Chapter 3: Magically Delicious

Chapter 3: Magically Delicious

Previously, our heroes traveled to the shore-side town of Somi-Seawell to assist the folk there against local border raids. Pirates from Aquatrane are implicated in the plot to throw off shipments due to Seawell, and with the help of local lizardfolk, the adventurers manage to put an end to Captain Spriggan and her villainous crew.

Now, resting in Seawell, the group reports to Leland-Sir, their official contact in Sesolston, by messenger. Even now, cities in the Kingdom of Somi such as Sesolston and Siegard, the capital, are mobilizing as many extra hands as can be gathered to track down and eliminate raiding parties consisting of Bloodaxe-Tornclaw warriors. A large-scale attack by savage humanoids on the capital during Princess Somi's sixteenth birthday would prove disastrous.

Meanwhile, the town council remains hush on developing discoveries with the Burning Plague, as well as the two items, the strange visor and the strange rod gathered from Holg Bloodaxe's original cliff-side hideout in Chapter 1. Per the group's permission, the council continues holding onto these items, hoping to use them to help solve the growing mystery of why the Jinam Protectorate would possibly have a hand in the manufacturing of such a dangerous biological weapon as the Burning Plague, and why they would possibly endanger one of their inter-Shell allies to do so.

For the time being, however, the group contents themselves with resting in Seawell. The town has come to accept the group, and they find that they are welcome in the inns and taverns. They are in one such tavern now.


The group is currently laying low in Somi-Seawell, awaiting word from Sesolston on when it will be safer to return. After several days of rest and recovery, they are spending the early evening in Seawell's Red Dragoon Tavern. The place is like any typical tavern: Torchlight lines the walls, casting a yellow-orange hue on the large ground-floor room. The solid wooden floorboards creak as patrons walk to and fro. The bar near the back of the room serves as a small diner counter, wet bar, and cash register. There are two doors behind the bar, no doubt leading to a kitchen and storage area in the rear, unseen due to the intervening wall filled with shelves of drinks and ingredients. The bar top ends before the right wall, and in that space is a stairway leading up to the second floor, with rooms in which the group is staying.

The companions look down at their free drinks and meals - hearty ale with seasoned meat and potatoes. 'Tis a good meal... but the lack of fair Mystia leaves the room a little darker than normal.

No one seems to pay the adventurers any mind, although occasionally a passerby gives them a nod of acknowledgment or a small grin. Word has a way of traveling around a town like Seawell, and these people know (more or less) what happened. The barkeep, Ponkal, grunts as he shifts his weight, ambling over to a table to clear it of used mugs and plates and dirty silverware.

"Stay hearty, friends," he says to the group as he passes by. "I know ye lost a good friend, and the poor Kojar family is but gone to the Great Divide now. But times will look up from here. I know deep down you'll be findin' out what happened... and payin' them proper respects. Keep ye bellies full of food and drink and ye blades sharp. Even with the Princess' birthday just around th' corner, I 'ave a feelin' 'tis ordeal is jus' the beginning..." He continues back to the kitchen area with a wooden tray full of dirty dishes.

ooc: Chapter 3... start!

Rasa leans back into his chair and pulls his mug up to his lips. He was glad that everyone was finally healthy again, so they could continue, but frustrated that their minds were still in no shape to continue. Hopefully they'd cheer up soon. All this sitting around drinking and eating was beginning to bore him. As he came out of the battles virtually unscathed, he had spent the last several days training in the woods. Remembering how effective the rolling had been in combat, he put quite a bit of practicing into evasive maneuvers so that he could gain the better ground and upper hand in any situation. And of course, there was a tree with many dagger holes that he made his practice dummy. He even cast fairy fire on a squirrel and scared the living daylights out of it and it's friends. That at least gave him some amusement, but nothing like the excitement of combat.

Rasa sets his mug down, and glances at each of his party members, finally laying eyes on Alterith. "Well my friend, do you have any exciting people that we can go help out? Any farmers to help? Anything?" He knew he was sounding desperate, but he really was getting bored. He came up to this shell to improve his skill, not let it rust.

