Buu runs Scales

[Dimers]

Dearie returns with relief to the inn, among the less-burnt structures in town. She slips in quietly without a fuss and heads upstairs straightaway. "Bed, glorious bed ..."

[Buufreak]

Come the following morning, you are each greeted with a light knock on your doors, and should you answer you'd find no one there. Venturing down the stairs you are greeted by a small statured bar maiden. She smiles softly, and speaks even softer with a whispy voice. "Good, you've risen. Please eat your fill, a small token for the saviors of our tavern and town!" She gestures aside towards a large spread of breads, meats, and ales. "Should you finish, the friendly guard came by, and he spoke that the town meeting should begin within the hour."

[Ridai]

Ruvora sees Val walk ahead. There is a brief moment going "Hm", but she follows soon enough. Drinks are had, as well as a lot (a lot) of scrubbing. No time for a relaxing bath with friends in the end, but at least in the morning, a clean Ruvora emerges from the upper floor with 100% less ogre blood and guts. The bar maiden is appropriately "morning"'d, before Ruvora's eyebrows rise to high excitement ("ooh!") at the sight of the spread, they they are quickly lowered again by the mention of the town hall meeting, down to regular excitement.

"Oi, right... preparations for early morning politics it is," Ruvora sighs, deciding to do just that as she is holding three tankards in one hand, and a stacked board in the other. She will need it all, as parking her ears at a town hall meeting this early will make her burn so much energy on maintaining self-control.

[Dimers]

"Hmm? Politics?" Dearie asks, filling her own plate nearby. "I'm kinda thinking they'll just tell us which direction to find the butts they want kicked. Nobles and bureaucrats don't usually like spending time around adventurers -- disrespectful, messy, smelly -- hey, there's an idea! If you want to get out early, try working up a good sweat before you go!"

[Rakaydos]

"I'd prefer not. Can you make excuses for me? I'd rather not have any limelight in this town." Zar was still nervous about public appearances.

[Zero Prime]

Valaera Thorindottir, Ranger
^{AC: 17 | Fort: 16 | Ref: 12 | Will: 11
HP's: 37 of 37 | Bloodied: 18 | Surges: 7 of 7 | Surge Value: 9 HP's
Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Insight: 10
Conditions: None.}

Valaera walked down the stairs, the aroma of breakfast bringing a slight rumble to her stomach, she found herelf always hungry the day following a battle. She smiled at her companions as she sat down to the breakfast table, "Are we all ready to speak to this town council today, to listen to them tell these fine folks they have nothing to fear." She spoke around a crust of bread, a thick gravy and a rasher of bacon. "Only to have them hire us because they couldn't find their own asses with both hands?"

[Ridai]

Ruvora points at Dearie with a sausage, and waggles it for further emphasis. "Canny strategy right there."

Emptying the second tankard, Ruvora chimes in again. "Best case: whole town hall sits down and shuts up, we just talk to the gobbo and go find their kip, clobber 'em, get loot to gear up, give people less to worry about, and find our next set of exciting problems. Worst case: some high-up vulture tries to force some asinine contract on us with the usual terrible pay, sodding conditions and terms with enough loopholes to screw us over later in some way, followed by twirling their moustache and using us for propaganda and more politics." Ruvora pauses, sighs, and downs the third tankard.

[WaffleLord]

Aeren Tatallaner

Having spent many hours in contemplation and creation of a new tale, the bard steps lightly down the stairs. He approaches the spread and picks through looking for ripe fruit and untarnished vegetables but settling for some tart berries and crusty bread with mushroom spread. "Well, I hope everyone has on their best presentation smiles. We are at an advantage of having put on a splendid show yesterday. Our value on the street's word is running high. There is a bountiful chance of future employment." Hearing the other's moods and attitudes, he blanches and replies, "It's true, we need information from any prisoners, but we must also play things right with the local 'moustaches', as you say. There can be great acclaim for adding our names to the story. And profit."

[Buufreak]

And story, politics, and adventure were to be had!

As you finish your meal, the maiden bids you good day and points you in the right direction of the town hall. Although town hall is a bit short a term. The Hall of Great Valor seems to be part temple, part place of meeting and officiations, and part museum. It stands tall with large stone columns in the front, surrounded by lush and well maintained foliage.

Upon entering, you see the room is set up with a fair few rows of pews, all facing a long table with 4 men sitting at it (although for one, standing in his chair is suffice). These are the Lords of Brindol.

One stands, a rather rotund gent, slightly bristly in the face, and addresses your group. "Ah! The heroes of Brindol! Welcome!" His voice seems high, a mismatch for his size. Those in attendance all give a great cheer and applause. He attempts to fan his hands to encourage everyone to settle in. It takes a bit longer than intended, and he seems slightly frustrated. He clears his throat. "Yes. Well. I am Master Eoffram Troyas, keeper of coin, and elected official of this fine town. Here with me are my fellow Lords. Our Warden, Harrik Orrena, Master of Relations, Karlov Kaal, and Overseer of the Rivers, Errich Haskins. Together, we work to keep this great populous safe. But it appears, as of yesterday, we could certainly do better. You have our eternal gratitude!"

