Kellan's body seemed to know that this morning was a portentous one, and as such it mercifully spared him from a night of fret and worry. He had slept deep and dreamlessly, a near perfect transition into the light of day and without any of the lingering cobwebs of deaths poor counterfeit.

Padding across the hardwood floor in his bare feet he looked out the window to find that the sunrise was still sometime off. It was these movements that reminded him that yesterday he had stood toe to toe with a man who meant to kill him, and he had come out on top, albeit now sore and bruised. Liseth's magic did literal miracles but his neck still seemed to remember the ferocity of Tsutos blow.

He felt a deep sense of accomplishment as he looked upon his clean and oiled chain mail and his freshly sharpened weapon, the cold forged blade, with all the little imperfections and hammer strikes rippling with the dull reflected moonlight. They were well prepared, well informed and supposedly equipped with the very anathema to this things existence. He could think of little else they could do aside from marching a column of troops down the tunnel.

As he laced up his freshly washed gambison and wriggled into his chain mail he recalled Mayor Deviren's speech. "We shall be prepared" she had said, "We answered the call". As he stuffed his feet into his boots and buckled his broad belt he realized that there was nobody else he would rather have in his position. That if he met death today in that tunnel that he would be alright with that, knowing that it was him instead of somebody else. He had volunteered for this, they had hailed him a hero for less and it would be all that he could do to make sure that he earned it.

No matter what happened, no matter what sickness these beasts spread or disgusting magics were employed he had to keep it together. His friends would need him to hold the line, to strike the killing blow.

"No pressure" he told himself aloud as he slung his pack over one shoulder and hefted his pole axe.

He took one very deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment then stepped out into the hall.

First things first, he would need to check with the guards watching the Glass Works to make sure that nothing had happened in the night, after that if he still had time while Liseth was getting dressed and Pisca and Cato were making last minute plans he might be able to see Shayliss before they left. Ven seemed to have a habit of kicking her out of bed pretty early to get the shop ready for business anyway.

Stepping out into the crisp morning sea air he felt ready, breaking a smile as he watched the first rays of dawn warm the eastern sky.

The gnome awoke wrapped in a tangle of bed sheets, a sure sign that she had wandered the vast expanse of the hummie bed during the night, migrating in rolls, and twists, and flops.  A great glacial force that captured and carried with it all bed sheets in its way."Mumfuggle," she said as she lifted her face up off of the soft white breadth of the bed.  A thick lock of strawberry blonde hair dropped down over her eyes as though in comment.

After the Gnome's Little Toilet, Pisca dressed in her Shoanti Leathers.  For the briefest of moments, the gnome contemplated taking the big Cinderlander hat with her.  In the end, though decided that it would just get in the way of the longspear that Stomper had been so considerate to pick up for her.  For the second time, she checked the leaf-shaped metal point of the spear.  There was still not a trace of cold-iron on it as she had requested.  For the third time, Pisca wondered why.  She also tried on the new belt.  It was quite the smart accessory to her tan and sun-worn leathers.  Dark and well oiled, it also sported a motif of swirling siroccos around its length.  When the gnome strapped it about her waist, her feet seemed to take on a greater sureness.  Her movements appeared more nimble.  It was welcome magic in addition to being a smart fashion accessory.

Geared for the decent into the tunnels, Pisca left her room for the common room below.  A glance before she closed her door, at the sunlight that shone through her window, told the gnome that it shouldn't be long before Lunk brought Chask Haladan for their meeting.  Then, after that, perhaps, she and Cato could stop at Brodie's place and see whether he might have more to say about the Rune Dogs of Wrath.

Character sheet updated with Belt of Tumbling and Longspear.

Cato woke with a start, the nightmares fleeing as his consciousness returned. It had been Lucius Winters, and the Paravicar had chased him through the tunnels beneath the Glassworks. Again and again, Cato flung spells at the man, but he merely laughed as they bounced harmlessly away. The young wizard splashed water in his face and tried to think of other things. He pulled out his spell book, paged through it, and ran his index finger down the list of incantations, choosing what he thought would be most effective.

Cato started with the cantrips, memorizing their easy words in a few minutes. He started on the first actual spell of consequence, deciding on Mage Armor as a safe bet. He was partway through the first line when Winters's haunting laugh came to him again. Cato put down his book and looked out the window, remembering months spent in flight across Varisia. Why these dreams now?  Was something wrong beyond the demon he would face later today?  The demon he apparently was powerless to affect with magic?  Well, Cato supposed he couldn't hurt the demon directly, but he probably could hurt those Rune Dogs. And help Kellan against the Demon.

Cato returned to his spell book, and finished his preparations just as his stomach began to rumble. He packed up his supplies, including the scroll, pearl, and alchemical weapons, placing them carefully atop the explosives in his bag, and set off to see if anyone else was ready for breakfast.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Thu 27 Feb 2014.

By the time the sun peeked up over the horizon Liseth was already kneeling in Sarenrae's wing of the Cathedral, deep in prayer.  Even though she prayed every single day, it had actually been a long time since the young acolyte had done so in an area consecrated directly to the goddess.  She had just not felt wanted there.  But everything was different now that Sarenrae had removed such doubts from Liseth; the girl could actually feel the affection and love that the goddess had for her.

