Chapter One, Part One: Fires over Brinestump

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TheTick

(remember, it's a Masterwork Chain shirt, not Chainmail.  Just a normal shortspear, not a longspear.)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Porteiro

OOC:  Ah.  In that case, Jeddy will not put it on.

Lotofsnow

Faraway turns to Jeddy.

"I think we can all appreciate the mystery at hand, but, if it is as it seems and the goblins drew the chests from the pond, it is a mystery that has waited for quite some time already. I'm confident it can stand to wait a little longer while we ease the hearts of Sandpoint's residents with news of our accomplishment."

Porteiro



"I'm not sure why there's such a rush to 'ease their hearts', but I agree that there's no rush here.  We can return and report now.  I'm a little weary myself."

"I will come back here tomorrow morning.  If any of you would like to join me, I welcome your company."

SpamHead

"If anyone else wants to come than I'll come too. But I won't come if neither Faraway or Owen wants to come."

Lotofsnow

"What did you need to look at here, Jeddy? Do you intend to follow the drag marks deeper into the swamp?"

SteveRogers

"I'm not the worst of our party here in terms of injury.  Some of the rest of you bore more blade and shed more blood than I.  I leave the decision to you.  If we return to town, we may be able to secure bed and brunch.  And then return to these mysteries when we're more prepared for any impending dangers."

TheTick

"Well, you're a sorry looking lot."  It's early evening when the group gets back to Sandpoint, and Sandru is leaning against a post near the bridge into town.  Seeing Faraway and Owen struggling with the heavy chest, the caravanner walks over and says, "Let me help you with that."

He guides you into the Rusty Dragon, and Ameiko rushes over, scolding Sandru and the rest of you not to bring some filthy box into her place...until she catches sight of the etchings on it.  Grabbing a damp rag, she comes over and before you can fully set it in place, begins wiping it off.  She pauses for a moment, running her fingers over the design, seemingly lost in thought for a moment.  "Where did you find this?"

You can turn in your goblin ears/Gutwad's head while you are in town, too.
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

SpamHead


TheTick

#324
Ameiko pushes a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.  "I don't own a chest like this, but it's definitely from Minkai.  This was in the Brinestump marsh?"
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Phil

Owen is irrationally annoyed at the sight of Sandru, and even more so at the snide comment.  But the paladin says nothing and allows then vagabond to assist.  Sarenrae would not appreciate such petty thoughts.

His heart soars when he sees his friend Ameiko, but the young man swallows down his feelings as best he can.

Quote"I don't own a chest like this, but it's definitely from Minkai.  This was in the Brinestump marsh?"

He bows his head a bit as he talks.  "Yes, my lady.  It was in the possession of the goblin chief, in fact.  It may have been linked to some human remains we discovered in a nearby pond.  Or possibly to a cave in the swamp.  It is not clear to us, as yet.

"Inside the chest were an ornate pin and this...  It is an decorative fan.  It reminded me of the ones that your lady mother would have on display.

TheTick

"Gutwad had this?  So the Licktoad goblins are defeated?  Excellent!  Though it seems their defeat has provided you with another mystery."  If Ameiko hears Sandru speaking to the assembled adventurers, she does not let on.  She's examining each item in the chest in turn, and is startled when Sandru takes the fan and flips it over.  "A map...to ships?  In the marsh?  I wonder how long they've been there."  The tavern owner goes quiet again.

"What's all this, then?  Treasure?" The new voice is that of Koya, the fortune teller having just arrived for dinner.  "Jeddy, be a dear and fetch me some water."  She settles down at the nearest table, and eyes the chest.  Her face is serious, for a moment.  "It's not chance that these things were found now, Ameiko.  The cards don't reveal all, but my gut tells me you were meant to see this now."  She smiles.  "If only as a reminder of your heritage."

Ameiko nods, then turns to Owen.  "I'd like you to investigate these locations.  This chest came from somewhere, and I'd like to see what else is there.  If anything.  I know it's asking a lot."
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Porteiro

Jeddy fetches the old healer some water, silently chuckling to himself at being treated like a young boy by her.

"I agree, Lady Koya.  It was all the rest of them could do to drag me away from this mystery to come back here and rest up.  (Although, truth to tell, I needed the rest more than I was willing to admit.)  I am going back to investigate this tomorrow morning.  I hope the rest of the group will accompany me."

Lotofsnow

Faraway leans just outside of the group. He methodically checks and tightens the straps on his armor.

"I am with you, Jeddy. Tonight, I will pray to Desna for guidance. Perhaps she will provide the means to aid our search if it is her will. Tomorrow, we will unravel this mystery."

Faraway will sleep among the seven stones in Sandpoint Cathedral. I'll be swapping in deadeye's lore spell.

TheTick

Koya smiles at Jeddy.  "Thank you, I'm not as spry as when Sandru was a lad.  I do miss those caravan trips."

"The caravan misses you too.  This current crop of guardsmen couldn't carry a conversation if it came to them in a bag of holding."
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!