---

---

Despite his height, Kellan found he needed to move out with a purpose to keep up with Sir Jasper as the paladin strode purposefully across Southmarket Square in search of Lieutenant Alergast Barett.  Even so, the young guardsman still had time to catch the almost-awestruck glances of the newly-inducted auxiliary guardsmen; they were watching Kellan Storval, Ogre Stomp! Champion and rumored special agent of the Mayor, walk across the square with Sir Jasper Korvaski, noted Mayoral adjutant.  Muttered speculation followed the pair as they passed.  What could Kellan have been up to today?  Why was he covered in what looked like blood and gore?  And where were they going in such a hurry?

The murmuring persisted until Sergeant Valbert Peltnor came down on the whisperers like a ton of bricks, his impressive mustache quivering in righteous indignation.  The Sergeant’s voluble remonstrations followed Kellan and Sir Jasper all the way to the other side of the square, providing a stark warning to other trainees who might have been tempted to engage in similarly speculative frivolity.

Alergast Barett was standing on a cordoned-off part of Market Street where it left the Valdemar Fishmarket, right before it traveled off west between the Sandpoint Meat Market and the Sandpoint Mercantile League Building, immediately adjacent to the southern docks.  Hay bales were arranged up against the eastern wall of the League’s administrative offices, and longbow-wielding merchants were standing 30 paces away, attempting to hit the targets of varying sizes attached to the bales.

It did not look as if they were having great success.

Alergast rubbed at his forehead as he watched the latest round of longbow fire discharge harmlessly into the hay and, for a few less-fortunate souls, the wall of the Mercantile building.  The big guardsman looked exhausted.  But as he glanced over to see Sir Jasper and Kellan approaching, his face broke into a smile.

The lieutenant turned back to his charges.  “Okay, archers.  Let’s take a break.”  His booming voice carried easily.  “But while we do, I want you to practice stringing and unstringing your bows.  Everyone should be able to have their bow strung and be out the door within a minute after the cathedral bell sounds the warning.  Sandpoint is depending on you!!”

Temporarily freed from his supervisorial duties, Alergast cast a quizzical look at his visitors.  “Kellan.  Sir Jasper.  It’s good to see you!  But I have to say I’m a little surprised to see you both together.”  He clasped forearms with first Sir Jasper, then Kellan, in the fashion of Sandpoint’s guardsmen.  “Is everything okay?  What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing of import, my friend,” Sir Jasper waved away Alergast’s concern.  “At least, not right now.  Just that you and your protégé have been summoned to a meeting with the mayor.  You should be there at the next bell, so you’ve got some time if you want to clean up a bit.”

“Yeah, time,” laughed the guard officer.  “I’ve had SO much of that lately.”  He sighed.  “I was going to try and have dinner with Amele and the kids, but I guess duty calls.”  He grinned at Kellan.  “So how has your day been, strongman?”  He looked at Kellan’s blood-splattered armor.  “Looks like you saw some action.  Good to see you’re all right.  Not that I had any doubts.”  He grinned widely.  “You’ve had the very best mentor, after all.”

---

---

Kellan tried his utmost to remain unphased by the attention as he walked along the ranks of training militia. He focused on Voons tale of Hubris and recalled its lesson almost like a mantra, rolling over the promises he had made to himself to remain humble regardless of what the future may bring.

This does not mean it was easy.

He could not honestly say that he had not thought about displaying the body of the demon priestess, or planting the purloined pole arm in the middle of the town square like a victory banner, or regailing the locals with tales of their battles earlier in the day over glasses of free beer.

But at the least he did not act on them.

He gave a wave and a tired smile to a few of the militia he knew best as he made his way over to Alergast.

"Dinner with Amele?" Kellan jibed as he leaned on his weapon, an excited grin coming to his face "When? Has she already started?" He leaned in closer with a conspiratorial tone "Is she making those fried rosemary potatoes?"