A forlorn look has been on Krytox' face since they arrived back in Somi-Seawell. He hadn't known Mystia that long. In fact, she had even left the group for a period of time. So why was her death so overwhelming emotionally? All he could think of was the focus in her eyes as she used her blue-hands to heal them. In the time that had passed the group had had meetings with various officials, but they also had time to venture in the small town a bit. In remembrance of their companion, Krytox had found a leather worker who had dyed a pair of fingerless gloves a pale-blue color. Even if her skill could not live on through him, maybe her deeds could.

He pondered this for a bit as he mindlessly ate more than his share of meat. The potatoes didn't appeal to him much, but he still managed to choke some down. His manner was a little less civilized than those around him as he wasn't used to eating with utensils. His clawed hands weren't made for human sized forks and knives, but the situation didn't bother him a bit. He could wash his mess down with a tankard of the ale anyway. Looking up between bites, he realized that Rasa was mid sentence. While he hadn't yet come to trust the Dracen, he was at least tolerant of him. After all, he did come back to the group in their time of need. That was definitely worth something in the lizardman's book.

"Not heard anything. Get fat... lazy... need get work. Leland-Sir have... *humph*" he trails off, trying to think of the right word in Common. His eyes light up as he remembers, "Quest! Maybe he have quest."

Rasa gives a quick glance to the lizardman. He was surprised how far along the brute had come on his speech. It took Rasa FOREVER to learn the common languages of other shells. With all the languages he grew up with at birth, he couldn't imagine having to learn a new language at this point in his life. Besides, if he's talking to his opponents before he kills them, there is clearly something wrong with the situation. Like the pirate fight....... That fight didn't go at all how he wanted it. Next time, he'll have to put a leash on and gag Alterith. That way, maybe they might FINALLY be able to get the slip on an opponent.

Either way, he grins at the lizardman's comment...... After piecing together what was lost in the thick accent.

"Yes, that is a distinct possibility...... or we could check around here and see if anything is going on. Who knows, maybe these folks have heard some interesting tales...... Maybe there is some lost treasure we could go searching for?" He says with a confident grin.

Rasa quickly thinks about how cool it would be to go off in search of something that will benefit the group, and solely the group. However, he knows that this group is way too caring to go off and do something as selfish as looking out for only themselves. Ah well, he might be able to convince them otherwise eventually.

OOC: So i was picturing us all sitting around a table sipping on our mugs, when a funny thought came into my head. Alterith, Krytox, and Rasa are all sitting, but wtf is Squin doing? He'd have a REALLY hard time sitting in a chair ROFL.

RaSa wrote:

OOC: So i was picturing us all sitting around a table sipping on our mugs, when a funny thought came into my head. Alterith, Krytox, and Rasa are all sitting, but wtf is Squin doing? He'd have a REALLY hard time sitting in a chair ROFL.

OOC: Good question. Lemme think for a moment.

Once again Squin only pokes at his meal. The loss of his friend Mystia is still taking quite a toll on him, even though he been warned and accepted the fact that when adventuring people die, whether yourself or your friends, or all. Whenever the townfolk acknowledges him, he puts on a smile, a pained half smile. It is apparent to any who pauses and thinks about it that he is really taking Mystia's death hard. Perhaps it was the fact that she was one of his few friends out here, perhaps it is a yound adventurer dealing with the death of a fellow adventurer for the first time, but more likely, both.

Slowly he realizes the conversation being held by the others around the table. Maybe having something to do would help take his mind off the recent events. Maybe he'll have less time and energy to feel depressed. "I guess doing anything would be good" Squin replies in a low subdued voice, "well, anything that doesn't hurt good honest people." Turning as he talks, he tips over his chair. Shooting out his left hand behind him, he tries to steady the chair but is too late as the chair clatters to the floor noisily. Still standing Squin reaches back and leans over to pick up the fallen chair. Mindlessly he slides it under his belly again, with the back of the chair against his left side. It is obvious to all that it is just for show, especially since there is still some space between the seat of his chair and his belly.

