no longer just a lonesome girl to protect... it now an entire town's safety that held weight upon her heart.

"Miss Rose, its a pleasure to see you again... you fair well today, I hope?"

[Melquiades]

Clive, over here! Sorry we couldn't get breakfast this morning

Hah, this girl, right? Glad to see she's okay. She went through a bloodbath yesterday and is already smiling like nothing happened. Made of tougher material than she thinks, really. Wonder when she'll realize it.

"Hey there, kid! Don't worry, Lucas was already gone when I got to the White Deer, and I came straight here when I learned that. If anything, I'm glad I didn't miss you and..."




"Now correct me if I'm mistaken, but I think we found a real hero coming to say hello."

"... Cyarra." He smiled. "Hah, I appreciate it, but you can drop the whole hero thing, with who would I drink if I let those green thins kill everyone in the city?"

Great, what are you trying to do, win the Sandpoint's humility prize? People who knew you back then would laugh. Hell, Kendra must be silent laughing right now.

Then, the one called Rose spoke. The one he had to keep an eye on.



"Good morning, everyone. I presume all of us are here for the same reason?"

His tone suddenly changed after seeing her, but he tried his best to hide it. Clive coughed twice to clear his throat before answering to Rose's questions. One of his hands slided to his pocket, while the other took care of an itch behind his left ear. His gray eyes narrowed while he observed her. "I presume. Eik told me to meet Kendra and everyone here. Though I still don't know what is the reason for that."

[Askel]

Zelgiel pushed open the gate and trotted along the path through the Boneyard. He glanced around for the old cripple who maintained the place, but he was no where in sight. To the half-elf's horror, he did see Father Zantus, the mayor, the sheriff, and all five of the others from yesterday already assembled and talking.

What in the- I was trying not to be late! I hurried! I didn't even stop to chat with Aneka, or Katrine, or...

Zelgiel kept his face neutral as he approached, but the corner of his mouth twitched when he met the sheriff's gaze. Somehow, this was Belor's fault. He could feel it. The half-elf cleared his throat as he approached.

"The, ah, premises are clear, sir," he told Hemlock, "And, uh... No eavesdroppers or, erm... goblins... Listening in..."

Zelgiel cleared his throat again, this time much more uncomfortably. Instead of meeting Hemlock's gaze, he turned to smile brightly at the mayor.

"Good afternoon, Mayor Deverin," he said, then nodded politely to everyone else before sidling as subtly as he could behind Clive so as to blend in better with the people already gathered.

[LordHavelock]

Accompanied by Izzabetta and Cyarra, Mayor Deverin and Sheriff Belor both greet Aurelius and Father Zantus in turn, and after an exchange of glances, remain silent until the remaining of Sand Point's impromptu defenders arrive. Father Zantus and the Mayor have quiet smiles, but are clearly feeling the stress of the previous days harrowing events, and at the final arrival of Zelgiel, Sheriff Belor spares only his now customary glower at the half-elf before clearing his throat, prompting the priest to move toward the gates of the cemetery, while the mayor breaks her self-imposed silence. "It is a pleasure to see you all together, and I wish there was more time for formal introductions," She looks pointedly, but kindly at 'Rose' and Aurelius, "But the crowd in front of the Cathedral need to be addressed before tensions get much worse, and there is a more pressing matter still to the safety of the town . . . which is why you are all here." The Mayor nods to Belor who step forwards and addresses the assembled party.

"As last night, I implore you all to remain discreet and refrain from discussing openly those matters we will now be attending." The grim shoanti man begins, "It is important, in light of yesterday, that we not add to any panic, which is why we will be completing the consecration of the Cathedral immediately following the mayor's address. I will be attending along with a full compliment of the town watch, but with those currently manning the walls and currently on patrol, that leaves me with few enough persons I can trust to handle themselves in a tough situation. Which is where you come in." Pausing, for a moment he gives each individual another hard, appraising look, echoing the intense gaze he had leveled at them previously at the White Deer Inn the previous evening. "We're not asking you to take any oaths of fealty or accept positions as deputies, but I'd like to know whether you can be counted on, individually, and together, as our allies.”