[Dimers]

Dearie gives the crowd a cute little curtsy during the applause, then applies the same to Master Troyas when he says 'eternal gratitude'.

[Ridai]

Ruvora really would have preferred more casual circumstances for meeting the people at large. One of the people on the far end already going through a spiel really doesn't help. If the elf doesn't pipe up soon, she is going to have someone guide her to the holding cells post-haste to get out of this. As is, she manages a nod, directed at no one in particular. And she even manages to have her frown not become as deep at the moment. And to keep her hand off of her hammer.

[Zero Prime]

Valaera Thorindottir, Ranger
^{AC: 17 | Fort: 16 | Ref: 12 | Will: 11
HP's: 37 of 37 | Bloodied: 18 | Surges: 7 of 7 | Surge Value: 9 HP's
Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Insight: 10
Conditions: None.}

Valaera was not impressed by the pomp and circumstance, too much, for too little. However, she played along, "It was not for gratitude that we fought, but for the good people of Brindol," as she spoke she looked to her right, noting Ryuvora's hand hovering over the shaft of her massive hammer. She smirked, whispered, "It appears our Master of Coin is something of a warrior himself?" She mocked, "surely ravaging a roast boar or two, and guzzling down several bottles of wine every evening since his name day?"

[WaffleLord]

Aeren Tatallaner

Stepping forward to try and cut off his associates, the eladrin sweeps up with a bow, and using his best presentation projection, says "Our generous Lords, we thank you for your courteous gratitude! We humbly act in the service of fair Brindoll, much as you have done, to keep it safe and help it thrive. Hail, Warden Orrena! Your guards fought with courage and skill. Greetings, Master Kaal! The returned peace of your great town is very satisfying. Ahoy, Master Haskins! May your rivers plumb deep, run swift, and never flow over. And to you, Master Troyas, a generous introduction and finer honor have ne'er been received." He gives another slight but respectful bow. Gesturing to the party, "I present to you Valalera Thorindottir, Ruvora Sunhammer, and Dearie Hawthorn, each trained in different deadly arts that can break skulls as easily as their charms can break hearts. Our Master of the Mysterious, Zar, is tending arcane obligations elsewhere, as is required of one his esteemed station. I am Aeren Tatallaner," another slight bow,"your servant and speaker for the company. We are adventurers, thankful of the fates' placement to aid you in your defense. We are eager to assist in our own ways to find the reasons behind such an atrocious assault on your highly respected town. Perhaps, with your permission, we may speak to the prisoner your stalwart guards took custody of, to see what we may glean?" With a lowered tone directed at the Lords, he adds with a tilt of his head, "An assemblage such as ours can use methods that may be beneath the honor of your guards yet prove effective."

[Ridai]

Ruvora's eye twitches with building rage at what pours out of Aeren, more and more, in endless bloated waves, squelching over the floor and into everyone's ears in its vile molassy ways, like a drawn-out muffled cry for salvation in the form of a swift hammer to break one's heart through a broken skull.

[Buufreak]

Troyas winces a bit, almost as if he heard the remark. "Yes, well down to business, why you were called here today. These goblins, as you most likely can tell, have become an absolute nuisance. The simple guard post, as many as they are, are already having trouble keeping able bodies to the front line, between wound and capture. Simply, I want them gone. Completely. And I believe my fellow Lords agree that for the right coin, we wish to outsource this task. What say you?

[WaffleLord]

Aeren Tatallaner

A slight smile plays about Aeren's lips. "You have indeed come to the crux of what we are here for. We, too, wish to see this blight erased from your generous town. We shall endeavor to take care of this problem for you for a fair price and, of course, salvage rights, as stands the honorable tradition of our calling. To aid us in bringing this to a quick and satisfying end, we ask for any information of the history of your goblin relations, Master Kaal, some time with your prisoner, Master Orrena, the possibility of swift transport on your rivers, Master Haskins, and Master Troyas, you will be visited by our collector," he says with a nod to each Lord. "With these requests, our bargain is struck." Aeren clasps his hands above his head, touches his forehead, and moves them to his heart in gestures of promise.

[Ridai]

Ruvora's nostrils flare with heavy breaths, and looking at her jaw, one can almost hear the teeth gnashing. Her party and the people around her get the distinct impression of a steaming kettle rising in volume.

[Buufreak]

The Lords pause to look at each other, somewhat in shock and deep impression. Orenna stands, clearing his throat. He speaks with a low, gruff tone. "I didn't expect this to go so quickly. I must approve. You have the full support of my men and constables. We currently have a single goblin in holding, and we are priming him for any and all information.

As for what we already know: These goblins seem to be united under a banner known far too well to our people. They wave the Red Hand with pride, but to what master they serve, we do not know. It is our hopes that the interrogation will yield further, and perhaps better answers as to why they have returned and what they are after.

You are welcome to try to find anything out from him yourselves, but please return to us before you depart to anywhere outside the city. There are a few other things in need of discussing."

[Ridai]

Just as she is about to reach her limit, the... whatever this is ends. Thus, she turns to whatever direction the jail is in, grabs Aeren by the back of his belt, and drags the elf to the prisoner without further ado.

