Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
His mace and shield gleaming like new -- more due to the fact that they haven't actually been used yet, rather than anything he's done to them -- Bufer finally arrives at The Cat & The Fiddle, eager for a hearty second breakfast after the long walk through the snow. He's almost knocked aside as a fuming Tock Chandler slams open the door to the inn with a theatrical flourish.
"Constable Bridger! You dare send your flea-bitten retriever to fetch me?" the bard rounds on the older man, eyes blazing, his every gesture larger than life. "The seed counter wasn't feeling well, and rightfully didn't trust the Glittergoldian to heal him properly, so he told me he'd be heading to bed. He went ahead and gave me that tube so that it could be opened for all to see today."
Constable Bridger glares at the bard.
"I bet. Hopefully Tucker can find out what you've done with the bookkeeper."
"Bridger, am I to understand that you believe me guilty of some sort of non-carnal crime? Let's go straight to Kem House now. My honor cannot stand for such base accusations! The light of Lothian will surely show Renraw Kem there and recuperating from the wounds your deputy failed to prevent and the Glittergoldian failed to heal. Now, if you're done puffing your chest and speaking of that which you know little -- done for now, at least, for that last part may take a long while -- let us move on so that you might get on to something more useful, like telling your daughter she's too young to go to pubs late at night."
"No, you'll stay here. Tucker has orders to round you all up and bring you here for further questioning." The constable glances over at Milos, the party reflected behind him in the bar's mirror. "Something hot to get their brains working, barkeep."
"Further questioning?" Hazel gingerly takes a seat. "I thought you said Tucker gave you a full report last night. What do you think we can add?"
"Perhaps Constable Bridger needs help maintaining his reputation amongst the townsfolk, Haze," Tock says. "He let those awful, dastardly adventurers through, he was unaware of the danger of the burrow, and then we take care of it for him. So, clearly, something must be wrong with us."
Tock rolls his eyes and walks to the rest of the party.
"I brought the tube Kem kept. I dropped by his house this morning and he said to bring it to you all. He didn't have a chance to open it or see what's inside. Anyone care to take a look? Kem'll be sleeping or something all day, I guess."
"Anyone mind if I take a look at it?" Bufer asks, gesturing to Tock with an outstretched hand. "If it's that long skinny thing that robed kobold was carrying around -- which I suspect it might be -- it might answer the question of what those cysts were, and how they done got there."
"Fine with me," Tock says. "Just don't try stealing whatever it is."
As Tock hands over the tube, Bufer raises an eyebrow in response.
"Hello, Pot," the gnome says, "I don't believe we've met. I'm the Kettle."
Shaking his head, Bufer examines the tube carefully before he opens it to see if anyone has tampered with the wax seal or the tube's contents in any way.
"Pardon? I assumed you were talking to the other gnome, priest. I sing. I perform. I impress. I seduce. Look to others for thievery. Now what's the damned thing say already?"
"Hold your horses, hold your horses," Bufer mutters as he examines the tube.
Genuinely surprised to find the wax sealing the tube to be unbroken -- apparently neither Kem nor Chandler thought to open it, as the bard said -- Bufer makes to push his thumb through it to see what's inside. He pauses suddenly with his thumb hovering over the seal, and looks up at the bard with a suspicious frown.
"Wait, what's what say?" he asks. "I haven't even opened it, yet. What makes you think it says something?"
"Come now, Bufer. You've never seen a parchment tube before? Every time I've seen one of these, it held some documents or scrolls or what have you. Not exactly a giant leap of logic to think that this one is probably much like the others. If there's some ale in there, then I will surely be embarrassed by your gnomish wiles."
"There's ale in it?" Emus perks up. "Hand it over, here. I ain't had breakfast yet."
"Chandler, the day you're embarrassed by anything, I'll eat my nugget." Still eyeing the bard warily, Bufer breaks the seal and peers inside. Inside the tube is a single curled piece of parchment.
The constable makes an impatient noise, and the party becomes aware that Milos is watching them from behind the bar and his wife Jana leans against a post marking the beginning of the staircase to the second level. All is quiet, except for the creak of a floorboard on the second floor.
