"Decide how many horses you need, and I will have them loaned to you." The Archdeacon looked at Dain. "A cart should not be a problem, nor most of the tools you ask for. Unfortunately, however, the secular authorities of this town look down on magical artifice, and I fear we have no thunderstones...though I have heard of them, of course. Made by the dwarves, are they not, Dain?"
Shifting his gaze to Kregor, the Archdeacon smiled. "No secular authority has ever feared the gentle hand of a healer, to my knowledge." He paused, frowning. "Perhaps some of the Parthelonian Kings, fearing poisoners or popular uprisings....In any event, no legitimate authority fears its subjects being in good health. Therefore, we can arrange that you carry with you some of the Blessed Waters of Lady Mellador. Shall we say three vials of the Lesser Waters and one of the Greater? Each vial containing enough water to bring aid to three of you? I would give more, but it truth those who come to the Melladorites far outstrip the Church's ability to bring succor."
"About the manticore...." Fellan began.
"Ah, yes, the manticore." The Archdeacon nodded. "It has been many, many long years of men since those beasts were driven to the Grey Hills. If we are to believe Valeriana the Elder, the creature has...what was it...?" He moved the papers, revealing a slim folio of loose-bound sheets. "A triple row of teeth meeting like the teeth of a comb," he read. "The face and ears of a human being, grey eyes, a blood-red color, a lion's body, inflicting stings with its tail like a scorpion...with a special appetite for human flesh." He pulled another volume from his desk, turning it to a page marked with a velvet ribbon.
"Here we have the description of Artagan Thriceborn, who fought manticores when they still infested these lands: The creature has the body of a red lion, with wings like a great bat. It has a face like a man with eyes of blue. Its tail ends in a scorpian's sting, but instead of one stinger it bears poisoned spines along the tail that can be shot like arrows in any direction. Its voice sounds like a blending of pipes and a trumpet, and it will sometimes challenge its prey with riddles before killing."
He closed the book. "Of course, I have no direct knowledge. I have heard nothing of riddles, at the very least. It seems to prefer to hunt near dawn and twilight, but it is canny enough to seek out the homes of herdsmen while they are out hunting it. It has taken mostly livestock, but is clever enough to reach through a window and rob a child from its cradle. I have heard it claimed that manticores have horns, though I believe that to be nothing more than fanciful embellishment. Yet some say the manticore was first born in jungles far across the sea." He waved a vague hand south and east, having no better idea where the ocean lay than any in the room, save that it was hundreds of miles away. His eyes took the faraway look of a scholar who yearns for knowledge that he knows he will never have. "That may be true. Who can say?"
He sighed, then rose slowly. He was not a young man, but talk of old lore seemed to give him a kind of youthful glow. "The name itself means man-eater, I believe. Think of that. Of all the monsters the Elder Gods ever spewed from their grotesque maws, or Infernal Powers ever dreamt into being, this one alone is named for its love of human flesh. Think on that!" He coughed, a racking spasm, and was once more imprisoned by his aged body. He waved one hand irritably. "But you did not ask to hear the ramblings of an old man. You wanted something useful, which, alas, I cannot give you."
Finally, the Archdeacon smiled at Dain. "My friend," he said, "while the Church does not frown on donations, please do not worry about the costs." He indicated the papers on his desk. "I have clerks who worry about costs, and they give me pages filled with numbers so that I may share in their worry. My old heart tells me that you are not seeking equipment to run with, but that you need these things to aid all the people of this town. I would be a poor servant of Mardan if I did not do all that I could to aid you in your endeavors."
OUT OF GAME: I generally do not have most magical items or alchemical items available for sale. If you can find areas where they can be obtained, it is a reward for ferretting the place out. In the Middle World/Lakelands, most people are forced to use torches instead of sunrods, for example.
In the regular game, I also give XP at 1/2 normal rate. Because of the nature of pbp, though, I am using standard XP rates.