She was happy and at ease.  So much that she could look with confidence on the tremendous task that the day held for her.  And everyone else.

Her prayers today were filled with thanks.  Thanks to Sarenrae for what the goddess had done for her yesterday.  Liseth knew that the gods didn't reveal themselves to people often, and even more rarely did they speak to them directly like that.  And Sarenrae had done all of that and more just to reassure Liseth and let her know that she did love her.

But there was still more than that on her mind, even though the awe took up a lot of the girl's thoughts.  Sandpoint, as it had been ever since the goblin attack, was in her prayers.  Prayers for the people, for those called up into the militia.  Prayers asking to protect the lives of the people and their families when the goblins came again.  And of course, prayers asking that their own adventure down into the tunnels met with success.  Success and that no one was hurt like when they were in the Glassworks yesterday.

Finally, Liseth asked the gods to aid Kerr and help him when he needed them.  When they came face to face with the quasit demon.

Liseth stood from her kneeling position once her prayers were finished.  She was clean and very much refreshed since yesterday; ready to face the trials that the day would present her with.  Or at least, she hoped that she was ready.

Her new dress was already worn; she found it waiting for her right outside the acolyte's quarters when she woke up earlier.  It was heavy, but Liseth had to admit that it was likely to help a lot more than her robes when it came to being cornered by goblins and shot at with arrows.  And it actually fit very well; despite its weight it was one of the best fitting dresses that Liseth had ever worn.  She would have to thank Ms Bevaniky later.

Turning to leave Sarenrae's wing of the Cathedral, Liseth found Kerr already waiting for her; wearing his shining breastplate with his new sword and his longbow.  Her breath caught once more at just how handsomely heroic he looked dressed like that; Liseth smiled grandly for him.  But there was no time to swoon, they had to go and meet the others for breakfast.

"Let me just get the rest of my things first..."  The young blonde made her way back into her room in the acolyte's quarters and quickly gathered up her knapsack; full of things that she hoped she would not have to use.  Her medicine kit, which had come in too useful yesterday, and the new healing wand that she hoped would never need to be used.  As well as a cup and some dried trail rations (just in case!).  Finally, her new small shield made its way into the knapsack.  Liseth made a mental note to rearrange some of these things before they went into the tunnels, so that they would be more accessible

Then she was ready, and the girl left the Cathedral to go to breakfast with her friends.  Escorted through town by her personal hero and protector.

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Kerr awoke to the first rays of the new dawn streaming in the window.  He briefly lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if everything from yesterday had just been a dream and whether it would be terribly un-heroic of him to just roll over and go back to sleep for a couple more hours.  After another minute of enjoying his pillow and the comfort of the mattress, he managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as they touched the cold floor.

He stretched, looking at himself in the small mirror across the room.  Today was going to be a big day.  Kerr wondered if the man he saw in the mirror was going to be up to it, then resolved that he simply was going to have to be.  The gods wanted him to protect Liseth, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

The cathedral was silent as Kerr opened the door, padding across the stone floor to the men’s washroom, where he took a cold bath, scrubbing himself down with soap and carefully shaving.  If he was going to be front-and-center in the town’s consciousness it would be best to look the part, he thought to himself as he attempted to arrange his short, dark hair into something resembling neatness.

After washing up, Kerr walked back across the empty main hall, thinking as he did about each of the good deities and what else they might be doing to counteract whatever plans the dark gods had for Varisia.  He wondered how many heroes the good gods were grooming to fight against their dark brethren’s disciples.

He heartily hoped it was more than just the five of them from Sandpoint.

Kerr grasped his new breastplate in both hands and lifted it up, briefly stopping to contemplate his reflection in its shiny surface.  He wondered whether Savah’s gift was going to be the difference between life and death today.   He wondered what it would look like when he emerged from the tunnels later that afternoon.  He wondered what he would do when the shiny metal was reflecting not an uncertain acolyte but a long-armed, clawed freak crying for the blood of Kerr and his friends.

Kerr knelt down to pray at his room’s small shrine; one that had grown from simply venerating Desna to include Iomedae and finally Erastil.  He prayed to the gods for courage, and strength, and safety for his friends, and wisdom in difficult circumstances.  He prayed with a dedication and intensity born of anxiety.

A gentle voice whispered in his head.  Be not afraid, Kerr Mollin.  For we are with you.

Kerr cocked his head.  He wasn’t sure if he had imagined the voice, but it steeled his heart nonetheless.  The young acolyte stood and strapped on his new breastplate.  When that seemed to be on correctly, he slung the sheathed longsword over his back, the hilt protruding over his left shoulder.  He buckled a leather belt hung with various small pouches around his waist.  He then opened the fine mahogany case that held his longbow and the quiver of crimson-fletched arrows he’d used since he was a boy.  He secured the quiver tight against his back, with the arrows easily reachable over his right shoulder.

