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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7055636" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 8</p><p></p><p>The bell attached to the top of the door announced their arrival with a tinny jingle. The shopkeeper emerged from the back room with a pile of winter coats tucked under his arm. He broke into a smile as he recognized Bredan and Glori, though that grin faltered a bit as Quellan and Kosk followed them through the door.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, Bredan, Glori, it’s good to see you. And your… friends?”</p><p></p><p>“Hi, Tellar,” Glori said. “This is Quellan and Kosk, they’re part of our group.”</p><p></p><p>“Come to purchase supplies for your expedition into the Dry Hills?” the shopkeeper asked.</p><p></p><p>“Does the whole bloody town know where we’re going?” Kosk growled under his breath. They had already had several encounters with Glori’s friends on the way over to the general store, and most of them had paused to offer them luck and safety on their expedition.</p><p></p><p>Glori elbowed him and muttered back, “When you have friends, they express an interest in your life. I don’t imagine you would understand.” To Tellar she said in a normal tone, “We need to be fully kitted out, and we’ve got hard money.” She jingled the purse that Starfinder had given them in a way that had the dwarf rumbling again, something about “easy marks.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, you know you’ve come to the right place,” Tellar said. “We haven’t had many adventurers come through Crosspath of late, but I still remember how to put together an explorer’s pack…”</p><p></p><p>“Just rations, and maybe some rope,” Kosk interrupted. “Can never have enough rope.”</p><p></p><p>Glori turned to face the dwarf. “Look, I’ve done more than my share of traveling,” she said. “I know what you need on the road.”</p><p></p><p>“And I’ve seen more than my share of would-be adventurers fill their packs with junk that ended up dead weight, often literally,” Kosk shot back.</p><p></p><p>Bredan left the brewing argument behind him as he wandered deeper into the shop. The store carried a wide range of common goods, arranged onto aisles of shelving that placed key items on display. He was thinking about the purse that the elf wizard had so carelessly handed them. Fifty gold pieces, more money than he’d ever seen in his life. And that was only half of what his share of the reward would be if he completed Starfinder’s errand and found her magic stone.</p><p></p><p>Fifty gold pieces was two months’ work for a smith. A real smith, like his uncle, not an apprentice like himself. His uncle paid him two silvers a day, a decent wage, and one that had allowed him to spend an occasional evening at the Tusk or another of the local taverns and still put away some coins into his savings. But this was something else entirely. He’d known that rebuilding the Karras smithy would be expensive. That’s why he was here. A good set of smith’s tools could run twenty golds or more, let alone the cost of lumber and glass and cloth and chemicals and all the rest that would be needed to rebuild the business. At least they could pull nails and make hinges and other fittings themselves, once they got the forge running again.</p><p></p><p>But the thought of the money was just a distraction from what was really bothering him. That reality was driven home when he came to the end of the aisle and saw a glass-fronted display case in front of him that was securely locked. Inside, arranged on the top shelf as if directed at him, was a small crossbow. The sight of it was a vivid reminder that they weren’t going on some casual stroll. The Dry Hills were not a safe place, and it was quite likely that they would encounter someone or something who wanted to kill them. That was even leaving aside the apparently homicidal intensity with which these long-dead sorcerers whose property they were seeking protected their secrets.</p><p></p><p>“You should buy that.”</p><p></p><p>The unexpected voice startled Bredan, and he almost jumped. He turned to see Quellan watching him with an apologetic expression. The half-orc was quiet for a man his size, or maybe Bredan had just let his attention wander too much from his surroundings. His uncle said he did that, sometimes. It was a habit he would have to lose, and quickly, he thought.</p><p></p><p>Bredan leaned over and looked at the small tag attached to the bow. “Ah, it’s way more than I can afford,” he said.</p><p></p><p>“Still, I expect it might come in handy to have a ranged weapon on this trip. You do know how to use one?”</p><p></p><p>Bredan remembered the lessons his uncle had drilled into him, the wide range of weapons-both real and mock—that he’d trained on. “Yeah, I know how to use it.”</p><p></p><p>“Well then. I have some extra gold. I will buy it, and you can repay me out of your share of the reward.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan hesitated for a moment, but the cleric’s suggestion made good sense, and finally he nodded. “Okay, sure, thanks.”</p><p></p><p>By the time they finished making all their purchases and exited the shop the sun was almost touching the uneven line of hills to the west. They’d already agreed to spend the night in Crosspath and get an early start the next day. With his pack bulging and his new crossbow perched awkwardly atop it Bredan figured he would need some time to get everything balanced. Glori suggested a stop at one of the local taverns to drink a toast to a successful mission, but the cleric and monk both demurred. But before parting ways Quellan called them over into the shadow of the shop.</p><p></p><p>“In case I forget tomorrow… I have something for each of you.”</p><p></p><p>He produced from his pouch a small box that he opened to reveal four tiny vials enfolded in cotton padding. He handed one to each of them. The vials contained a clear blue liquid that seemed to sparkle in the fading light of the day.</p><p></p><p>“What’s this?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>“Healing potions,” Quellan explained. “A gift from the Abbess. I thought we should each take one… just in case.”</p><p></p><p>“A generous gift,” Glori said. “Thank you.”