Torban Ingpol, Omri Bine, Sergeant Alene Belyr, Prelate Edyna Tinroth, Sister Taicha Lejoti, Curdy Rothiss, Sir Ghaves Ledet
Essess/Bredonshire/Bredon/The Sawtooth Inn
29 Mother/8:09 PM (after sunset)
Weather: 80 F/27 C; No wind; Light rain
Round 0
Liam grinned. "Sounds like the goblins are having a wedding."
“A wedding?” Sergeant Belyr asked skeptically. “Do goblins even have weddings? It doesn’t make sense. We’re hours away from the Cold Woods.”
As the young priestess fully healed Theremin, she returned his smile with a winsome one of her own, and even a little wink, before moving on to others.
Sergeant Belyr turns to Theremin as he approaches, catching his stare. She flushes slightly, noting his handsome half-elven Helveki features, much like her own, and self-consciously runs her hand through her sweaty brown locks again.
"They seem to enjoy using subterfuge, and masquerade as taller people. This may explain the tailor. Not sure about the wedding cake though. Tell me, did many villagers die? And were many goblins killed? Those that made the mistake of coming to this inn didn't fare very well, but this might have escalated the situation. The next raid could be more bloody," Theremin said.
“Lost Paladine, I hope not!” Sergeant Belyr said, making a warding sign with her hand.
The young priestess looked over with a scowl of disapproval on her face.
“No one was killed,” Belyr said. “A few scratches, a lot of injuries from panic and running. And very few goblins killed. They didn’t seem too eager to fight us. Mostly they ran around causing...mischief. Almost like they were trying to distract us.” She shook her head. “I can’t comprehend it. I know very little of goblins aside from fighting Helveki mercenaries in the war with Sir Ledet. These were not mercenaries.”
Omri Bine stamped his cane on the wooden floor loudly. “Do
not use that title for Citizen Ledet, Sergeant!” he demanded. “He is no longer lord of these lands! The citizens rule now! He is no better than the rest of us!”
Sergeant Belyr gave a long-suffering sigh, as if this tirade was not something new. “Yes, si-- Reeve Bine,” she said, giving a little nod of her head toward the older human. “It just slipped out. Old soldiers and new tricks, you know.”
As Coriana paced and stomped near the door, it suddenly flew open and two figures staggered inside. The adventurers recognized one of the figures. It was the large, muscular young man who had been in the inn earlier and left with the beautiful young woman. He was supporting a much older human male in his seventies. The man still looked healthy, except that he leaned on his longsword, still covered in goblin blood, his leg bleeding profusely over the floor as he held onto the younger man for stability.
“Ghaves!” the old priestess gasped as she hurried over. “Sit down!”
“Irene!” the old man gasped, and the young man had a stricken look on his face. The small handaxe at the young man’s side was also covered in blood. “They took Irene!”
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OOC:
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Yes, everyone should be healed fully
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