Finally, he removed his family’s ancestral longbow from its cradle, admiring it as he held it in his left hand.  He looked at himself in the mirror and was hard-pressed to recognize the man staring back.  He looked like an armored warrior, not the good-natured, let’s-get-along-everyone Kerr Mollin that had always appeared before.

Kerr greatly hoped that appearance made the man.

He was tightening his belt when he stepped out of his room and looked up to see Liseth.  She was absolutely radiant dressed in the special raiment Savah had altered for her.  When she smiled at him, he felt like he was just the luckiest guy in the entire world.

Then he caught himself.  They needed to get going.

“You look beautiful.”  He said to her, bowing slightly and offering her his arm.  “Shall we be off to the Rusty Dragon, milady?  I have it on good authority that breakfast awaits.”

Kerr and Liseth walked through town arm-in-arm, taking their time, enjoying the sight of a Sandpoint seemingly filled with the new promise of morning despite the dire straits in which it found itself.  Other early risers couldn’t help but smile at the picture of Kerr and Liseth walking through town together, seemingly a pair of divinely-touched young people spreading cheer, and hope, and encouragement along their way.  Few there were who left their presence without a smile quirking on their lips and an extra spring in their step.

Finally, the couple arrived at The Rusty Dragon.  Kerr opened the door for Liseth, ushering her into the common room and towards their waiting friends.

The day had begun.

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This message was last edited by the player at 09:50, Thu 27 Feb 2014.

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The Rusty Dragon's common room was not as busy as it had been on some previous mornings.  Men preparing themselves for militia duty had little time for socializing, and most of them had valued sleep over companionship after their brief introduction to soldiering the previous day.

That said, Ameiko Kaijitsu was still up and serving the best breakfast in Sandpoint.  Today there were omelets or pancakes thick with butter and a rich maple syrup, with rashers of bacon and sausage links for those so inclined.  Blackberries made a reappearance as well, their large quantities indicating that they were in season.

Ameiko had a special table set aside for her deputized guests; as party members arrived she greeted them warmly and poured them a steaming hot mug of coffee or cocoa depending on their preference.

Shortly after Kerr and Liseth arrived from the Cathedral, the doors opened to admit Chask Haladan.  The bookseller smiled as he observed those sitting at the table; he doffed his hat as he walked over to greet them.

"Good morning!"  He said.  "Unfortunately Lunk couldn't join me."  His face darkened as he glanced at Pisca.  "Gorvi had . . . need of his services.  But that said, I was successful in my mission to peruse Sabyl's library."  He pulled out a chair and sat down.  "I'm not sure I learned anything terribly useful about Sandpoint's Thassilonian history, but you're welcome to it anyway."

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Kellan's forthright stride through the streets of Sandpoint towards the Glassworks also encouraged passerby, if in a slightly different way than Liseth and Kerr had encouraged them.  Seeing the big guardsman, Ogre Stomp! champion, and local hero walking by in full armor, carrying a wicked-looking polearm, and brimming with confidence gave anyone who might have been despairing hope that Sandpoint had what it took to take care of the threats it faced.  People left Kellan's presence with their heads held higher and a great deal more confidence in their hearts just from knowing that such proud-looking warriors stood watch over them.

Kellan arrived at the Glassworks to find that nothing much had changed.  Sergeant Tiller was there; after a brief conversation Kellan discovered that the shift had just changed.  Tiller said that the graveyard shift hadn't had anything to report other than an occasionally low moan from the tunnel that greatly unsettled the men guarding its exit.  Tiller thought it was probably just air moving through the tunnels.

He was not a man given to fanciful flights of imagination.

Reassured that the town remained unattacked by quasit's freaks, Kellan bid the taciturn sergeant farewell and headed for Ven Vinder's general store.  As he approached the building, he saw Shayliss outside, dressed in a nice-looking blue dress that skimmed along the floor but, as usual with Shay, was rather tight in the bodice area.  The girl looked up from where she was placing the signs for the daily specials and blushed a deep red, putting a hand to her mouth that didn't quite hide her delighted smile.  She gave him a small wave as he approached, now making no attempt to hide her pleasure at his visit.

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"Gorvi is a badger butt," the gnome commented, waving a dismissive hand as though to brush away a small offending thing.  The ill-tempered and abusive, oft-drunk half-orc would have to be dealt with.  But not today.  Not for a while, likely.  At least not while he gave to the town a service that no one else was willing to provide.  Goblin crisis aside.  Hmmm.  Pisca poked a small gnomish finger into the chaotic mass of interlocking gears that had been in residence within her head for as long as she could remember.  With the slightest of touches, she moved one brass cog on its way around the circumference of its wheel and the entirety of the convoluted apparatus groaned to life.

"Have a seat, Mister Haladan."  With a hand, Pisca indicated the chair next to her.  "Have some of the break fast.  I hope Sabyl Sorn didn't think too badly of me.  I approached her rather abruptly, and the needs of the moment made for, perhaps, an introduction that sounded a little more like a demand."

