ahayford
First Post
The atmosphere at the Lucky Monkey changes gradually from stunned relief, to mirthful excitement as the guardsmen begin laughing and clapping each other on the shoulder. The guardsman who single handedly slew one of the swarms will not have to buy any of his drinks tonight.
Tamecia leans on her staff, trailing blood on the ground from the deep gash in her leg.
Tank you. You did not know me or me girls...but still you came to help us when know one else did. You and your friend are welcome in me kitchen any time. And don’t let Orin be trickin’ you into paying. That cheap bastard would charge his own mother.
Tamecia lets Caytis brace her as she, the girls, and walk toward the Inn.
Marcus takes a seat on a barrel of salt packed sardines while Valinnan cleans and dresses his wounds. Svexyn reclines in the bed of one of Garthun’s ravaged carts staring up at the stars while sipping some water from his flask. When Nia spots Caytis and Tamecia struggling across the courtyard, she rushes to their aid and helps brace Tamecia’s other arm. When they arrive at the east gate, Caytis and Nia gently lower her to the ground next to Marcus. Nia bandages and cleans the Tamecia’s leg while Valinnan finishes up with Marcus.
Thank you child. I’m sorry I was so nasty to you earlier....I’m used to bein’ judged by people like you for livin’ like city folk. I’ll not forget your bravery and kindness. Quite a trick there with the fire...although Orin will mutter about it for weeks once he realizes you burned up his choice meats.” Tamecia grins through obvious pain.
Adofo approaches Marcus and Nia, his heavy falchion resting across one shoulder. His steely gaze passes over the two before spitting over his shoulder and simply stating,
Not bad for a city boy and a backward native girl.
Adofo turns around and marches back to the other guards, obviously prepared to do some heavy celebratory drinking.
Wilbur and Maavu join the group after marching across the courtyard from the gate. Wilbur looks slightly frumpled and disheveled, but Maavu looks exillerated.
I can’t believe it. You did it. You fought them off. I thought we were done for! Thank you. The entire city owes you debt a of gratitude. You saved the entire stock of food. Listen, I don’t have much to reward you with. I have little gold on me and my stock consists mostly of food and some limited medical supplies. But please, take this with my thanks.
Two of Maavus porters place a large crate and a small crate on the ground next to Maavu. Maavu opens the lid to the small crate revealing 6 vials of red liquid packed in straw.
Curative potions imported from Sasserine. I had intended these to go to my private stock, but I think you can make better use of them then I.
It takes both of Maavus porters to pry the lid off the second, larger crate. Inside, you see what appear to be backpacks.
And also, please take these backpacks. Some nobleman special ordered these imported from Absalom. I’ll just claim they were lost in the attack and send out for another order. He can wait another month or two.
The packs seem very well made. After examining them, you can see how they optimally distribute their load across the entire body, making the wearer able to carrier more before becoming encumbered from the weight. Various hooks and straps adorn the packs for things like canteens, tools, and other adventuring gear.
Orin joins the group, laughing and joking, obviously still high on adrenalin.
We did it friends! We did it. I don’t think this place has seen that much action in decades. I never realized how vulnerable this place had gotten over the years. I’m going to have to contact a mason from Cauldron to see about reinforcing the gates and my walls. Can’t let that happen again. Please....take this...its tonight’s earnings. I’m no fool. Without your help, this place would be a boneyard crawling with those things. There will always be a room for you folks here at the Lucky Monkey.
Orin’s purse lands on the ground with the tinkle of gold coins as he turns and walks back to the inn, whistling a jaunty tune.
The doors of the inn slam open, as a steaming, sputtering dwarven whirlwind bursts into the courtyard.
MY GOODS. WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GOODS.
Garthun surveys his wrecked caravan, and then looks at the relatively undamaged food supplies.
You Maavu. This is your doing isn’t it. I’ll have you up before the council for this!”
Garthun turns to regard the group resting in the courtyard.
And you! You let those creatures have a party with my goods while you protected this fool’s bags of rice. Do you have any idea how much gold each one of those shattered bottles of wine was worth??? Thats imported from Cheliax. Not exactly stuff your grandma makes in her bathtub.
Garthun notices that Marcus is sitting on one of his few intact barrels.
“And you! Get off that....” Garthun squints as he reads the label. “SARDINES? Gods save me. Those damn bugs ate all my cigars and wine, but leave me with stinky fish. You’ll pay for this Maavu. You and your damn heroes here will pay for every last broken bottle and ruined smoke. Mark my words.