Knowing that he needs to eat to stay healthy and to have energy, he slowly grabs another small piece of meat and potato. Putting them into his mouth, he chews on them intermittently.

Alterith eyes the centaur with an odd smirk on his face. He recognizes the forlorn expression, the signs of a greater depression settling in. Death is not a new fellow to the young halfling. His has been a hard life, full of suffering, both his own and those around him. Lifting his mug, he speaks out over the Dracen and the Blackscale. I propose a toast to the healer of the oceans, Mystia. She was a true friend and a caring warrior. Such compassion is found too rarely in this world. To waste a life mourning for such is to diminish the purpose behind the life. In Sesolston we learned of a number of opportunities to further Mystia's goals. I propose we return there, drop off the supplies we have gathered here at The Den and find a further route to aid and wealth. He adds the last for his friends benefit as he knows Rasa's heart too well to believe he would operate for the good of the deed. He eyes the centaur to see if he is taking the concept to heart. The pain is a good thing, it lets you know you are alive and have connected with another, but to live in constant deference to it is to waste not only your own life but that of the person who you mourn.

"May her scales be dark and her teeth be sharp" the Blackscale chimes in. Smirking to himself realizing that the traditional toast didn't fit Mystia at all. Regardless, he knew it was meant to honor her and the rest could garner as much from his tone. Giving a nod of approval to Alterith he becomes noticeably less dour. A full stomach and a little too much ale might have had something to do with it as well. "Hear! hear!" he exclaims with the rest of the group.

The centaur makes out the halfling raising his mug and saying something. He misses the beginning of the halfling's speech, but understands the general gist of the halfling's gesture. Smiling weakly, Squin reaches for his mug and raises it up as well. Listening to the halfling, the centaur senses that the halfling's words have some truth behind it, and that Alterith isn't just saying things for the sake of it. He files the words of the halfling into the back of his mind when the blackscale speaks up. He'll have to think it over another time. Unfortunately the words of the blackscale is foreign to him. Fortunately, the blackscale's body language and gestures afterwards gave away the meaning.

Soon after the toast and the commotion dies down a bit, Squin starts to ponder a bit. A sudden thought popped into the centaur's head. Perhaps a little momento would help. Help him remember Mystia and the goodness in her. Help him move on. Maybe a little trident, her unique if not favorite weapon. He'll have to go see the local smithy soon. Soon another half smile breaks out across Squin's face. Unlike the other ones, this one is a little more vibrant, less gloomy. "I want to see the local smith. Make a little trident as a momento." Squin says quietly as he looks around the table. His eyes settles on the halfling as he continues "it may or may not help but I want it anyways."

"Aye, we aren't in a hurry that I can tell. Take your time and when you are ready we shall be off for our next great sunset."

Rasa raises his mug to the toast half heartedly. He was way more preoccupied with the pathetic game of darts going on between two humans. Seriously....... how could anyone be so terrible. They could be sober and Rasa could be trashed and he would still beat them....... blindfolded.

"True we aren't in any hurry, but I personally would prefer to get moving as soon as possible. sitting around sulking does only one thing...... make things worse. If we go out and do something, it will help relieve your minds of the sorrow. Plus, I highly doubt Mystia would want us all sitting around mourning her anyway."

Just then, a courier comes into the tavern. He makes no big scene, and yet moves efficiently and quickly through the arranged tables and chairs, almost like a druid stepping through the forest without disturbance. He approaches the table at which the adventurers sit.

"Good sirs," the courier says, "I bring news to you from Commander Sean." His body language says it all as he reaches into a weathered messenger bag and pulls out a letter: Everything will be explained by the contents. "Please excuse me, sirs, if I may be permitted to praise you for your deeds at the lighthouse. The Kojars were a good family." He looks at the group, his eyes only briefly resting over Krytox. Even though the politeness, the group can tell that his impression of scaled, reptilian beasts has changed, if only somewhat, perhaps for the better. "Take good care, sirs. We are fortunate to have you in our town."