The gnome herself, in stark contrast to her table manners of the night before, sliced a dainty portion of egg from her omelet with the edge of her spoon and worked the small mouthful onto the utensil.  If she had seemed distant and distracted up to this point, this changed with her next few words.  Her eyes were clear and focused as she settled in to listen to the report brought by the bookseller.  "Anything can be useful, Mister Haladan.  Thank you for what must have been a good few hours of study in the library.  I'm interested in hearing what you've learned."

The gnome then brought the spoon to her mouth and chewed the food as, at the same time, she digested the information.

Kellan felt the blood rise to his cheeks as he saw her standing there in the early morning light, pretty as a picture. He gave her a little wave in return with his off hand, the other one engaged holding the weapon resting on his shoulder.

"Mornin Shay" he offered as he got nearer, climbing the general store steps slowly. "You look wonderful" and he meant it.

"Today is going to be a busy one, so I thought I might sneak over here and see you before everything...gets moving." He couldn't tell her what they were up against, it would just worry the girl and he had to face it, she was the talkative sort. More likely than not half the town would know about Sandpoints demon issue if she got wind of it.

"I saw you at the speech in the square yesterday, it was good to see you there" not the most suave topic perhaps and it was obvious he was keeping a wary eye out for Ven as they spoke, but Kellan was not exactly a worldly wooer of women anyway.

Cato entered the common room of the Rusty Dragon and waved to Kerr, Liseth and Pisca at their table.  He eagerly procured a stack of pancakes and sausage links, topping the pancakes with a liberal helping of blackberries, and then drowning the entire plate with thick syrup.  He joined Kerr and Liseth, eagerly digging into his food.  After a few bites, he stopped, somewhat embarrassed by his manners.

He nodded at his dining companions.  "Sorry about that.  I feel extra hungry this morning for some reason.  Maybe it's the prospect of venturing down into the Glassworks again.  Or maybe it's just because Ameiko's food is so good."

He looked over at Pisca.  "Want to head over to Brodert's and see if he knows anything about these Rune Dogs after we're done eating?"

OOC:
I forgot to ask, does Cato know anything about these Rune Dogs with Knowledge Arcana, History or Planes?

It was amazing the way that people they merely passed on their way through Sandpoint always looked so much more cheerful.  Liseth didn't entirely understand it herself, but she was very happy to have such a positive effect on people.  Maybe that's why Sheriff Hemlock had asked her to let people see her in town; because he knew that it would make them happy too.

Arriving at the Rusty Dragon, the girl was glad to see that Ms Kaijitsu was holding up very well.  Her talk with Father Zantus last night must have done her a lot of good.  Before taking a seat and accepting a welcome mug of hot cocoa, Liseth brought Ms Kaijitsu's attention to the new dress that she was wearing.

"What do you think?  It's bulky, but I think that the design on it makes it so pretty."  Liseth raised her arms and then lowered them again, "I can't believe how well it fits me, Ms Bevaniky must be a really good tailor to bring it down to my size."

After sitting at the table, Liseth's breakfast plate saw itself with a pair of pancakes covered in blackberries.  A few sausage links sat off to one side as she concentrated on crushing the berries with a spoon in order to allow their juices to seep into the pancakes, staining the fluffy cakes purple and filling them with extra deliciousness.

Liseth was just smiling after her first juicy bite of pancake when Mr Haladan came to the inn to visit them and tell Pisca what he had learned.

"Good morning Mr Haladan."  Anything that the bookseller had to tell them would no doubt be useful, Liseth was sure.  It was probably a good thing that Pisca was already friends with him.  But she didn't know all that many people in Sandpoint yet, so the girl didn't know who this other person that they were talking about was; that Pisca seemed to have such a dislike for.  "Who is Gorvi?"

"Don't worry about being too enthusiastic about your food Cato," Liseth couldn't stop herself from giggling at his sudden embarrassment, "sometimes eating is meant to be a serious affair, with manners and decorum more important than actually enjoying the food.  But for me..." the young blonde held up her fork, complete with an impaled berry that had found itself rolled in syrup, as though making a point, "I think that eating should be fun."  With that the syrup-doused blackberry saw its last moments in the mouth of the smiling teenaged girl.

When Cato raised the subject of what to do after breakfast, Liseth realized that she hadn't given that much thought yet.  She didn't have to go pick up her dress anymore, now that Ms Bevaniky had delivered it.  And she didn't think that she would be able to add anything on to the discussion of evil Rune Dogs with Sage Quink and Cato.  Not that she really wanted to hear more about them than she already had anyway.

Liseth glanced at Kerr next to her.  If everyone else was still making preparations before their trip underground, that left them some time of their own.  They could go wait for everyone else up by the Glassworks.  And, as luck would have it, there was that beach right there next to the Glassworks building and such a grand view of the ocean...

"Did you have any plans after Breakfast Kerr?  Something that you still needed to do before we all...got started today?"

"Eating should be a performance, Cato," Pisca added to Lysa's comments as Chask Haladan marshaled his thoughts.  "And you should count yourself in the audience.  Play to the audience to please and delight them.  Tickle them or stir them.  Make your audience feel something.  And, I'll add again, that includes yourself."