</p><p></p><p>Kosk accepted his potion without comment and tucked it into a pocket of his robe. Bredan held onto his for a moment longer. His brain couldn’t help but generate scenarios where the contents of the vials might be needed. He flinched when Glori poked him in the arm and nearly dropped his potion. “Isn’t this exciting?” she asked.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7055636, member: 143"] Chapter 8 The bell attached to the top of the door announced their arrival with a tinny jingle. The shopkeeper emerged from the back room with a pile of winter coats tucked under his arm. He broke into a smile as he recognized Bredan and Glori, though that grin faltered a bit as Quellan and Kosk followed them through the door. “Ah, Bredan, Glori, it’s good to see you. And your… friends?” “Hi, Tellar,” Glori said. “This is Quellan and Kosk, they’re part of our group.” “Come to purchase supplies for your expedition into the Dry Hills?” the shopkeeper asked. “Does the whole bloody town know where we’re going?” Kosk growled under his breath. They had already had several encounters with Glori’s friends on the way over to the general store, and most of them had paused to offer them luck and safety on their expedition. Glori elbowed him and muttered back, “When you have friends, they express an interest in your life. I don’t imagine you would understand.” To Tellar she said in a normal tone, “We need to be fully kitted out, and we’ve got hard money.” She jingled the purse that Starfinder had given them in a way that had the dwarf rumbling again, something about “easy marks.” “Well, you know you’ve come to the right place,” Tellar said. “We haven’t had many adventurers come through Crosspath of late, but I still remember how to put together an explorer’s pack…” “Just rations, and maybe some rope,” Kosk interrupted. “Can never have enough rope.” Glori turned to face the dwarf. “Look, I’ve done more than my share of traveling,” she said. “I know what you need on the road.” “And I’ve seen more than my share of would-be adventurers fill their packs with junk that ended up dead weight, often literally,” Kosk shot back. Bredan left the brewing argument behind him as he wandered deeper into the shop. The store carried a wide range of common goods, arranged onto aisles of shelving that placed key items on display. He was thinking about the purse that the elf wizard had so carelessly handed them. Fifty gold pieces, more money than he’d ever seen in his life. And that was only half of what his share of the reward would be if he completed Starfinder’s errand and found her magic stone. Fifty gold pieces was two months’ work for a smith. A real smith, like his uncle, not an apprentice like himself. His uncle paid him two silvers a day, a decent wage, and one that had allowed him to spend an occasional evening at the Tusk or another of the local taverns and still put away some coins into his savings. But this was something else entirely. He’d known that rebuilding the Karras smithy would be expensive. That’s why he was here. A good set of smith’s tools could run twenty golds or more, let alone the cost of lumber and glass and cloth and chemicals and all the rest that would be needed to rebuild the business. At least they could pull nails and make hinges and other fittings themselves, once they got the forge running again. But the thought of the money was just a distraction from what was really bothering him. That reality was driven home when he came to the end of the aisle and saw a glass-fronted display case in front of him that was securely locked. Inside, arranged on the top shelf as if directed at him, was a small crossbow. The sight of it was a vivid reminder that they weren’t going on some casual stroll. The Dry Hills were not a safe place, and it was quite likely that they would encounter someone or something who wanted to kill them. That was even leaving aside the apparently homicidal intensity with which these long-dead sorcerers whose property they were seeking protected their secrets. “You should buy that.” The unexpected voice startled Bredan, and he almost jumped. He turned to see Quellan watching him with an apologetic expression. The half-orc was quiet for a man his size, or maybe Bredan had just let his attention wander too much from his surroundings. His uncle said he did that, sometimes. It was a habit he would have to lose, and quickly, he thought. Bredan leaned over and looked at the small tag attached to the bow. “Ah, it’s way more than I can afford,” he said. “Still, I expect it might come in handy to have a ranged weapon on this trip. You do know how to use one?” Bredan remembered the lessons his uncle had drilled into him, the wide range of weapons-both real and mock—that he’d trained on. “Yeah, I know how to use it.” “Well then. I have some extra gold. I will buy it, and you can repay me out of your share of the reward.” Bredan hesitated for a moment, but the cleric’s suggestion made good sense, and finally he nodded. “Okay, sure, thanks.” By the time they finished making all their purchases and exited the shop the sun was almost touching the uneven line of hills to the west. They’d already agreed to spend the night in Crosspath and get an early start the next day. With his pack bulging and his new crossbow perched awkwardly atop it Bredan figured he would need some time to get everything balanced. Glori suggested a stop at one of the local taverns to drink a toast to a successful mission, but the cleric and monk both demurred. But before parting ways Quellan called them over into the shadow of the shop. “In case I forget tomorrow… I have something for each of you.” He produced from his pouch a small box that he opened to reveal four tiny vials enfolded in cotton padding. He handed one to each of them. The vials contained a clear blue liquid that seemed to sparkle in the fading light of the day. “What’s this?” Bredan asked. “Healing potions,” Quellan explained. “A gift from the Abbess. I thought we should each take one… just in case.” “A generous gift,” Glori said. “Thank you.” Kosk accepted his potion without comment and tucked it into a pocket of his robe. Bredan held onto his for a moment longer. His brain couldn’t help but generate scenarios where the contents of the vials might be needed. He flinched when Glori poked him in the arm and nearly dropped his potion. “Isn’t this exciting?” she asked. [/QUOTE]
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