The group turns to the letter. Unbinding it and breaking the seal, they read:

"Friends of Seawell,

My gratitude for your deeds. Sesolston continues to request your stay in our town - they are afraid that your presence there might spur any hidden enemies into action. Thanks to your help and the efforts of the Kojar family, I have departed with some militiamen to join the remnant of the lizardfolk tribes to seek the remainder of Captain Spriggan's bandit forces. Leland-Sir informs me of the Tornclaw-Bloodaxe alliance and the murderous burning plague - our men here in town and local allies prepare themselves even now against possible attack.

A request from Leland-Sir in Sesolston: "Dear Friends, I ask you of a personal favor: A man named Gendrew Amnell, one of the Kingdom's retired royal chefs, is designing a new recipe as part of a friendly competition with the other royal chefs to produce yet the greatest feast for our nation. He lives in a secluded cottage not far from Seawell with his wife, the retired wizard Andolyn, and they often prefer their personal privacy. I am concerned for their well-being given the recent developments in these regions - surely even they would find themselves in danger should the vile Tornclaw-Bloodaxe fiends come across their cottage in the woods and seek trouble from them.

Again, as a personal favor, please go and see to their safety, especially during this time. Please ensure that they remain undisturbed as they continue their private work in inventing their new recipe to unfold to the royal chefs during the competition that will take place in Siegard during our fair Princess Somi's birthday celebration. Do whatever they ask of you, but remain nearby in the forest even if they request you not to disturb them.

I have included a map of the surrounding area. As they prefer not to be disturbed, they always disclose three different locations, only one at which their abode will be. Please find them at one of these three locales.

My gratitude to you, adventurers. You will find my payment to you of 100 gp apiece back in Seawell upon your return when the week-long celebration of Princess Somi begins in two weeks, with more for any trouble you may potentially encounter."

"What say? Not read," Krytox says, almost shamefully. It is painfully obvious that he is having trouble making sense of the letter. While his Common had improved for speaking, he could basically only recognize a few written words. Names of types of shops and the like were easy enough, but following a narrative in a letter was too difficult for him at this stage.

"here, let me have it." Rasa snatches the paper off the table and reads it rather quietly to Krytox, as well as the others, because he's not necessarily sure Alterith can read either. What a group he's found himself in.......

After finishing, he says "I say we do it. It'll give us something to do, and help us make a little on the side. Honestly, it looks like they'd prefer that we stay in this area anyway, and it could prove more fun than running into nothing but the city guards that have probably cleared out most of the bandits by now, and creatures that we really don't want to screw with out in that bog. What do you all say, shall we depart at sunrise?"

Alterith just misses the paper which he thought would make a nice napkin. He'd never had much use for paper himself...the writing that others used just confused him. Squiggles and lines were all well and good, but what would they do against an axe? Give him cold hard metal to do his communicating, either as a weapon or a coin.

"Babysitting a couple o' old dodgers in the woods seems right up your alley huh? I always thought these were the things you said were a waste of time? Going soft in your old age huh?" Alterith chuckles. "I'll be ready at dawn with Hubert all saddled up."

Seeing the others funny looks at the new name for his pig, he shrugs. "What, its not like he comes when I call anyway...at least, not unless I call for bacon!" He laughs uproariously at this stupid comment, the ale obviously taking its toll.

"Hey, keep in mind that when you were teething, I was already slitting the throats of the fools who stood in my way. The last missions we've received have been exciting enough, what makes you think this one will be any less? I'm sure if this were merely a babysitting event, he could have easily just sent a guard or two, but no, he recruited us, at 100gp a pop nonetheless. Get your huwhatever ready, and lets go in the morning. Things are looking up, we once again have something to do."

Rasa throws back the rest of his mug, slams it down with a grin on his face, and then walks off towards the door. He even makes a point to stop off where the pathetic humans are playing darts to show them up once, as he puts the dart he picked up right between the two of theirs. (Ranged attack 15 + 4 = 19) At this point, he was headed straight home. He had his blades to polish, and some readying to do. "Bring me on that horizon" He says to himself as he enters the cool evening air. Tomorrow would be a good day indeed.

