Before they even have returned to the inn, the little group of intrepid defenders of Sandpoint can hear the songs of celebration. As they round the last corner and start down the street, they see the inn overflowing with the townspeople. Someone spots them and a cheer goes up.
"Defenders of Sandpoint," one call is seconded. Another rises up, "Saviors of Sandpoint!" They compete for a moment or two, but Defenders wins out. Before they can even get to the door, mugs of ale are pushed into their hands. Everyone seems to want to pat them on the back and shake their hands.
Coral was well out of her comfort zone, and it showed. She had never been one for large crowds. With her big, red hair, she had always stood out, and the standing-out had never usualy been pleasant. She stuck close behind Aendell as he forged through the crowd, following in his wake.
Somewhere along the way she found that pewter mugs of ale had been thrust into each of her hands and that, now, her finger-nails were holding them both fast, no doubt now with gouges in the soft metal.
With her hands now full, Coral struggled to control her wayward scabbarded rapier, and kept having to slow to disentagle it from the crowd, seperating her from Aendell.
She kept her smile in place and offered 'thank yous' back to the crowd, along with 'I did nothing much. It was the others doing all the work.'
Zak, on the other hand was in the zone. This was, as it were, his jam. Not that he needed the praise, mind you. He didn’t actually care that much about that, but the celebration? That was quite excellent and Zak joined right in with lusty singing or stories.
He frowns as the trail is lost and returns to the town. The hero's greeting is a bit embarrassing and he shrugs off the praise, although he does accept a mug of ale as he enters the inn with the rest.
She had seen how late it was once they started trailing the body thieves. This was nothing that she'd ever done before so she kept quiet and followed the group. When it dead-ended on the road though she couldn't help but grimace. The trip back to town was even worse. The afternoon's exertions getting to her. The lost trail annoying her. The feelings that she'd failed the group somehow depressing her.
By the time they re-entered Sandpoint she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep the day into a new dawn. SHe wasn't expecting to find what they did when they entered the tavern. A boisterous crowd and townspeople thrusting drinks into her hands. Not knowing what to do or how to react she kept close to her safety net, Aendell, then took cues from his reactions. Afterall normally when townspeople was up in arms and wanting something from her it was because she'd robbed them and wanted to catch her. To her this was a new experience.
In the boneyard, when the visitors had discovered a trail heading out of Sandpoint towards the near and deeper forests where the goblins had likely come from: Raven Roost, Tickwood, Shanks Wood, Nettlewood, Mosswood... further? her heart sank a bit. Aendell was preparing to lead them on a days' length journey perhaps? She had been up before dawn so as to enjoy the cathedral rededication ceremony and Swallowtail Festival. It was then about twelve hours' later, and her hopes for enjoyment had evaporated with the afternoon heat. Her purchases had been burned, the ceremony as good as cancelled, and not a drop of ale had past her lips. She was exhausted.
But, she felt some responsibility toward these strangers who had put themselves at risk and had rescued Sandpoint from a far greater tragedy. Could she let them go off on her own? It was a hard decision, and there was only one way to decide.
Reaching into her pouch she drew out her Harrows and with a practiced hand riffled through the deck. She murmured a soft prayer to Desna to show her the answer to her question of the wisdom of her joining the others on their tracking expedition. A moment later she stared down at The Rabbit Prince.
She sighed at seeing the lord of capriciousness, the Rabbit Prince. He who leaped without looking, relishing in blood and glory, his broken sword an indication that risk carried consequences. Chaos. She had had enough chaos for one day. She frowned and tucked the card away.
"I'm sorry, my friends," she'd said, "but it has been a long and disappointing day and I'd sooner see the dawn before finding more goblins. I am afraid I will not be joining you as I am no tracker. My travels keep me to the well-worn roads. I would advise accepting your victory at least for the day but I can understand your desire for closure. I do hope you will return soon, if not tonight then not long after. Farewell."
With a nod to Father Zantus and Sheriff Hemlock, she headed back to The Rusty Dragon. As she did not expect to see Aendell to give him his requested reading, she allowed herself to indulge in any offered drinks and the fantastic creations from Ameiko's kitchen. The curry was brilliantly intense with spice to curl her hair but the wash of cool ale after cool ale carried her to a state of imaginatively exotic bliss. It seemed a perfect time to play to the crowd and turn these well wishes into an opportunity to regain some of the coin she had lost with the purchase of the lost silks and linen and the nodachi with which she still needed practice. But a nagging feeling that the others had gone off into danger without her aid damped her enthusiasm. She sat at the corner of the bar, accepted thanks and congratulations, grudging respect from other Guards, flirted automatically with Ameiko but more as a matter of course and let herself drift into a foggy buzz of fatigue and feasting.