Tock looks around and pauses for a second.
"What?" he blurts out.
Oblivious, Bufer tugs the piece of parchment out of the tube and unrolls it on the table in front of them for all to see.
The constable looks down at the parchment and frowns.
"I can't read that."
"How surprising," Tock mutters. More loudly, "What language is it, oh learned constable?"
Constable Bridger holds up a hand to silence Tock and forestall the others from speaking.
"Since you all are so good at leaving out important information, I think it'd be best if an outsider translated that. Those look like Draconic runes. Jana, is the apothecary's boy upstairs?"
As the tavern keeper's wife heads upstairs to look, Hazel drums her fingers on the table.
"You keep implying that we're hiding something from you, but you won't say what you think it is. Surely you could give us some idea of what you're looking for, so we don't have to spend the entire day shut up inside these walls."
The constable turns towards Hazel, his peg leg thumping on the wooden timbers of the floor.
"Last night, after I sent off the messenger, he came tearing back a few hours later, with a message from the steward himself, asking if you lot had brought back mirrors. He was quite sure there were likely mirrors in that barrow, but strangely, none of you lot mentioned it."
"Would your curiosity have been aroused enough to ask what he was going on about?" Tosh asks. "Mirrors aren't exactly the kind of furnishings you'd find in a burial mound. Didn't it occur to you that it was an odd question?"
"I am the baron's man and the steward is the baron's right hand. If he wants to know something, I will find it out." Ward's eyes turn on the gnome rogue, his white scar particularly bright this morning. "Your people were wiped out here, when the dragon came, because you did not know the value of working together with your neighbors. This barony shall not pass into history like Treeline did."
"Racism is a horrible thing," Tock says in Gnomish.
Bufer looks up at the constable with an upturned eyebrow.
"A curious analogy, sir," he remarks. "These supposed mirrors pose a threat of dragon-sized proportions, do they?"
"You are not the first adventurers to explore a cairn in the barrow," the constable says. "If the steward is this concerned about them, I daresay there's reason. The baron is a powerful wizard, praise Lothian, and knows things none of us do or perhaps can.
"So no, I do not find the analogy curious, especially when your party still has not told all that you know about the mirrors."
He looks over at the stairway, wondering what's taking Jana and Leach's son so long.
"Constable Bridger! You dare send your flea-bitten retriever to fetch me?" the bard rounds on the older man, eyes blazing, his every gesture larger than life. "The seed counter wasn't feeling well, and rightfully didn't trust the Glittergoldian to heal him properly, so he told me he'd be heading to bed. He went ahead and gave me that tube so that it could be opened for all to see today."
Constable Bridger glares at the bard.
"I bet. Hopefully Tucker can find out what you've done with the bookkeeper."
"Bridger, am I to understand that you believe me guilty of some sort of non-carnal crime? Let's go straight to Kem House now. My honor cannot stand for such base accusations! The light of Lothian will surely show Renraw Kem there and recuperating from the wounds your deputy failed to prevent and the Glittergoldian failed to heal. Now, if you're done puffing your chest and speaking of that which you know little -- done for now, at least, for that last part may take a long while -- let us move on so that you might get on to something more useful, like telling your daughter she's too young to go to pubs late at night."
"No, you'll stay here. Tucker has orders to round you all up and bring you here for further questioning." The constable glances over at Milos, the party reflected behind him in the bar's mirror. "Something hot to get their brains working, barkeep."
"Further questioning?" Hazel gingerly takes a seat. "I thought you said Tucker gave you a full report last night. What do you think we can add?"
"Perhaps Constable Bridger needs help maintaining his reputation amongst the townsfolk, Haze," Tock says. "He let those awful, dastardly adventurers through, he was unaware of the danger of the burrow, and then we take care of it for him. So, clearly, something must be wrong with us."
Tock rolls his eyes and walks to the rest of the party.
"I brought the tube Kem kept. I dropped by his house this morning and he said to bring it to you all. He didn't have a chance to open it or see what's inside. Anyone care to take a look? Kem'll be sleeping or something all day, I guess."