"Impatient" mutters Squin. "I'm going to look for a smith" says the centaur as he moves to leave. Knocking over the chair again, he picks it put and starts to go on his way. Pausing, he turns back "Someone should pick up a couple of nice loud whistles, preferably attached around something that can be worn around the neck or something. I'll pay for it." With that he takes out 1pp and places it on the table near the halfling and the blackscale. "If it somehow costs more, I'll pay you back." Turning, the centaur heads out.

Squin heads over to the smith, hoping that the smith is still open. If not, he'll pound on the door and until the smith answers and gives the centaur a chance to present his request. "I would like a small trinket in the shape of a trident. I need it by tomorrow sunrise since we're planning on leaving town tomorrow morning running some errand for the Kingdom. I'll pay 2gp upfront now if you'll agree to do it, and 2gp when I pick it up if it is done before I leave town tomorrow morning."

"Ready to go *hic* morning *hic*." The ale was catching up with the lizardman. He had taken full advantage of their situation and seemingly drank his weight in beer and spirits. Krytox gathers his things and returns to the room, leaving a generous tip on his way past the bar. As he reaches the room, he finds his newest acquisition, Wache the guard dog sitting patiently just inside the door. Whomever had trained him had done an admirable job as he didn't show any signs of fear at being faced with the intimidating blackscale. In fact, Wache had already learned to recognize and accept Krytox' friends.

Krytox had snuck some of the leftover meat and one of the larger bones up to the room which he presented to the dog with a friendly scratch on the head. After rewarding his companion, he collapsed on his bed slipping quickly to sleep as he listened to the sounds of teeth grinding on bone.

Alterith reaches into his belt pouch and drops a few coppers on the table, staring in astonishment at the gold and platinum his friends are throwing around. Ah well, it's their money to waste. Alterith stumbles upstairs and into his room. He takes the time to lock the door and lean a chair against it. He then checks the window to make sure it's secure. He doesn't trust the city, that hasn't changed. He checks his belongings then settles into bed for the night. Dreams of a better world fill his night. A small smile sits on his face at the thought of his dark friend doing the honorable thing. It is a rare experience. Usually the dracen is all about the money, but with their recent success, the 100g seems a paltry fee. He doesn't accept that Rasa truly believes this watchdog event will be exciting either. The only possibility seems to be that his heart is coming around, slowly but surely.

Rasa heads back to his own inn, a nondescript one-story affair with no tavern. Quiet, unobtrusive. Just the way the dracen prefers. The others in the group slowly filter their way up the steps to the second floor of the Red Dragoon Inn, and pen up for the night.

Squin's small excursion to the blacksmith's shop is met with silence. Auto-Perception rolled for Squin. The centaur does not hear anything beyond the solid wooden door that leads into the shop and home of the blacksmith. However, Squin feels he must present his case - surely the blacksmith will make an exception for such money?

Squin, you are currently being ignored. If you want to press your case, PM me a Diplomacy check as you raise your voice to hopefully get through to the blacksmith's (probably sleeping) ears.

Otherwise, the night passes smoothly and the group is fully rested, though those who neglected to shed their armor (if applicable) wake up with much unwelcome soreness and stiff joints.

ooc: If you wore armor to sleep and do not have the Endurance feat, you wake up with the fatigued status condition.

FYI, "Perception" is a composite of Spot and Listen.

There had been little chance of a violent encounter the previous night, so Krytox had not bothered bringing more than his teeth and claws. His scales would have provided enough protection if things had gotten ugly. When he awoke, he was glad of the decision the previous night. If he had worn armor or carried weapons, he would've passed out wearing them and felt terrible today. Of course, he was still a little groggy from the drinking and celebration, or mourning - depending on your point of view, of Mystia's life. Wache's ears perked up when he heard Krytox get up clumsily from the bed. The dog had kept watch, napping from time to time, but was always vigilant. Worth every gold... so far anyway, Krytox thought to himself.