Tamecia leans on her staff, trailing blood on the ground from the deep gash in her leg.
Tank you. You did not know me or me girls...but still you came to help us when know one else did. You and your friend are welcome in me kitchen any time. And don’t let Orin be trickin’ you into paying. That cheap bastard would charge his own mother.
Tamecia lets Caytis brace her as she, the girls, and walk toward the Inn.
Marcus takes a seat on a barrel of salt packed sardines while Valinnan cleans and dresses his wounds. Svexyn reclines in the bed of one of Garthun’s ravaged carts staring up at the stars while sipping some water from his flask. When Nia spots Caytis and Tamecia struggling across the courtyard, she rushes to their aid and helps brace Tamecia’s other arm. When they arrive at the east gate, Caytis and Nia gently lower her to the ground next to Marcus. Nia bandages and cleans the Tamecia’s leg while Valinnan finishes up with Marcus.
Thank you child. I’m sorry I was so nasty to you earlier....I’m used to bein’ judged by people like you for livin’ like city folk. I’ll not forget your bravery and kindness. Quite a trick there with the fire...although Orin will mutter about it for weeks once he realizes you burned up his choice meats.” Tamecia grins through obvious pain.
Adofo approaches Marcus and Nia, his heavy falchion resting across one shoulder. His steely gaze passes over the two before spitting over his shoulder and simply stating,
Not bad for a city boy and a backward native girl.
Adofo turns around and marches back to the other guards, obviously prepared to do some heavy celebratory drinking.
Wilbur and Maavu join the group after marching across the courtyard from the gate. Wilbur looks slightly frumpled and disheveled, but Maavu looks exillerated.
I can’t believe it. You did it. You fought them off. I thought we were done for! Thank you. The entire city owes you debt a of gratitude. You saved the entire stock of food. Listen, I don’t have much to reward you with. I have little gold on me and my stock consists mostly of food and some limited medical supplies. But please, take this with my thanks.
Two of Maavus porters place a large crate and a small crate on the ground next to Maavu. Maavu opens the lid to the small crate revealing 6 vials of red liquid packed in straw.
Curative potions imported from Sasserine. I had intended these to go to my private stock, but I think you can make better use of them then I.
It takes both of Maavus porters to pry the lid off the second, larger crate. Inside, you see what appear to be backpacks.
And also, please take these backpacks. Some nobleman special ordered these imported from Absalom. I’ll just claim they were lost in the attack and send out for another order. He can wait another month or two.
The packs seem very well made. After examining them, you can see how they optimally distribute their load across the entire body, making the wearer able to carrier more before becoming encumbered from the weight. Various hooks and straps adorn the packs for things like canteens, tools, and other adventuring gear.
Orin joins the group, laughing and joking, obviously still high on adrenalin.
We did it friends! We did it. I don’t think this place has seen that much action in decades. I never realized how vulnerable this place had gotten over the years. I’m going to have to contact a mason from Cauldron to see about reinforcing the gates and my walls. Can’t let that happen again. Please....take this...its tonight’s earnings. I’m no fool. Without your help, this place would be a boneyard crawling with those things. There will always be a room for you folks here at the Lucky Monkey.
Orin’s purse lands on the ground with the tinkle of gold coins as he turns and walks back to the inn, whistling a jaunty tune.
The doors of the inn slam open, as a steaming, sputtering dwarven whirlwind bursts into the courtyard.
MY GOODS. WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GOODS.
Garthun surveys his wrecked caravan, and then looks at the relatively undamaged food supplies.
You Maavu. This is your doing isn’t it. I’ll have you up before the council for this!”
Garthun turns to regard the group resting in the courtyard.
And you! You let those creatures have a party with my goods while you protected this fool’s bags of rice. Do you have any idea how much gold each one of those shattered bottles of wine was worth??? Thats imported from Cheliax. Not exactly stuff your grandma makes in her bathtub.
Garthun notices that Marcus is sitting on one of his few intact barrels.
“And you! Get off that....” Garthun squints as he reads the label. “SARDINES? Gods save me. Those damn bugs ate all my cigars and wine, but leave me with stinky fish. You’ll pay for this Maavu. You and your damn heroes here will pay for every last broken bottle and ruined smoke. Mark my words.
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