"And Gorvi is a half-orc, Lysa."  The gnome turned from Cato to Liseth as she explained.  "He is also a disagreeable half-orc.  He has worked himself into a position as the rubbish collector of Sandpoint.  It's a job necessary to the town, but that no one else seems to want.  He knows this, and feels that this indispensable position allows him the latitude to be as mean as he wants."

"Well ... "  Pisca cut another small slice of omelet and lifted it to her mouth, chewing the eggy morsel and swallowing before continuing.  "This gnome says wait and see.  You just wait and see."

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“Good morning, Kellan.”  Shayliss blushed slightly, glancing down at her feet before looking up at the young guardsman through burnt-crimson bangs.  “Thank you.”  She smiled.  “I’m so glad you stopped by!  You’re looking pretty good yourself.”  She eyed him with a hint of possessiveness.

“It was good to see you too!  Last night.  A true warrior!”  She flushed again.  “Um, that’s what Daddy said, anyway.  When we saw you up on the stage at the meeting last night.  He was very impressed.”  She lowered her voice.  “Told me that you were a winner.”  She looked around hesitantly, before giving Kellan a conpiratoral grin.  “But I’m not supposed to tell you he said so.”

Her lips parted as she recalled the event.  “How did that feel? Up there in front of the whole town as Mayor Deverin called you a hero?”  She seemed to be overcoming some of her initial bashfulness, at least if her subsequent teasing was any indication.  “Seems like some folks might let that go to their heads.  Do you think that’s a danger?”

She moved a little closer, looking up at Kellan.  “So what does Lieutenant Barett have you up to today?  Are you helping to train the militia?  I was, um,” suddenly she was bashful again, “thinking that maybe I could fix a lunch and I could bring it to you and we could eat when you have a break.  If you have a break, that is.  I mean, if you want.”  She looked up with concern, as if afraid her young man might think that this was a really stupid idea.

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“Good morning, Liseth,” Chask Haladan nodded as he returned the acolyte’s greeting.  “Gorvi?  Well, I try not to say bad things about people, so in Gorvi’s case I just have to refrain from saying anything at all.”  He nodded at Pisca.  “But I have to concur with Miss Neep Freemish’s evocative description.  He certainly makes Lunk’s life much more difficult than he should."

Chask looked tired, almost as if he had spent most of the night pouring through dusty volumes of history.  “Why thank you, Pisca,” the bookseller accepted the gnome’s invitation.  “I think I will.”  He speared a couple of the pancakes onto his plate, followed by an omelet and a generous helping of blackberries.

“You’ll have to give Sabyl some time.  For my part, I told her that you were a friend of the town and just trying to help.  But it takes her a while to warm up to people.”  He savored a bite of pancake.  “My goodness, this is excellent.  Yes, even me, if you can believe it.  I think when I first arrived here she thought I was going to try and purloin volumes from her library for my shop.”  He grinned.  “She can be possessive of her books, if you hadn’t noticed.  But she really has a very warm and good heart under all that.”

“Mmmm,” the bookseller took a few moments to enjoy Ameiko’s famous breakfast.  “I definitely don’t get down here often enough.”  He took a sip of coffee, smiling appreciatively.  “It’s the little things that make life worth living, don’t you agree?”  He raised the cup, as if making a toast.  “I am completely on board, Liseth.  If there was ever a subject for enthusiasm, good food is it.”  He raised his eyebrows at the girl as he held his cup aloft, as if they were allies against a crude and uncaring world of culinary philistines.

“So, what I learned.”  He dropped into an almost-professorial mode, as if lecturing to a group of particularly-bright students.  “It was not much.  Millenia ago, Sandpoint used to be the site of a laboratory and prison run by a man referred to as ‘Xaliasa,’ who sold his soul to Lamashtu in return for the standard reward of dark power.  He was an agent of Runelord Karzoug, but possibly a double-agent as well for another Runelord.”

Chask coughed.  ”The record was not incredibly clear on that point.  But what is clear is that Xaliasa eventually went mad, whether because he was a double agent or for some other reason, becoming known simply as ‘The Scribbler.’  He apparently perished when Thassilon fell and the empire sank beneath the sea.”

“Now, I know there has been mention of a quasit.  One book I read indicated that Xaliasa had a quasit familiar.  I do not know if that helps you or not, but there you go.”  Chask leaned forward, clearly interested in the subject matter.  “So it seems like these tunnels might actually be Xaliasa’s old stomping grounds.  Probably are, if this quasit is the same one that used to be his familiar.”  He looked a little awestruck.  “But if that’s true, it would have been trapped down there for thousands of years . . . I have no idea what effect that might have had on it.”