Mayor Deverin chimes in again at this point, “Nor would such an alliance be one sided.“ She says, looking a good deal more confident, as she draws from the belt pouch at her side a good sized purse, “As thanks for your heroic actions taken in defense of the Town of Sandpoint, it is my duty and great pleasure to award the six of you, this bounty of no less than three hundred gold pieces.” The mayor smiles as she proffers the purse, letting the weight and sound of the coins speak as loudly as anything, “While I won’t say that I hope for a repeat of yesterdays actions, if you the six of you were to take a more proactive role in any developments to come, both the town and myself would offer what further rewards are due.”

Father Zantus at this point returns, and holds up a heavy iron key, apparently to the gate of the boneyard. “And I believe we know where your first steps in that regard can be taken. After the Sheriff informed me of Acoylte Izzabetta’s testimony and observance of goblins skirting around behind the cathedral, I investigated the cemetery and found the sepulchre which houses the remains of Sandpoint’s previous spiritual leaders had been disturbed. The heavy stone door was ajar, and though I am no tracker, the signs of someones’ passage was impossible to hide in the soft earth there.” With a heavy sigh, he offers the key along side the mayor’s purse, “I did not go into the vault myself, but if the goblins did desecrate it in some way, it would be best if the investigation remained discreet; my parishioners have surely suffered enough for the coming weeks.”

Sheriff Belor nods in assent, “While we are addressing the town assembly, we are asking the six of you, or whoever amongst you feels they might take on this responsibility, to investigate the vault, and report to us your findings.” The sheriff’s features soften as he turns specifically to look at old man Boonie, “Clive, this town owes you more than enough gratitude lifetime, and after what it cost you, I can’t fault you for wanting something quieter, or even going back to drink.” The sheriff’s features harden as he cracks the slightest of smiles, “But I yesterdays attack was not that night a year ago, and I’d be willing to stake my own career as sheriff that it brought out the best in you again.” The Sheriff then turns to Zeligel, his customary glower for the lackadaisical half-elf more of an impulse than he can suppress. “And the same goes for you Watchman Lowstring.”

As if to clarify, he takes a step forward and with a swift, sudden gesture seizes Zelgiel by the hand and shakes if firmly, clapping Zegs on the shoulder as he does so. “It’s not your fault you didn’t grow up as fast as most everyone else here in Sandpoint, myself included, and damnit Zelgiel you’re too talented to just spend your days guarding the town’s walls, even if there were a goblin attack every week. You slack off twice as much as any of my other watchmen and still manage to outperform most of them in a month.” There’s a certain gleam in Belor’s eyes as he speaks, and his handshake conveys a genuine respect, as well as a strong sense of loyalty to his “old” friend. “Now, I could order you to attend these other folk, keep an eye on them and be the watch’s official agent, but I’d rather a different approach. Consider yourself on independent assignment Watchman Lowstring, until further notice.”

Mayor Kendra nods her approval of Belor’s words as the shoanti man takes a step back and resumes his previous demeanor, “And you Ms. Rose,” She says, glancing briefly at Sheriff Hemlock, “I understand you’re new to our town and yet you took arms in it’s defense rather spectacularly. I also understand that Sheriff Hemlock initially had some concerns about you for what appears to be an unrelated matter, so let me make this official,” She clears her throat and assumes a most magisterial air, “After due investigation, the town of Sandpoint has found you to be totally innocent during your time here, and consider you a citizen in good standing. Furthermore, while the Sheriff is bound to enforce the law of the land, as Mayor, I have a certain amount of say in what exactly that entails, and if you were to prove yourself again an ally of the township, then you would of course have our support against those less in our good graces.” Kendra’s tone is just cryptic enough to leave one wondering how much she might actually know, or else be implying.

“As for our other newcomer,” The Mayor relaxes her manner visibly and turns to Cyarra, “I understand from Belor that you too seek a certain amount of anonymity that our small town can provide, and that your efforts in defending citizens and your companions alike were nothing short of exemplary. I’d be happy then, to do whatever I can as mayor to expedite the acquisition of a home for you, here in Sandpoint, if only so that those other citizens here can rest more soundly knowing you, Ms. Maewood, may be called upon in defense of life and livelihood should dire circumstance require.”

