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.”
He looks upwards and offer a soft prayer that she is right. He has not felt the blessings of Iomedae leave him, so perhaps she is not being as hard on him as he is being to himself.
OOC: Assuming that Aendell, Coral, and Selaim are away from Cat and Zak so they did not hear the chopper story.Please correct me if I am wrong.
Selaim
She leans back and takes another drink glancing at Aendell. After a longer pull she looks around for a place to put the mug. Selaim glances over to her benefactor and the man that she spent so much time on the road. She knows how much faith he has in his deity and that he believes his strength comes from he/she/it. Not knowing what else to do she pats him on the back saying, "I'm sure they have as much faith in you as we do. Probably more."
[OOC: I would agree that hearing the chopper story would be difficult from the outside, specifically when they were trying to get away from the cacophony of the party.]
Inside, the celebration continued to roll on. Libations are flowing, and the townspeople clearly want to thank their heroes, even if some of the heroes have retreated from the inn.
Outside, the trio are clearly trying to stick to themselves, and the people that do depart, The Rusty Dragon, allows them their privacy and wander in different directions as they make their way homeward. The night air has a slight chill, likely from the close proximity of the sea and moisture. Yet it is pleasant out, all things considered. The wind has died down since the sun has departed the sky. A full moon is rising.
"We are probably going to have to stay here until everyone inside falls asleep. If we return to the inn sooner, I cant see us reaching our beds without us being mobbed by well-wishers once more."
She shrugged.
"Or we could sleep in the stable ...?"
Last edited by Pandemonium; Fri 09/02/2422:54 UTC. Reason: Edited a typo
Catalena grinned at Zachergillan and gave him a comradely clap on the shoulder. "Well, hopefully it's all in the past, friend. The goblins were taken care of and so were the skeletons. I think we can relax a little. And in any case, you've only just got here. We'll have to catch a show at the Sandpoint Theater tomorrow."
She yawned. "Speaking of tomorrow, I've got duty in the morning. I think one more nightcap and then it's off to oblivion."
She got Ameiko's attention and ordered a couple glasses of shōchū, neat. She handed one to Zak.
"Try it. She ferments it from the same barley they use for the ale at Two Knight Brewery a couple doors down. I'm sure Cayden would approve."
She saluted him and then sipped the sweet, strong liquor, taking in the scents of nuts and barley, forest and field.
He shrugs. "I can ignore the hubbub. I just needed some fresh air to clear my head and consider my actions. Thank you for your support." He pauses, then looks at Coral. "Not to pry, but with all that's happened the past day or two I am not sure if we ever talked much about ourselves. What brought you here? You don't seem like you'd be very interested in the opening of a Shrine."
Coral smiled sheepishly. "To be honest, I didn't even know there was a shrine to be opened."
"I was just drifting along, as I do. Stay in a place a while, until a caravan comes along, then go with the caravan to wherever it is going, and then stay there a while."
"And repeat."
"It becomes a blur of places in the end. It is the first time I have been attacked by goblins though ... or by skeletons."
"I think Zak is attracting them.The goblins and skeletons and all." She said sarcastically.
"So that is what you've been doing since your master died? Drifting?" Selaim asked the young girl as she glances over.
Trying to remain aware of her surroundings she notices that more and more townspeople were leaving the tavern.
"Looks like the party is dying down some. Not sure it is much quieter in there though." She said as she watched the townspeople heading to their homes.
A particularly raucous song breaks out to illustrate that the celebration in the tavern is far from over. But it dies down after just one rendition. If they listen carefully, they can hear snippets of conversation floating along on the night breezes. To be fair, though they are tired, there is much excitement to be released from the events of the day.
In the inn, a good round of a song that is not well executed is sung in a drunken choir. People enjoy the song, and a man in a blue long coat raises a glass, which the proprietress takes as an indication that the latest round is paid for by the nobleman. They might recognize him as being saved from under a burning wagon during the goblin raid.
During a lull in the din that is the celebration a very attractive young woman saunters up to Zak and Cat.
She offers an engaging smile which may hint at something more than the words slipping past those sensuous lips. She meets both of their eyes and sees which one is more interested in talking to her. (OOC: You tell me who does she approach? Zak or Cat?)
"Oh, my master didn't die. He left," she added matter of factly
"We were near some mountains: I can't remember where; sitting beside our fire whilst the rest of the caravan had a wild party." "He got me to sit close to him and he told me that I had learned well, and that he had taught me all that he could teach: that the rest I would have to work out for myself."