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"How did it feel?" He smirked "Well it was very loud" he laughed "and I'm honored...but I think it really came down to being in the right place at the right time, any of the guard could have been there instead of me, and I was lucky to have my friends with me, truth be told I wouldn't have lasted long in there without them"

He idled up and set the butt of his pole axe on the ground, leaning on it as they chatted. "True warrior might be a little much...they were goblins after all...but I'll take what I can get with your dad" he added softly with a conspiratorial grin. "As far as it going to my head, well...I don't think that'll be an issue...Not with Alergast, Ameiko and yourself to remind me, early and often it seems that I was good with a shovel long before I had even touched a weapon"

He was reminded that he had not had breakfast yet at Shay's suggestion, a warmness coming over him at the thought of her caring enough to do that sort of thing. "Lunch sounds great, unfortunately it sounds like we are going to be away today...but I was about to go have breakfast at the Dragon we can talk your father into letting you come" he added hopefully

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Kerr grinned as he watched Liseth enjoy her blackberry-laden pancakes.  She was so involved with properly preparing her meal that for a moment she didn’t seem to notice anyone else present.  He was definitely going to keep her fondness for food in mind.  He wondered if Ameiko would be interested in giving him cooking lessons.  He made a mental note to ask later.

Kerr took an omelet and some bacon for himself, pouring a glass of orange juice for Liseth and then for himself.  He was slightly distracted when Liseth showed off her new dress.  She looked good in it.  REALLY good in it.  It accentuated her form, so much that it was hard to keep his eyes . . .

Concentrate, Mollin.

The young acolyte tried to pick up the thread of the conversation.

Kerr piped in to supplement the group's discussion of Sandpoint’s junkmaster.  “Gorvi’s pretty much the most-unpleasant person in Sandpoint.  I think so, at least.  He’s always drunk and yelling at his junkmen, especially poor Lunk.  I always feel badly about it but there doesn’t seem to be anything anyone can do because no one wants to do his job.”

Kerr was enthralled as Chask Haladan outlined the history of the Glassworks’ tunnels.  It was amazing to think that in just an hour or two they might be walking halls built thousands of years in the past.  The sheer scope of the history involved took the young acolyte’s breath away.

“Um . . . after breakfast?”  Kerr looked startled; he clearly had not anticipated Liseth’s question.  “Er, no, I don’t think so.  I thought we were all going over to Sage Quink’s place and then heading to the Glassworks and into the tunnels?”  He shrugged to indicate that he hadn’t put a great deal of thought into this itinerary.  “But I don’t know.”  He smiled.  “It’s certainly not like I’m in a hurry to get down there.  But I guess the sooner we head in the sooner it’s all over with.”

As Kerr spoke, he mentally kicked himself for running on at the mouth like he was.  He sounded more the nervous boy than the mature servant of the gods he would like to be.  Then he realized that maybe Liseth was raising this issue because she had something in particular she wanted to do rather than because she needed an up-to-date schedule.

The young man just barely stopped himself from sighing.  This understanding girls thing was hard work.

“Why?”  Kerr recovered gallantly.  “Was there something you had in mind?”

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This message was last edited by the player at 23:39, Fri 28 Feb 2014.

Cato listened to Haladan's words eagerly. The amount of history that existed underneath the surface of Golariion boggled his mind. Every time the wizard opened a new tome, he found new evidence of ancient civilizations, not all of which were even human. Obviously, not all the stories could be true. Or at least not every part of every story could be true. But all of them probably had at least some kernel of truth, and there was enough independent evidence for certain things. The Runelords for instance, and great cataclysms in the past.

Cato suddenly realized he had been holding a forkful of pancake over his plate, oblivious to the thin trail of syrup that had dripped onto to the table during his mental meander. He quickly ate the pancake and wiped up the sticky mess before responding.

"That's amazing. I had wondered how long that quasit might have been down there. It really sends a chill down your spine to consider. Can you imagine being trapped in a dungeon somewhere for thousands of years?  What it would do to your psyche?  I've heard of men breaking because of a few days of solitary confinement, but that is..."

Cato stabbed another piece of pancake, punctuating his point with a brief shriek of metal against plate. "Well, it's hard to think about."

Cato brooded for a few more moments, efficiently finishing his breakfast. "Oh, we also need to see Nisk and get our burst jars. Because what fun is facing a possibly insane quasit without a load of explosives?"

"Gorvi doesn't sound very nice."  Liseth frowned; there were bad eggs everywhere, even in a nice town like Sandpoint.  And she thought that they all stayed inside the Fatman's Feedbag.  "He's a half-orc?  I suppose that half-orcs do have a reputation for being mean."  The girl thought for a moment, "I remember Father Garrick told me once that half-orcs are mean because people aren't nice to them.  They think that nobody likes them, so they lash out at people.  Sometimes a half-orc will follow Sarenrae because She accepts everybody and helps them stay away from their darker natures, but usually they just get more and more mean and sad."  Liseth paused, realizing that she probably sounded like she was preaching, "I wonder if Gorvi would be nicer if he had more friends?"  She finished.

Liseth smiled and raised her own cup to Mr Haladan's pseudo-toast, then proceeded to take a sip of the orange juice that Kerr poured for her when the bookseller went on to describe what he had learned at Pisca's request.  After listening to Cato's comment, the girl had a thought of her own, "But why has the quasit been trapped down there for thousands of years?  It could have easily gotten out, right?  Since the tunnels lead up to the surface and it has those Rune Dog minions."  She shrugged helplessly, Liseth knew little about ancient history, demons, and magic, "Maybe it wants to stay down there?  There could be something that it likes a lot.  Or this wizard Xaliasa did something to keep it from being able to leave before he died."