"Anyone mind if I take a look at it?" Bufer asks, gesturing to Tock with an outstretched hand. "If it's that long skinny thing that robed kobold was carrying around -- which I suspect it might be -- it might answer the question of what those cysts were, and how they done got there."
"Fine with me," Tock says. "Just don't try stealing whatever it is."
As Tock hands over the tube, Bufer raises an eyebrow in response.
"Hello, Pot," the gnome says, "I don't believe we've met. I'm the Kettle."
Shaking his head, Bufer examines the tube carefully before he opens it to see if anyone has tampered with the wax seal or the tube's contents in any way.
"Pardon? I assumed you were talking to the other gnome, priest. I sing. I perform. I impress. I seduce. Look to others for thievery. Now what's the damned thing say already?"
"Hold your horses, hold your horses," Bufer mutters as he examines the tube.
Genuinely surprised to find the wax sealing the tube to be unbroken -- apparently neither Kem nor Chandler thought to open it, as the bard said -- Bufer makes to push his thumb through it to see what's inside. He pauses suddenly with his thumb hovering over the seal, and looks up at the bard with a suspicious frown.
"Wait, what's what say?" he asks. "I haven't even opened it, yet. What makes you think it says something?"
"Come now, Bufer. You've never seen a parchment tube before? Every time I've seen one of these, it held some documents or scrolls or what have you. Not exactly a giant leap of logic to think that this one is probably much like the others. If there's some ale in there, then I will surely be embarrassed by your gnomish wiles."
"There's ale in it?" Emus perks up. "Hand it over, here. I ain't had breakfast yet."
"Chandler, the day you're embarrassed by anything, I'll eat my nugget." Still eyeing the bard warily, Bufer breaks the seal and peers inside. Inside the tube is a single curled piece of parchment.
The constable makes an impatient noise, and the party becomes aware that Milos is watching them from behind the bar and his wife Jana leans against a post marking the beginning of the staircase to the second level. All is quiet, except for the creak of a floorboard on the second floor.
Tock looks around and pauses for a second.
"What?" he blurts out.
Oblivious, Bufer tugs the piece of parchment out of the tube and unrolls it on the table in front of them for all to see.
The constable looks down at the parchment and frowns.
"I can't read that."
"How surprising," Tock mutters. More loudly, "What language is it, oh learned constable?"
Constable Bridger holds up a hand to silence Tock and forestall the others from speaking.
"Since you all are so good at leaving out important information, I think it'd be best if an outsider translated that. Those look like Draconic runes. Jana, is the apothecary's boy upstairs?"
As the tavern keeper's wife heads upstairs to look, Hazel drums her fingers on the table.
"You keep implying that we're hiding something from you, but you won't say what you think it is. Surely you could give us some idea of what you're looking for, so we don't have to spend the entire day shut up inside these walls."
The constable turns towards Hazel, his peg leg thumping on the wooden timbers of the floor.
"Last night, after I sent off the messenger, he came tearing back a few hours later, with a message from the steward himself, asking if you lot had brought back mirrors. He was quite sure there were likely mirrors in that barrow, but strangely, none of you lot mentioned it."
"Would your curiosity have been aroused enough to ask what he was going on about?" Tosh asks. "Mirrors aren't exactly the kind of furnishings you'd find in a burial mound. Didn't it occur to you that it was an odd question?"
"I am the baron's man and the steward is the baron's right hand. If he wants to know something, I will find it out." Ward's eyes turn on the gnome rogue, his white scar particularly bright this morning. "Your people were wiped out here, when the dragon came, because you did not know the value of working together with your neighbors. This barony shall not pass into history like Treeline did."
"Racism is a horrible thing," Tock says in Gnomish.
Bufer looks up at the constable with an upturned eyebrow.
"A curious analogy, sir," he remarks. "These supposed mirrors pose a threat of dragon-sized proportions, do they?"
"You are not the first adventurers to explore a cairn in the barrow," the constable says. "If the steward is this concerned about them, I daresay there's reason. The baron is a powerful wizard, praise Lothian, and knows things none of us do or perhaps can.
"So no, I do not find the analogy curious, especially when your party still has not told all that you know about the mirrors."
He looks over at the stairway, wondering what's taking Jana and Leach's son so long.