Father Zantus meanwhile regards Izzabetta and Aurelius, lacing his fingers together and drawing them a bit closer to him, “Acolyte Meresis, Sir Stormscale, after much meditation, deliberation, and upon seeking the spiritual guidance of those most revered deities to the town of Sandpoint, I have discerned that the both of you are bound not only to these others, but to a great destiny which has yet to be revealed, perhaps even to the gods. In this age of Lost Omens, I would not presume overly in the reading of signs and portents, but I think you in particular, Izzabetta, have shared in a portion of our Lady Desna’s blessing of reading twists and folds of fate.” The Father’s eyes soften as he regards Izzabetta with a smile, before turning to Aurelius,[COLOR="#669966"][B] “And to you Knight of Abadar, I see the fulfillment of a most worthy charge for the Judge of the Gods, in protecting these other defenders of civilization,” he gestures to the other members of their company, “And ensuring them against corruption.”

It’s clear that this very much a personal request from these three leaders in the Sandpoint community, all of whom now await the six assembled, heroes’ response.

[Recherché]

You know I was kinda hoping that I was wrong about all this fate stuff.

Izzy's eyes are downcast and her voice harsh but quiet.

Heroic destiny is all well and good but it seems like it involves far too much blood and pain far too often. But I guess if have to have a fate all I can do is try to rise up and meet it.

She raises her eyes to reveal a ghost of a smile on her face and nods an affirmation.

I'm not sure what good I'll be, well aside from picking up the pieces when other people get hurt, but if you need me I'll come running.

[Koryander]

“As for our other newcomer,” The Mayor relaxes her manner visibly and turns to Cyarra, “I understand from Belor that you too seek a certain amount of anonymity that our small town can provide, and that your efforts in defending citizens and your companions alike were nothing short of exemplary. I’d be happy then, to do whatever I can as mayor to expedite the acquisition of a home for you, here in Sandpoint, if only so that those other citizens here can rest more soundly knowing you, Ms. Maewood, may be called upon in defense of life and livelihood should dire circumstance require.”


Cyarra cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. In her lifetime, Cyarra has traveled from town to town, city to city. Large cities allowed her to blend in with the crowd, become a faceless member of society... but her celestial blood would call out for a life more rewarding and fulfilling. It was something petty, in her honest opinion, but denying her inner callings would become absolutely unbearable at the worst of times... And so she would travel to smaller towns, villages... and that's when things would take a turn for the worst.

But here she was, and it would be impossible for her not to defend these people as best as she could... so long as she remained of course.

"Your words hold too much weight towards my actions. I did not do nearly as much as you think I did, I was just a face among six other exceptional people. Regardless, I... will do what I can. So long as I remain here in sandpoint, I will defend her people."

She put thought into Mayor Deverin's offer before speaking. "It is not anonymity from the world at large I seek, but from your own people. And for what it is worth, I don't want to remain anonymous forever. There are things about my person that I hope I can share with you in time, but I don't feel comfortable doing so just yet. Please trust me when I say that I hold no ill will towards you or your people, and that what I hide is not... harmful to you or your kin in any way."

At least I think its not...



You know I was kinda hoping that I was wrong about all this fate stuff.

Izzy's eyes are downcast and her voice harsh but quiet.

Heroic destiny is all well and good but it seems like it involves far too much blood and pain far too often. But I guess if have to have a fate all I can do is try to rise up and meet it.

She raises her eyes to reveal a ghost of a smile on her face and nods an affirmation.

I'm not sure what good I'll be, well aside from picking up the pieces when other people get hurt, but if you need me I'll come running.

As Izzy spoke, Cyarra felt that... spurn, that churning of her bloodline pumping through her veins. That overbearing need to protect and shield people from harm. Cyarra gently placed her arm around Izzy again, frowning.

"Maybe I should get that wedding dress after all, huh?" she tried to say jokingly... probably to little avail, though.

She swallowed hard, speaking more serious now.

"First... don't you dare belittle your abilities. 'Picking up the pieces' is a task that should never be taken lightly. In a group like... us..."

She looked around at her new friends and acquaintances... it felt like she foretold some sort of prophecy when she spoke and thought of adventuring parties the prior day. It was almost a shame.

"Ahem, in a group like us. You are the backbone of the entire group, a pillar for the rest of us. And second, if you're not ready for this... if you're not prepared to do something like this then I would be hurt to see it forced upon you. I don't want to see you doing stuff like this if its not what you want."