"Well..."  Kerr seemed a little bit confused by Liseth's sudden question, but at least he revealed that he did not in fact have any real plans before they all went into the ancient tunnels.  Liseth really didn't want to think about that until she had to, the girl was perfectly happy to try and squeeze whatever she could out of the day; because she knew that it would be far from pleasant once they were underground.

"I don't think that I could help with a discussion about ancient ruins and evil rune dogs.  And I'm sure that Cato will share with us anything important that he learns."  The acolyte's azure eyes looked towards Cato for support before focusing back on Kerr, "So we don't really need to visit Sage Quink.  And if Cato and Pisca and Kellan are still finishing their preparations, then we can just wait for them near the Glassworks..."  The blonde girl's cheeks started to turn red as she shyly looked away before finishing, "Together."

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Shayliss’ face fell as she learned her carefully-crafted lunch plans were for naught.  “Oh, well, I know you’re busy . . .,” she started to say with some despondence, before brightening a little as Kellan suggested breakfast.  She sighed and shot a resigned look back at the door of the General Store.

“I really wish I could, Kellan, but Daddy is going to be in and out this morning helping Lieutenant Barett and the rest of the guard officers with various supplies they need for the militia training.  I have to stay here and mind the store while he’s gone.”  She glanced down at the boards of the porch before looking back up at him.  “And Katrine is attending the meeting Sir Jasper called over at the Mercantile League.”  She gave the young guardsman a wry look.  “Otherwise I’d get her to cover for me.   Gods know I’ve done it often enough for HER.”

Shayliss put a slender hand on Kellan’s arm.  “But I would really, really like to join you sometime.”  She lightly caressed his shoulder before pulling back.  “If you’re going to be busy all day,” she huffed, but with a smile, “perhaps you might invite a girl to dinner?”

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The gnome poked at her omelet with the tip of her spoon as she mulled over the things that Chask Haladan had reported.  "Well, that explains how Nubiana found out about the tunnels," Pisca commented when the storyteller was done.  For a moment it appeared that the gnome was not going to explain her deduction.  Then she said, "Lamashtu."

"And this was a laboratory *and* a prison," said the gnome.  Her face held a look of intense focus as she spoke, though the focus appeared, for all the world, intent upon pushing the remaining bit of her omelet around the rim of her plate.  "Sort of like a library and a tea house.  Or a tavern and a bordello.  Or a smithy and a stable.  They go together.  But only if you're experimenting on the prisoners.  As in monsters.  As in Lamashtu."

"As to time and madness, I think you humans see things differently due to the short span of your lives.  A few years without moving around and you run out of things to do.  And you need each other to entertain yourselves.  That's why you're always making more of each other so quickly.  The Quasit may be mad.  But it may not have had anything to do with living in tunnels for thousands of years.  And you have to remember that the Quasit was trapped in a way even before the tunnels became the tunnels.  It was bound to this ... Xaliasa."  The gnome took a moment to savor the name, then continued on.  "I think a better question than how the Quasit went mad is which is more dangerous?  A mad Quasit or a sane Quasit?  And what does a Quasit, mad or sane, do for thousands of years?  I can't imagine it would take up knitting.  Not with Lamashtu's influence."

The gnome went silent.  The spoon in her hand stilled.  The look on her face was grim, and her eyes stared off into the middle distance as though taking in a scene both deadly and dire.  "Drowning," she said.  "Drowning in seven hundred fifty two thousand eight hundred and six multi-colored scarves."  Pisca shook her head.  "Fortunately, if we can count on Lamashtu's involvement, we're probably talking about monsters and not knitting.  In fact ... if the Quasit has been trapped down there for so long, you have to wonder where the Rune Dogs came from, don't you?"

"I think you're right, Cato."  With a single swift motion, Pisca scooped up the remaining eggy bite of omelet and swallowed it down.  "We have to see Brodie.  He may have more to add to this.  If not, he'll most certainly want to know of it.  And we do need to drop by and pick up those Burst Jars from Nisk at Bottled Solutions."

"Say ... "  The gnome stood up on the seat of her chair, sweeping up a napkin with which to wipe her mouth on the way.  "That's a good idea," she said then, after hopping down to the ground and starting the process of arranging her gear.  "Lysa, if you and Kerr could make that trip it would help save some time.  Bottled Solutions is just north of here, sort of on the way to the Glassworks.  Sort of.  Oh, but you have to be careful with them.  They sort of explode.  Sort of."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:54, Mon 03 Mar 2014.

Kellan was already considering how he was going to invite Shay to a breakfast without the Quasit coming up, when she ended up declining the invitation anyway. He really could not be surprised, Ven seemed to run a tight ship.

"I'm honestly not sure what time we might be getting back, but if it's before or around dinner time I would love to take you out tonight. Failing that, if we get caught up with something I'm sure we can find a time over the next few days." He agreed with a nod and a grin "Don't have too much fun here without me..." Looking around at the store with a wink before he began to turn back towards the Rusty Dragon.

"And tell your sister she owes you one" he called back light heartedly as he walked.

