Elyra walks over to the whip-wielding goblin to check the blood-stained corpse. Perception 7/17 (inclusive of +2 vs goblinoids). The wound on the goblin's neck is ragged where sharp teeth ripped through sinew and muscle. The force behind the pair of jaws that did the damage is evident; while certainly strong, the creature who killed the goblin could have been a very powerful dog, or perhaps something stronger. Elyra finds no convincing evidence one way or other, save that the "dog" is a fierce warrior, and cunning, for it bides its time to wait for the opportune moment.
Aside from the mortal neck wound, Elyra finds other aspects of the dead goblin to be interesting. For starters, the goblin is a she-goblin. Judging by the breast barding and bones intertwined into the she-goblin's lanky hair braids, the creature is some sort of shaman or warchanter whose role during battle is often to inspire the troops through song. The she-goblin's dogslicer is of the normal quality carried by most goblins, which is to say that the wrong angle on a poor blow would decimate the hilt and mangle the blade. A quick search of the she-goblin's nattered leather pouch reveals a small glass jar with a rusted metal lid, the contents of which look to be a clear green liquid. Other than the studded leather armor worn by the she-goblin, the whip, and the dogslicer, the dead she-goblin also sports a shortbow, a quiver containing 20 arrows, and 20 gold crowns. The gold coins are freshly minted, local, and shine brightly in the late-afternoon sun...quite a prize for a goblin.
[imagel]http://img159.imageshack.us/img159/1149/sheriff.jpg[/imagel]With no other goblins are in evidence, Sandstone lopes westward along Tower street toward the nearby city offices. Padding along the street until the curve of the road allows him to see the city offices building--perhaps a hundred feet away from the bonfire--the tawny collie spots a throng of 40 armed locals, all of them men, and most of them poorly armed. Here and there, the remains of 16 dead goblins litter the cobblestone byway of Tower Street; from the goblin carcasses, it is clear that the town guard has been at work.
The crowd of volunteers in front of the city offices is unorganized but stands murmuring quietly as Sheriff Hemlock, who appears to be in charge, issues orders. As Sandstone and the others approach, the sheriff send knots of men in pairs and threes off into the city in various directions to scour the town for last vestiges of goblin devilry. With each cluster of volunteers, the sheriff sends one official town guardsmen as deputy. [imager]http://img159.imageshack.us/img159/4198/mayorr.jpg[/imager]Kendra Deverin, the mayor of Sandpoint, sands quietly just inside the open doorway of the main city office buiding, nervously fingering a gold signet ring 'round and 'round on one finger.
Sheriff Hemlock looks up and grunts as Grokk, Elyra, Sivan and the others round the bend in the byway opposite the gathering in front of city hall. "You there, you've the look of fighting sorts. We need a hand what with the White Deer. Grover here," the sheriff points the end of a club at a middle-aged man with a shriveled right arm before continuing, "thought he heard sommat amiss over there. I'm sending this lot," the sheriff gestures to the men gathered in the byway, "down ter the junkyard ter see what's what. If yer not badly injured," the sheriff eyes each and nods, sure that no one is hurt, "we'll be needing someone to have a look at the White Deer, just up the road a bit." The sheriff crosses his arms and waits for a reply, clearly expecting a yes. From the darkened doorway, the mayor pushes off the wall and eyes Talashia with interest.