It was a few hours later when a cry sounded through the doors that pierced the fog to her ears and moments afterward, Zachergillan, Aendell, Coral, and Selaim entered, seemingly none the worse for wear. A load floated from her shoulders as they made their way through the pressing townsfolk. She raised her own tankard. The others seemed somewhat discomfited but Zak looked like the cat with a canary.
Cat slid off her stool as she caught his eye and beginning from a stooped position more to his height, she launched into a raucous crowd-pleaser of celebration: The Tale of Cayden, the Accidental God. As each verse added yet another unbelievable apocryphal exploit to Cayden's fame and each chorus became longer and more confused with repeating the final lines of the preceding verses, she found herself barely able to contain her laughter along with the participating crowd.
Catalena Perform: The Accidental God Vryx rolled d8,d6 and got 3, 6 Catalena Perform: The Accidental God, Ace Vryx rolled d6 and got 6 Catalena Perform: The Accidental God, Ace Again Vryx rolled d6 and got 2 Perform: 14
She thought about finding herself a seat once she was in the inn, but knew that if she did, people could place tankards beside her. She resolved to keep standing. With a tankard in each hand, it was going to be hard for wellwishers to offer her more. She found herself a supporting wooden collumn to put her back against and let events swirl around her. The sips she took of her drinks were for show, putting froth on her lips, but negligible liquid in her mouth. She deflected questions she was asked about the fight, pointing out the others and telling of their exploits in the fight in the square. She was a little slip of a girl, she explained, and had been carrying no weapons. All the praise should go to the others.
The crowd was making her uncomfortable. Too many people. Too much noise. Looking around she spied Coral standing with her back to a post. When it seemed like the hundredth hand slapped her back and the third tankard was thrust in her hand, she winded her way through the crowd to stand nearer the slip of a girl since Coral seemed to be having better luck at not having her back pounded to a pulp from thankful townspeople.
Coming up beside the girl she leaned back on the pillar as well and watched the crazy scene before her. She had to yell to be heard over the din as she came up. "Seems you picked one of the safer spots. Mind if I join you?"
It wasn't until Zak joined the guard, Cat she thought her name was, in song did she speak again.
"Why is that name familiar? Cayden Caileen?" she asked her friend.
She watched Selaim work her way over to her and shout a greeting.
Coral nodded assent at the question regarding joining her, and took another notional sip of her beer.
"That song is sung a lot!" she shouted back. "It is a favourite amongst sell-swords. I am sure thay all quietly hope that they too can become an accidental god."
The entire tavern erupts in song when Zak and Cat begin their rendition. By the time they are done, Cat's excellent singing aside, the place is in even more of an uproar. People are most certainly enjoying themselves.
He takes the distraction of Zak and Cat's singing to gratefully wind his way around the edges of the room towards where he sees Selaim and Coral. Nodding to both as he approaches, holding a mug in one hand, he stops nearby and sighs. "I need to get some air", he says. "I prefer my drinking to be social, but not rowdy." He pauses, adding, "I would not object to company, if you would like to join?"
Once outside, he looks left and right and starts strolling in whichever direction seems to hold fewer people. After a moment of silence, he clears his throat slightly and says, "I must apologize to both of you for my performance in the crypt. Dropping my sword is unpardonable, especially while others were in danger." He seems truly embarrassed.
"I didn't even know that you dropped. I was preoccupied." Selaim said relieved that she didn't have to yell. "Anyway its nothing to be ashamed of. Those things hit hard."
The nonchalance of Selaim and Coral to his admission is perhaps even more galling to him. He shakes his head. "I am not sure you understand. It is a violation of my oath. I must find a way to atone. Back at the Paladinate I'd have been whipped until unconsciousness." He pauses, then lifts an eyebrow. "And what was with leaping over my head into the midst of those skeletons?" He asks Selaim.
She expected this. And still was running through the battle in her mind. She could honestly say say she had no idea what she was thinking. Just that she wanted to help.
"I was trying to jump in front of Coral... not the skeletons. And don't ask me what I was thinking. I just knew I wanted to do something." She said sheepishly and a little bit defensively.
"As for your own perceived shortcoming in the fight, you did more to help save us than anyone . Yes you dropped your blade and broke an oath but some oaths can't be taken literally. I nearly dropped my blades after hitting those hard as rock skeletons. Thought they'd be more brittle."