"He gave me an embrace and told me that he would be leaving first thing in the morning, and that, with luck, we would meet again."
"The next morning, when I woke up, he was gone. He had left his horse, and his money, and some bits and pieces. So he did not leave me destitute. And he knew I could take care of myself."
Shayliss offers a warm smile to Zak. "You are so brave! You saved the town today!" She gushes. "I hate to bother you, but my sister Katrine has been," her voice trailed off. After a second, she continued, "has been busy. My father, the owner of the General Store, has been so busy with the goings on that he hasn't been able to deal with a pest problem."
She smiles again a bit wider, "But you are so powerful and amazing; I am sure you could take care of our rat problem with no issues and quickly. We could get back to normal business operations, and my father would be so very happy." She looked him right in the eye. "I would be so grateful." After a moment, she finishes with, "You have no idea."
Assuming Zak doesn't discourage her, Shayliss explains, "The General store has rats. Why just yesterday, I saw one the size of a dog hiding behind a barrel at the far end. My father doesn’t believe me, but I know that he’s just focused on what Katrine might or might not be up to at the lumber mill. And since there’s this handy new hero in town, well, I just thought maybe such a great hero could come back with her to eliminate a few of the dangerous vermin.
Cat, despite her weariness and desire for bed, was not one to pass up an opportunity afforded by a handsome nobleman buying her a drink.
She turned to the buxom redheaded young newcomer and said, "Oh hello, Shayliss. This brave hero here is an old friend, Zachergillan."
She patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure he would be only too happy to see about exploring your lower levels." She flashed him a naughty grin and added, "Just be sure you don't get eaten up. Come get me if you want company."
Then she excused herself, leaving her stool for Shayliss should she desire it, and taking her nodachi and her drink. She had wanted to select something that seemed classy before reaching the nobleman and so had ordered some Taldan fire brandy.
Catalena maneuvered through the crowd before managing a slightly unbalanced performer's bow to the man in blue. She remembered seeing him hiding beneath a wagon as she'd directed her illusory pack of dogs to harry the goblins away from him and the other bystanders.
"You have my gratitude, m'lord," she intoned, using every bit of bardic poise to counteract her drunken state. "Catalena Teodorescu at your service."
He offered her a smile and a nod. A wave of a hand indicates that she can take a seat at his table. It doesn't take much acumen to see that the nobleman has been dipping into his cups quite a bit as well; his eyes are glassy, and his cheeks are offering a good blush. "You are most welcome Catalena. I am Aldern Foxglove," which is a name she has heard. He is a nobleman from Maginmar who comes up occasionally to do a hunt in the forests around Sandpoint.
"I am returning to Maginmar in a day or two. Just one more boar hunt tomorrow, which I hope to snag a tusky fellow." He smiled; clearly, he had hunted before and enjoyed success at such endeavors. "If you and or your companions fancy a good hunt, you would be more than welcome. I, of course, would take care of all the necessaries, mounts, supplies, what have you."
He leans in a little bit once she is seated. "I also want to thank you and your friends for my life. The drinks are merely the obvious thank you, but as much from the town as from I. Rather, I would like to offer you each a monetary reward for your efforts." He furrows his brow for a moment, thinking. "What do you say to 50 pieces of gold each for your efforts? Would that be acceptable?" Despite his evident intoxication, the nobleman is perfectly serious.
Cat knows Tickwood is actually a relatively safe woodland, one well known to be the home of wild boars, deer, large cats, and the rare giant ticks for which the wood is named—but no goblin tribes dwell within its boundaries.
He is silent for a few minutes as they walk, then mentally shrugs. "I was sold by my parents when I was very young. Not exactly sure what they got for me, but I was told later it was a bushel of wheat. I barely remember them", he bites his lip as that is a lie. He remembers them as clear as day. He, perhaps 5 years old, crying and screaming as two soldiers grabbed him and took him away, his arms outstretched, beseeching his parents to save him. To take him back. Asking what he did wrong and promising to never be bad if they'd just get him away from the soldiers. His parents, in his memory, barely looking at him but gushing over a basket at their feet and clapping their hands in glee.
He composes himself and continues. "They took me to the Paladinate and I served there as a scullery boy and servant for years, until I met the qualifications to enroll as a Paladin Trainee."