The lizardman gathered all his belongings and strapped all his weapons to his waist, back and ankles. His newer armor was of higher quality than the makeshift leather he had previously used. If he encountered another blackscale, they might look down on him for using additional protection, but Krytox had learned his lesson that you can never be too careful. Once everything was assembled, he looked like a one man army - ready for war. Of course, they would make a pit stop at Alterith's hideout and leave their extra possessions behind, as well as Wache to guard over them while they were away.

Krytox descended the stairs, his weapons clanking with every step. A new mission was upon them and he couldn't wait to get started.

RaSa gets up to the door of his room and listens inside. He checks the door for any differences, and then cautiously puts the key in. Cracking open the door, he takes a peak inside, and the proceeds to check for intruders, traps, and any other issues. Phew, everything was in place, he thinks to himself. He then sets up trip wires and little traps to alert him to anyone's presence while he sleeps. MOST people would call RaSa overly paranoid. But when you live your life with many people hating your guts, you have to be to survive. Rasa falls a sleep quickly as usual, but ready to spring up at a moment's notice in case anything happened. He didn't know many people who slept with a knife under their pillow, but he sure as heck was one of them.

4 and a half hours later, Rasa's eyes pop open. DRAT he thinks.....Overslept! that's what happens when I drink too much. The Dracen calmly assembles his belongings..... and all of them. He wasn't planning on returning to this room any time soon. He even removes all the trip wire, best not leave a trace at all. He drops his room key on the innkeep's desk, who was as usual, passed out on the chair at the desk. Who comes into an inn at 4 in the morning anyway? Humans need so much sleep. Rasa felt very fortunate of his Dracen heritage, being that he needs half the amount of sleep as just about everyone else he's worked with..... besides his Dracen allies of course.

He leaves the inn and proceeds through the barren streets of the town quietly to Alterith's hide out. The party was meeting there at sunrise, and he intended to get in his morning workout well before the arrived. Even though they were sent on a babysitting job, He knew that there was more to it. Leland has seen their talents at this point, and wouldn't dare ask them to do something, unless it involved their expertise. After all, he was parting with 100gp a person if this is done, and even the rich mafia lords only paid at most 10gp on a good day to guard their sons and daughters. Today could be an interesting day indeed......

Defeated, Squin goes back to the inn and seeing that his friends are no longer downstairs, he turns in for the night. Waking up next morning he gathers his belonging and prepares himself before wandering down. Upon seeing the blackscale and the halfling, he asks them if they managed to find the whistles.

As the first rays of sun crest the horizon, Alterith rises, gathers his belongings and heads out to the appointed meeting location. He drops a couple of silver pieces with the inn keep for the use of the room and heads out to retrieve his pig. Mounting, he rides out of town enjoying a trail ration breakfast in the saddle. Many would find this uncomfortable, but the barbarian finds the wilds to be much more peaceable than the bustling town.

Krytox strolls up with Wache at his heels. It was a little after dawn and the others were already waiting. The grogginess had slowed his pace somewhat, but he was feeling better with each step back in the wild. If he were arriving at a party, some might consider him fashionably late, though Krytox wasn't one who would normally attend formal events. Despite the disgusted look on Rasa's face, the Blackscale gives a nod to each of them and deposits his extra belongings in the hideout. After a few minutes he reemerges looking less burdened and more energized. The greataxe now rested neatly against a corner inside having been abandoned in favor of the lighter and more versatile morning star. It wasn't quite as menacing, or deadly, but something rang true with the name Thunder being used by a lizardman. Something about thunder-lizard reminded him of dragons and gave him a greater sense of power than the axe ever did.

The always-obedient dog sat waiting for Krytox a few feet outside the entrance. "Watch hut. Hunt ok, but always watch...." he tries to explain to the dog. He tosses the remainder of the meat from the previous night to the animal. The dog waits for the nod of approval and once received begins tearing at the hunk.

With a grin on his face and a gleam in his eye Krytox turns to the others. "Ready now?"

"Do you guys think we should get some sort of alarm system for this couple, like whistles or something? I'm not that experienced in this type of mission of ours, but it seems to me that we may need to stay nearby instead of crowding them and be ready to respond at anytime." After a brief pause Squin continues quietly, "I also failed to get my trident trinket, but that can wait."