She looked towards Deverin and Belor in particular, almost in a protective regard on behalf Izzy.

"If anyone here doesn't want this, then I will have to work twice as hard to make up for it. I don't want anyone involved if they don't wish this put upon themselves."

[King Tius]

Aurelius's face flushes from the compliments but he does his best to keep his jaw set and his eyes unblinking as he nods to Zantus. "Your words are most kind, Father. I have been given a great honor already in getting to help defend this town and I would be further honored to keep doing so. Whatever I can do for Abadar and for this town, I will try my best." He looks around at the others. "You've all proven yourselves more than fit to the task already. I couldn't ask for better company. Is there anything we can get started on straight away?

[Askel]

"The vault? But-"

"Didn't grow up?! I'm older than-"

"I don't slack, I-"

And then Hemlock has Zelgiel by the arm. The half-elf blinks at the sheriff, one of his eyebrows creeping up higher on his forehead as he stares at the man.

"In-independent?" he finally sputters, staring at the sheriff like he'd just sprouted wings out of his head, "Uh..."

Zelgiel was a little overwhelmed by everything. Whatever he'd been expecting when he'd gotten out of bed, it wasn't this. He stared suspiciously at the sheriff, waiting for some kind of rebuke, or an order, or a chastisement, or at least a good old familiar, comfortable, friendly, "Zelgiel, get off your arse and do something!"

Nothing.

"Well, uh... Okay then. I guess. I'll just, uh... do that then," he paused, waiting for someone else to say something, then added after Aurelius's inquiry, "Well... If we're really doing this..." He looked again at Hemlock, as though waiting for some remark to the contrary, then continued, "Then we may as well have a look at the vault while we're here, right?"

[Melquiades]

"I... thank you, Belor."

Clive took a good look on the other five people assembled with him for that meeting. He stopped believing in fate a long time ago, so it sounded almost funny to hear those words coming out of Izzy's mouth. Such naiveness... probably came with the youth. And youth was something this group didn't lack, in some way. There were bigger concerns than if they were thrown together by some kind of destiny or superior force moving them like pawns. Can this work? Can we work together?[/I]

There was some truth to the girl's words. Heroism involves far too much pain and blood too often. And yes, if they were gonna do it they would accept that risk, but at this point in his life he knew the difference between courage and stupidity. Or at least Clive thought he knew. They did well defending the town for the first time, but one swallow does not a summer make. Cyarra... fierce, but too reckless. I bet it's not too long until her good nature puts herself and one of us in trouble. Will she stand her position when we need her to? Even if we need to leave someone behind?

And Izzy? If they are right and there was someone behind this attack, goblins might be the least of what we might be seeing from now on. Such a sweet girl, is she prepared for that?. And then there were problems of trust. Belor and Kendra might have dismissed any suspicions on the 'Rose' girl, but it wouldn't be their asses and backs facing her in the middle of battle. The knight of Abadar... a giant -- and that was no figure of speech -- on the battlefield, yes, but as green as spring leafs.

He had his own troubled feelings about himself too. He wondered whether he would be there for them everytime they needed. If the booze wouldn't get the best of him again and then they would be left short of assistance very much needed. Curiously, the only one he didn't worry about was the half-elf. Zelgiel would never lead them -- and they certainly needed a leader, which Clive knew would rise up to the challenge when the time came -- but he could be the foundation of the group, in some way. He had a feeling that this would finally wake Zelgiel form the slumber he had been living in. Some people are not destined for mediocrity. Even if he didn't believe in destiny anymore.

A life of adventuring was no fairy tale. Clive knew he couldn't disregard everything he could see just because of a gut feeling, an instinct, a hunch. But he also knew that that feeling had been proven right time after fracking time. If they lacked everything else, he knew that these people, including him, deep inside had what it took in them. The courage needed to overcome abysmal odds and emerge, if not exactly victorious sometimes, alive. That while others would take what looked like the safest way, they would go all-in. ALL-in.

Clive smiled. He took the rifle from his back and prepared it with gunpowder and a metal bullet. "So, who will lead the way to this vault? My son is waiting for me at the square."