This all depending upon him not dying a screaming death at the hands of little devilish creatures, but she did not need to know that part.

Cato nodded at Pisca's suggestion.  "Liseth, that would be great if you and Kerr could get the burst jars from Bottled Solutions while we see Brodert again."  Cato laughed.  "I never thought I'd have so many questions for Quink when those goblins attacked!"

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“Okay.”  Shay sighed.  “I hope you get back in time tonight!”  She gave Kellan a sly grin.  “You might want to hurry just so I DON’T have too much fun!”  She struck a siren-like pose next to the doorframe, one hand on the top of the frame, one on her hip, displaying her profile.  “If you know what I mean!”  She laughed and returned Kellan’s wink as he departed, giving him a small wave before heading back inside the store to resume her own duties.

Chuckling to himself, Kellan made his way down Water Street to Southmarket Square, where the militia was still forming up for the day’s training.  Kellan waved to Alergast and several other of his fellow guardsmen as he made his way through the milling tradesmen and shopkeepers over to Market Street.  He shouldered his way down the bustling street to The Rusty Dragon, pushing open the doors.  His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not yet had breakfast.

As it happened, Ameiko was making her way through the common room just as the young guardsman entered.  “Kellan!”  Her broad smile of welcome made the taproom feel even more homey.  “Everyone’s already here,” she gestured to the table where the rest of the group was seated, “and I’m certain they’ve been missing you.”  She grinned.  “You better hurry and get something to eat, or I’m not sure there’s going to be anything left!”

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This message was last edited by the GM at 20:07, Mon 03 Mar 2014.

Perhaps to Ameiko's amusement Kellan seemed to treat her spirited greeting and comment about breakfast as a call to action. "They wouldn't...alright, maybe they would...I probably would" he finally admitted to himself as he pressed his way past his host "And good morning!" He shot back with a smile as he hustled to the table.

As he reached the others he seemed to be in a good mood, glowing with life and vitality despite the dour nature of the days agenda. "Mornin" he offered as he sat would carefully, as not to scratch up the chair with all his war implements."Glassworks is safe as of about ten minutes ago...heard a few noises in the night but nothing serious" he briefed them as he began to load up his plate.

"If y'all are heading out I can just meet you back over there after I eat...at the Glassworks that is"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:48, Mon 03 Mar 2014.

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Kerr couldn’t help giving Liseth a smile as she empathized with the town’s junkmaster.  One of the reasons he loved the small blonde was her insistence on always seeing the best side of everyone, even those as unpleasant as Gorvi.  Of course, he admitted to himself, she might be singing a different tune after seeing the half-orc cruelly berate a gentle soul like Lunk.  Kerr himself had tried to be nice to Gorvi but it was hard when the man was just so nasty to other people.

“I don’t know if we're necessarily certain that it could have gotten out,” Kerr supplied in response to Liseth’s quasit commentary.  “The tunnels are relatively recent, aren't they?  Sounds to me, from what Pisca said,” the acolyte raised his glass of orange juice towards the gnome, “that they were made around the time of Sandpoint’s founding.  That wasn’t so long ago.  Maybe whoever dug the tunnels managed to excavate their way into a long-sealed Thassilonian ruin?”  Kerr shuddered slightly.  “That would have been a pretty unpleasant surprise.”

“That makes sense though, Pisca.”  He nodded along as the gnome explained her theory of how Nualia might have encountered the quasit.  “If Nualia dedicated herself to Lamashtu it stands to reason that Lamashtu would have informed her of an ally under the city.  Especially if Lamashtu’s goal is,” Kerr looked grim, “destroying Sandpoint.”

Kerr was still getting used to the idea of the gods taking such a personal interest in affairs he would have otherwise thought to be very provincial.  He started to wonder what it was about Sandpoint that made it such a focus of deific attention, but was distracted by Pisca's description of what the tunnels might be like after thousands of years of knitting.  Kerr had to smile.  He liked the gnome; he found her whimsical nature and vibrant imagination very endearing.

The young man beamed at Liseth as she suggested that they take a walk together while the others went to see Sage Quink.  “Why, Miss Liseth,” he said, grinning as he took on the snooty upper-class affectation with which she was now so familiar, “I would be most pleased to accompany you on a morning constitutional before engaging in our subterranean adventure.”  He looked around the table, dropping back into his regular voice.  “Unless anyone has any objections?”

Kerr coughed as Pisca suggested and Cato seconded the notion that he and Liseth pick up the burst jars from Nisk Tanner’s shop.  The acolyte had never been incredibly comfortable around alchemical substances, largely because he had absolutely no skill with the craft himself.  And Nisk, while brilliant, wasn’t the most . . . detail-oriented of men, in Kerr’s estimation.  Not that there was anything wrong with having your head in the clouds.

Unless you were crafting highly-explosive items for other people to use.

Still, it had to be done.  “I think we can probably do that,” he raised an eyebrow at Liseth to make sure she was okay with the idea.  “We’ll pick up the jars and meet you outside the Glassworks in, say, an hour?”

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This message was last edited by the player at 20:49, Mon 03 Mar 2014.