[WaffleLord]

Aeren Tatallaner

"We thank you, generous Lords, for your wise and swift oooofffffff!" The wind leaves his eladrin lungs as he is yanked by his belt. He struggles to maintain decorum with an awkward bow as he rides his heels backwards under the power of a steaming dwarf.

[Zero Prime]

Valaera Thorindottir, Ranger
^{AC: 17 | Fort: 16 | Ref: 12 | Will: 11
HP's: 37 of 37 | Bloodied: 18 | Surges: 7 of 7 | Surge Value: 9 HP's
Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Insight: 10
Conditions: None.}

Valaera laughed as Ruvora's growing frustration with the civilized double speak that was bantered back and forth between the bard and Brindol's ruling council. It quickly boiled over as the Aeren finished the negotiations, dragging the elf towards the stockades where the captured green-skin raider was being held. "So what's the goal here? Get the goblin to squeal on his tribe, find where they are massing and where their supplies are coming from?"

[Ridai]

"Try being nice," Ruvora points to Aeren briefly as she keeps dragging the bard. "get the gobbo to lead us where we need to go, and hopefully he'll switch sides once we are there so he gets clobbered too. If that doesn't work, get to gobbo squealing."

[Buufreak]

Lord Warden instructs a guard troop to escort your party to the barracks and gaol. As told, there is a lone goblin in chains and a chair. His wounds have been bandaged, but a fair number of burst tomatoes strewn about show that he probably hasn't been made the most comfortable, or treated as a guest.

He takes but a look at you and mouths off "I ain't sayin' nothing until you let me out of here!"

[Ridai]

"Neat. Once you're out, you can lead us to your buddies and you're free to go." Ruvora says in return.

[Buufreak]

"Yes, yes. Think little gobbie is dumb lead you right back home. HA!" he says with a spit. "Come back when you want something that actually happen."

[Dimers]

Dearie steps up and slaps the goblin hard across the face. "I wanted that to happen," she says cheerily. "Let's explore what else I want to happen, yes? I don't often get encouraged to burn someone's eyelids off, but since you're so willing ..." As she walks behind the creature, she looks at her companions and mimes twirling a moustache like a melodrama villain.

Spoiler: Intimidate?

Show

Intimidate check to get him to be a bit more forthcoming and a bit less snarky? (d20+3)[6], or add 5 if a threat I wouldn't go through with would be considered a Bluff check. Huh, looks like Dearie isn't trained in Intimidate like I thought. Oh well.

[Zero Prime]

Valaera Thorindottir, Ranger
^{AC: 17 | Fort: 16 | Ref: 12 | Will: 11
HP's: 37 of 37 | Bloodied: 18 | Surges: 7 of 7 | Surge Value: 9 HP's
Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Insight: 10
Conditions: None.}

Valaera shakes her head, proceeds to the goblin and kneels down beside them. "I don't think you understand your situation here," she nodded to the small window that showed the noonday sky. "Your friends, under the banner of this Red Hand, attacked the town, killed their guards, set their homes alight with pitch and fire. We just came from a meeting where they clamored for your blood, thinking goblin's are stupid and do not know the strength of tribe, of clan, of family." She shirked back her cloak, revealing the tattoos that circled her shoulders and biceps.

"I understand loyalty to a tribe, but let me tell you something Greenskin, you have a choice. You lead us to your tribe, convince them to leave Brindol be, if they choose to remain loyal to this banner, they attack. We kill the attackers, BUT, we leave you, we leave your goblin women, your goblin children alive, any that don't fight we spare. Including yourself. You take your women, your children, and those that turn away from this Hand, and make a living for yourselves. Mayhap help rebuild the damage you've done to this town, learn to live with the people of Brindol, and your tribe lives. If you remain silent, we have to assume all goblins are loyal to the Hand, and then you, along with your tribe, your future dies, and if your tribe dies, so do all your unborn kin, leaving you forgotten to your own people, to your gods."

She slowly draws her axe, running her thumb along the edge. "Your choice goblin, death for you and your tribe, or freedom, and a future."

[Buufreak]

"Foolish Tallers. Thinking you understand Tribe and rulings. You don't know about Chief, or rememberings! Being free means only being able to grow the Tribe."

Your words thus far haven't seemed to be the most effective.

[Ridai]

Watching Dearie try to go hard and Val try to reason and Zar and Aeren not doing much, it appears to be Ruvora's turn again. "So, we want something, you want something else. When there is an impasse, we dwarves got a simple way to see who gets their way. We drink." A beat. "You. Me. Lots of tankards. Whoever keels over first loses. If you win, you give this burg the laugh. If I win, you lead us to your kip." Arms crossed, Ruvora taps a finger on a thick, mailed upper arm while waiting for the answer.

[WaffleLord]

Aeren Tatallaner

Hearing the prisoner speak of 'Tribe rulings' and 'rememberings' shakes Aeren's fascination with the brutal tactics. He peels back through his memories for significant happenings among the goblin folk of the region.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

History check - (1d20+10)[15]