[Feather Sigil]

Now only Sera remained uncommitted. The mayor, the sheriff and the priest looked at her as they awaited her answer, and the glances from the others hadn't escaped her notice. Though Sera kept her sight fixed on the mayor's eyes, what she really saw was the thought of a door leading into a lightless abyss beneath the earth. Going into a tomb filled with the smell of death and dirt and filth and insects was revolting enough, but the door truly seemed a threshold between two different lives, each as uncertain as that darkness.

Trust used to be so easy. It wasn't that long ago that she'd never had to worry about whether or not anyone was trustworthy, it was always clear who was and who wasn't. She almost never had any reason not to trust anyone, for what could they possibly do to her? She could've demanded a platoon of the city watch or hired a band of mercenaries for her protection at any time. But in the end someone still managed to take everything from her, so perhaps she had always been vulnerable, merely shielded from knowing it by a sense of false security. Nevertheless, Sera wanted to trust all of them. She wished she could tell them the truth and ask for their help, but it wasn't only a matter of risking their potential betrayal. The mayor couldn't possibly know who she was and who hunted her. Sandpoint, technically, was still one of Magnimar's colonies despite the autonomy it enjoyed. Would the mayor grant her amnesty even against a demand from Magnimar? Against armed attempts at apprehending her? How could she risk the well-being of Sandpoint for a lone convict?

Yet what other choice was there? Sera had no power here. The sentence and bounty would remain hanging over her head until she found a way to deal with them. The Scarnettis, if no one else, would continue to pursue her. Declining this offer might allow her a better chance of being forgotten but overall it would only make things worse for her. Even had she fled further away from Magnimar she might've ended up in a similar situation. Perhaps that was why Luna wanted her to do something other than run: because all it would end with is her running into a corner with no way out and no one to help her.

And, beyond her own concerns, there was the town and all its people to think about. Accepting this offer would put Sera one step closer to being something she never had any interest in: a mercenary. An adventurer. Plenty of talented youths ended up going on some adventure or another; some even said that until one went out into the world and risked one's life for whatever cause one hadn't lived a full life. To Sera, romping through the messy places of the world wreaking senseless violence on every creature in one's path sounded like an absolutely horrendous time. But she had something most people lacked. Golarion was full of dangerous business, as anyone with even a paltry knowledge of monster lore was all too aware of--step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling what might take them from you. Most people were simply incapable of defending themselves or others from the horrors that lurked just beyond the walls and gates of their homes but, thanks to Luna, Sera was. She could protect these people, and if she was going to be under constant threat either way, better that she did what she could to make a difference.

"I'd be lying if I said the idea of trekking through an underground tomb sounded anything other than dreadful, Mayor Deverin, but I'd also be lying if I said the safety of this town, especially after yesterday, meant nothing to me. I will join the investigation into the vault...and your offer, Mayor, is most appreciated." As Sera curtseyed in thanks, she never averted her eyes--convictions be damned, she was still who she was--but the impact of her words only settled in immediately afterwards and she couldn't help but briefly turn away from the others, taking a couple of deep breaths. I just said that. I just made myself a mercenary for this town...well, no turning back now.

"So, who will lead the way to this vault? My son is waiting for me at the square."

"Might I suggest we lead with steel?" Turning back to face them, Sera looked pointedly at Cyarra. "Who better to face what might await us head-on than our stalwart defender? We will also require some light." Sera shut her eyes and clasped her hands together, almost as if in prayer.


There is more to the night than darkness. As the sun casts shadows upon Golarion, so Somal and the stars, ever floating in the bosom of darkness, light the way through the deep of night. That light is ours to command.

How can I manifest it?

If you sought to pluck the stars or the moon from the night sky, how would you do it?

The night sky...do you mean through yourself?

Indeed, very good. Your shadow alone cannot reach all that lays in darkness. Mastering this lesser power will prepare you to seek dark depths beyond yourself, but for this the Night shall be your link to the stars and moon in Her sky. Reach through me, find the dark light and bring it down to this world.


As she had done before, Sera cast her thoughts into Luna herself. Past the crude matter of the raven, she beheld the infinite umbrous expanse of the night sky, the darkness glimmering with the radiance of uncountable millions of stars. When she opened her eyes again, four of those stars, cantalope-sized orbs of brilliant white light, hovered over her head, having followed her back from the sky.