Catalena sat upright with an affected poise and listened to the handsome nobleman, Aldern Foxglove. She was more a fond observer of woodland creatures rather than a hunter of them but ingratiating herself with a powerful man from Magnimar was not an opportunity to be ignored. Perhaps he might even be relied upon to help her negotiate out of that unfortunate disagreement with the Feste family.
"A boar hunt! That sounds charming, Lord Foxglove! You are certainly courageous to take on such beasts. Perhaps we could convince Sheriff Hemlock that my obligations patrolling Sandpoint for tomorrow might be better served in accompanying our esteemed visitor?" She smiled. "After all, with this recent unexpected arrival of goblins nearby, we should not take any chances, should we?"
She raised her glass of brandy to him when he mentioned the drinks and took a delicate. When he added that he would be throwing in fifty gold pieces for each of them, it took all of her control to not spray it all over the table.
FIFTY GOLD?! she thought, as she smiled cordially and lightly dabbed her upper lip as she put the glass down. That would almost cover the cost of the new sword or make up for her loss on the fabric.
"Oh, that is so kind of you," she replied, again relying on her practiced stage composure. "I believe my friends would be very grateful for the gift. Thank you."
"Good, good," he nodded and raised a glass when she accepted the offer of the gold. "Please let your friends know they are all welcome on the hunt. It is good fun, and the feast afterward can't be beaten. Oh, and of course, let them know about the reward, too. All they have to do is arrange a moment to meet me so that I may arrange for payment. I appreciate your saving my life, and I believe such good service should be rewarded."
She didn't really know how to respond to Aendell's story. So she responded the way she normally did when at a loss for what to say, and stood on her tiptoes to embrace him and gave him a hug.
So her suspicions about her benefactor were true. He was essentially an orphan too. Funny how it had never come up during the caravan. Maybe it had and she just didn't listen to him.
Except he wasn't an orphan. His parents had given up on him. Maybe that was part of the reason he had helped her. That and his insufferable beliefs.
"Well, Princeling, I'd say your parents got the worse end of the deal. You are worth more than a bushel of wheat. All of us be owing our lives to you. Me more than most. Definitely worth more than a bushel."
Catalena finished her drink and smiled. Warmth radiated from her from genuine gratitude at this turn of fortune and the copious amounts of alcohol. She stood and thanked him again, mentioning that she would tell the others of the time to leave for the hunt in the morning.
"Perhaps," she ventured, "such a time would be amenable to you for them to collect their share of your gracious reward, Lord Foxglove?"
If all were agreed, she departed his company to share the news of the offer. First checking to see how available Zak was at the moment, then asking after the others when not seeing them.
He smiles softly at Coral's hug, and chuckles at Selaim's observation, then replies in a serious tone, "Yes. I'd say a bushel of wheat and a couple of apples at least would have been more fair." He sighs, looking around at the fairly deserted streets and the hour getting later. "Perhaps we can head back now and not be swarmed?"
Catalena happily dropped the platinum into her purse and ambled over to where Zak was... reading a book?! Her gleeful expression shifted to amused incredulity.
"Zachergillan," she ventured, tapping him on the shoulder. "I hate to tear you away from what I'm hoping is that beautiful young woman's secret diary of what she'd like to do tonight with you, and draw you back to the raging barnburner in your honor, but I have some exciting news."
She laughed good-naturedly and brightly, and when he was ready, told him of Lord Aldern Foxglove's offer of 50 Sails and the boar hunt on the morrow.
“The young woman wants me to “help her with rats” I might want some company, because I think the rats are not the predator in that situation.” He says wryly.
“I said I’d talk to her tomorrow.”
He pauses another moment.
“A boar hunt? Hunting is perhaps not usually my thing but nonetheless 50 pieces of gold would make my coin purse certainly more weighty.”
Last edited by Art in the Blood; Wed 21/02/2422:19 UTC.
Cat smiled sleepily. "Rats and boars on the morrow, then? I'm not particularly interested in a hunt myself but I can certainly use a friend in high places."
"Plus," she yawned. "I have a credible excuse to get out of patrolling."
Re-entering the Inn he is relieved to see the crowd has thinned out quite a bit, and even several of those present have over-imbibed and are slumped over the tables. Spotting Cat he moves in her direction.
She tagged along behind Aendell, still clutching her relatively untouched takards of ale, scanning the room and being disappointed that so many people were still there.
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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.![[Linked Image]](https://www.dreamlyrics.com/forums/gallery/746/full/19897.jpg)
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