When the song was done and the applause had died down, Cat was certainly not averse to accepting any coin as well. A performer had to pay her rent and all that. Expenses, you know. She lingered for a moment with the slightest hint of expectation but nothing too crass. She then returned to her seat at the corner of the bar, politely tapping on a visiting merchant's shoulder as he had seated himself while she'd been up. She gracefully accepted his pulling out the stool for her and then pulled Zak over to join her, sweetly implying the merchant could continue to enjoy his time somewhere not exactly here.
"Zachergillan," she expounded with the confidence and volume of a truly roaring souse. Then she took another drink of an offered mug and began again. "Zachergillan. My friend. You certainly have brought excitement with you. Have you not?"
She pointed playfully at his nose, then tapped the tip of it affectionately.
"You certainly have. Yes. Ghosts! Goblins! Skeletons! Grave robbers!" Realizing she was a bit loud, she turned to regard a couple bystanders who were listening and then repeated in a stage whisper that was nearly as loud, "Grave robbers!"
Her head lolled a bit and then she leaned it upon her propped up arm.
"I'm beyond exhausted, I tell you," she said as a pause before continuing. "So... anyway. Does this always happen with you and your friends? Where have they popped off to, by the way? It's their party!"
She stretched up from her seat to scan the room but then soon returned to resting her head again, feeling a doze coming on. Or a dance. Either would be welcome, she thought, hazily.
“Well. For the most part this is actually the first time I’ve gone anywhere with this particular cadre of distinguished individuals, so I suppose that would qualify for ‘always’. I would suppose that both Selaim and Coral, from what I know of them back at the home, are not quite the party animal I might be. So I suspect both may be with the other one who is no party animal, our resident Iomidaean. As for the recent oddities, I have the impression that this charming town has been host to way more than its fair share of oddities'!in point of fact enough oddities to suit a much larger town. Or that is the impression I have.”
"Cheer up, Aendell. We won't tell anyone, will we, Selaim." She glanced accross for confirmation, and continued. "And I am sure you can work out some suitable penance that will satisfy both yourself and your god to make up for your learning exerience."
She took a notional sip of her drink. to indicate that she had finished talking.
Cat took a deep and thoughtful, and hopefully sobering breath, before speaking next. The topic, she realized, was not light.
"Well," she said to the gnome cleric, her voice weighty. "It's been quite peaceful while I've been here. Of course, the various noble founding families bicker a bit and the Sczarni have their fingers in things here and there." She paused to make a Varisian gesture of disgust at the mention of the powerful and widespread Varisian criminal "family." "But really things don't get too hairy here. That wasn't the case a few years ago."
She looked around and lowered her voice again.
"You know about the old cathedral burning down in a fire, along with Father Tobyn whose remains were so desecrated today. But you probably don't know about the rest of the 'late unpleasantness' as they refer to it here. Just a couple of months before that fire there were a string of murders. Terrible murders, mind you. Not a crime of passion or a gang war. Nothing like that. No, someone was just out killing. Near every night a new victim. Men, women, children, didn't matter. All hacked up. Hands and feet removed and stacked next to the bodies. And no eyes or tongues."
Catalena suppressed a shudder and took a bracing drink.
"Near thirty people dead including the old sheriff who'd caught the guy in the act. They'd been calling him The Chopper. Turned out to be this fellow who'd lived out at an island near the Old Light. He used to carve birds on some of the houses in town. Beautiful little decorations. Folks called it 'sporting a Stoot' and it was a kind of honor to get one as the guy..." She lowered her voice to a true whisper, "He was named Stoot. Jervis Stoot. He was a bit of a recluse."
She shook her head. "Anyway, turned out he was the Chopper. It was Sheriff Hemlock, back then he hadn't been yet promoted, who chased the trail down. Seems Stoot was in thrall to some kind of demon worship. Killed himself before he was caught. Cut out his own tongue and eyes if you can believe it. Hemlock ordered the house burned to the ground, the killer burned on the beach, the stairs up to the house collapsed. Can't say I blame him."
She shrugged. "So, I suppose you're right. They've had oddities here. And today was supposed to be a day of hope. The new Cathedral dedicated. A chance for these poor folks to finally move on."
“Can’t speak for everyone, but I know I’m in for doing what I can here. Pretty sure Aendell would rather amputate his arm than walk away from this. For all the airs she puts on about being tough, I suspect Selaim has her soft spot. Coral … pretty sure she’ll stick around. If they think they need or want any help, be glad to give it.”
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She sighed at seeing the lord of capriciousness, the Rabbit Prince. He who leaped without looking, relishing in blood and glory, his broken sword an indication that risk carried consequences. Chaos. She had had enough chaos for one day. She frowned and tucked the card away.