"These should be sufficient. No need for lanterns or torches."


Sera casts Dancing Starlight (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/d/dancing-lights).

[Recherché]

One, Rose probably isn't even interested women and certainly not you.

Two, Cyarra has expressed signs of interest in you.

Three, you're probably mostly attracted to Rose because she reminds you of Alija except without the crazy.

Four, except based on what the sheriff said Rose is in trouble, certainly not the drama free relationship you're looking for

Five, Cyarra's gorgeous, but she doesn't make your insides twist into knots like Rose and she may have more mental issues than Alija.

Six, you're only in Sandpoint for a few years at most and then its back on the road for you. You can't afford a long term relationship right now. Also neither of them are Varisian, neither of them would be at home on the road and your family wouldn't exactly approve of outsiders. Celibacy would be a good idea right now.

Seven, except Cyarra seems like she's done some wandering in her time. She might be okay spending her life traveling.

Eight, you're talking to yourself in your own head and this entire situation is not your priority right now. The safety of the entire town is at stake, you do not have time for this . . . mess and the sooner you can forget about all this the better





Clive smiled. He took the rifle from his back and prepared it with gunpowder and a metal bullet. "So, who will lead the way to this vault? My son is waiting for me at the square."

Okay lets get this business with the vault over with and then I'll go with you to check on Lucas. Hopefully I won't end up having to break his kneecaps to get him to stay in bed and recuperate.

Izzy's tone is mostly joking but not completely.


When Rose voices her agreement, Izzy sees it sudden and incredibly clear; all the thread so of fate suddenly knotted, no, not knotted, woven into a pattern stretching far, so far. It goes back eons, and this part is only a footnote. A footnote that reverberates across world. The pattern is perfect and too large. It cannot in her head. Too much to fit into such a small mind and above it all a song of exultation. The song rings out in her filling mind and soul, joyful and triumphant and yet painful. Izzy's head feels like its going to collapse from the pressure when suddenly it stops. And all she is left with is a feeling that whatever just happened she was not ready for it and it would return when she was strong enough to handle it.

I'm okay now. Everything's go-

Izzy suddenly realizes that her entire experience only took a fraction of a second. No one else had seen anything.

Uhm, never mind. Lets get going.

She trots off in the direction of the tomb

[Askel]

Zelgiel shrugged at the sheriff.

Well, I gave him a chance to complain. Looks like this is my show now.

The half-elf bowed low to the mayor, then turned to the other two.

"Well then. Mayor Deverin. Father Zantus. Boss," Zelgiel bid, saying a polite farewell, then hurried to catch up with Izzy.

"Hey, so I never got to walk you around town last night," he said, trying to make eye contact with the woman and winking at her, "That, ah... Wasn't very polite of me. I was kind of self absorbed, and then there was the thing with the goblins..."

Zelgiel trailed off, grinning lopsidedly at the young priestess. He resisted the urge to let his eyes wander, paying close attention to her face instead.

"Anyway, you really should pay a visit to the Rusty Dragon. I'd be happy to make up for yestereve's rudeness by taking you there this evening, if you'd like," he suggested.

The way the half-elf carried himself and spoke, it was as though they were not walking toward a vault filled with the dead and, quite possibly, something or someone even less pleasant. He still held all the confidence of a firepelt cougar, but tempered by the proud plumage of a hunting bird's poise.

[Koryander]

"I'd be lying if I said the idea of trekking through an underground tomb sounded anything other than dreadful, Mayor Deverin, but I'd also be lying if I said the safety of this town, especially after yesterday, meant nothing to me. I will join the investigation into the vault...and your offer, Mayor, is most appreciated." As Sera curtseyed in thanks, she never averted her eyes--convictions be damned, she was still who she was--but the impact of her words only settled in immediately afterwards and she couldn't help but briefly turn away from the others, taking a couple of deep breaths.

Cyarra didn't mean to do it, but the response Rose gave the mayor made her stare at the poor raven haired woman like she grew another head. Rose was willingly joining them? But... she could have said no and stayed away from the danger!

As her eyes lingered upon Rose, she turned to Cyarra, startling her.


"Might I suggest we lead with steel?" Turning back to face them, Sera looked pointedly at Cyarra. "Who better to face what might await us head-on than our stalwart defender?"

Cyarra cleared her throat and nodded. "Of course. I have my doubts that this is anything more than a tomb robbing... but I will make sure the path is safe."

The aasimar swallows quickly, and looks to Rose one more time, "Are you certain you're up for this? Beca-"




Okay lets get this business with the vault over with and then I'll go with you to check on Lucas. Hopefully I won't end up having to break his kneecaps to get him to stay in bed and recuperate.

Izzy's tone is mostly joking but not completely.


And there it was... for just... half a second Izzy's eyes went wide. Like she spaced out. So quickly it was hardly noticeable, but it happened none the less.


I'm okay now. Everything's go-

This was starting to seem a bit... weird. "Izzy... are you okay?"



Uhm, never mind. Lets get going.

Of course Zelgiel gives chase... leaving Cyarra to look towards Rose, Aurelius, and Clive, as confused as can be.

"That went right over my head."

She cleared her throat gently and nodded.

"Alright, if we all seem prepared lets head on in."

[Melquiades]

This was starting to seem a bit... weird. "Izzy... are you okay?"

Of course Zelgiel gives chase... leaving Cyarra to look towards Rose, Aurelius, and Clive, as confused as can be.

Cyarra wasn't the only one to notice what had just happened, even if the Mayor, the Sheriff and Father Zantus seemed oblivious to it. Clive could see the worry in Cyarra's eyes, and he thought he should do something about it. It was fortunate that Zelgiel started talking, so the old man tried to seize the moment. Faking an intimacy he knew they didn't share, Boonie approached Cyarra and put an arm over her shoulder, while he whispered with a smile on his face, giving the impression that he was sharing a secret joke of some sort.

"Look, you will forgive me for saying this when we barely know each other, but we both know that girl will have a problem if she spaces out like that in the middle of something. I just want you to know you don't need to worry. I'll be in the back with her and Rose, you just put down whatever is ahead of us." He finished with a little wink, looking jovial and younger. "After all, we need her to sew us back together later, right?"

When Zelgiel stopped talking, Clive recognized his cue to leave their brave fighter alone. He hoped she wouldn't take offense in his comments, he really didn't want her to think that he was looking down on her, specially not after she protected him yesterday. And then he stepped back, waiting for their newly appointed leader to show them the way.

[King Tius]

Aurelius reaches politely for the bag of coins and withdraws his 50g. He smiles pointedly at the mayor and his fellow party members. "I've been meaning to buy myself a real sword, so thank you for this generous reward. If you don't mind waiting, I'd like to stop at a weaponsmith and pick one up on our way to the vault." He takes five of the gold coins out of his hand and offers them to Father Zantus. "My tithe for the temple and a thank you for such a kind reception."

[Koryander]

"Look, you will forgive me for saying this when we barely know each other, but we both know that girl will have a problem if she spaces out like that in the middle of something. I just want you to know you don't need to worry. I'll be in the back with her and Rose, you just put down whatever is ahead of us." He finished with a little wink, looking jovial and younger. "After all, we need her to sew us back together later, right?"

When Zelgiel stopped talking, Clive recognized his cue to leave their brave fighter alone. He hoped she wouldn't take offense in his comments, he really didn't want her to think that he was looking down on her, specially not after she protected him yesterday. And then he stepped back, waiting for their newly appointed leader to show them the way.

Cyarra didn't seem to take offense at all, instead, he squeezed his hand and nodded while looking ahead.

"Yeah... yeah, we'll keep everyone safe."

It was like her mind selectively chose only the good words to hear. But honestly? Maybe it was for the best. It took her a few more lingering moments to let go of Clives hand, nodding.


Aurelius reaches politely for the bag of coins and withdraws his 50g. He smiles pointedly at the mayor and his fellow party members. "I've been meaning to buy myself a real sword, so thank you for this generous reward. If you don't mind waiting, I'd like to stop at a weaponsmith and pick one up on our way to the vault. He takes five of the gold coins out of his hand and offers them to Father Zantus. [B][COLOR="#000080"]"My tithe for the temple and a thank you for such a kind reception."

The hooded Aasimar woman nods gently, "Go, we'll look around outside the entrance a little before you come back. On the off chance that the worst awaits us, I'd rather see us at our best."