"I can save you some, probably...I'm sure she made plenty" he switched topics as his Lieutenant seemed to have his fill of the joke "Ok, ok...My day? Long...and well" he glanced over his shoulder to all the potential listeners "Well it was long in any case"

"But..I thought you might appreciate this" He shrugged off his pack and unlashed the not entirely ceremonial weapon they had found in the grip of the statue, offering it to his mentor haft first as the man had taught him so long ago.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:46, Wed 04 June 2014.

---

---

Alergast took the metal-and-ivory ranseur from Kellan as if it were the final masterwork of a well-known artist, which may actually not have been that far off the mark, given its stunning appearance.

“This,” said the guard lieutenant, running a hand along the weapon wonderingly, “is a work of art.”  He swung the polearm around a bit, jabbing at and blocking the attacks of phantom foes.  “And the balance!  Incredible.  Every bit the weapon ours are,” he motioned to the Kaijitsu-supplied polearms he and Kellan carried, “only less . . . utilitarian.  How did they even work the ivory into this?”

The big guardsman continued to stare at the weapon for a moment, then looked up at his protégé with a smile.  “This is quite a find, Kellan,” he said, handing the weapon back to the younger man in the same polite manner he had received it, “are you going to keep it, or are you going to sell it?  I have to imagine it would bring a pretty penny in someplace like Magnimar or Korvosa.”

Alergast stretched and gave his friend a tired, wry smile.  “Unfortunately I don’t think either of us are going to have time to enjoy Amele’s cooking before we meet with the mayor.”  He waved a hand at Sir Jasper, who shrugged apologetically.  “Duty calls, as ever.  We should probably head back to the garrison and make ourselves presentable.  I imagine we wouldn’t make a very good impression in our current state.”  He gestured to Kellan’s blood-splattered armor and his own sweat-stained, dust-covered garments.

Kellan knew there were wash basins at the garrison that the guardsmen could use to clean up after their shift.  Clif Buxton, the civilian whose job it was to maintain the building, was good at his job.  The water was always clean, if cold.  “We should probably wash up and change.  Dress uniforms for the funeral.”  Alergast continued as he grinned at his friend’s forlorn expression.  “Buck up, Storval.  You look nice in it.  And I’m sure your sweetheart will be there.”  He winked, then gestured up the avenue with excessive formality.  “Women love a man in uniform.  Shall we go, then?”

---

---

Kellans first impulse was to simply gov the man the ornate weapon. Without him the young guardsman may have never learned the skills that had kept him, and probably others alive over the past few weeks. He had earned it many times over in Kellans mind, but a few things stopped him.

The first was the fact that his friends had an equal share in the thing. They had all risked equally, and while he doubted that they would be upset, it was only right that he ask them what they wanted to do with it.

The second was the fact that it could be dangerous, even if Cato had assured that it was not magical, word could get out about such treasures and artifacts, or other less savory people could have an interest in it's history.

It was with these thoughts in mind that he took it back and lashed it back where it had been, then nodded to the Lieutenants suggestion.

"Dress uniform? That might take a little longer...yeah, we should probably head that way. Looks like the militia is shaping up..." he chatted as they walked, making his way back towards the Garrison where a clean wash basin and a fine, if somewhat uncomfortable dress uniform awaited them.

---

---

Alergast called a brief conference with his sergeants and outlined the plan for what remained of the day along with giving them the reason for his abrupt departure.  The Guard’s non-commissioned officers seemed to be responding well to their additional authority and responsibility; they were taking a personal interest in making sure the militia was as well-trained and ready for battle as they could possibly make it.  It made their lieutenant proud.  Alergast had always hoped that the Sandpoint Guard would develop into a cadre of professional soldiers, and it looked like they were well on their way.  He clapped Peltnor on the shoulder as the man nodded seriously at his final words, then turned to head to the Garrison with Kellan.

As they made the short walk up Water Street to Main, Alergast cast a sidelong glance at his protégé; the younger man was chatting about the readiness of the militia and what might be happening at the upcoming conference with the mayor.  Alergast found it difficult to put his finger on why, but Kellan seemed somehow . . . older.  More mature.  A little less of the wide-eyed farmboy he’d been when he joined the guard and a little more the experienced warrior Alergast had always hoped he’d become.

The older guardsman grinned to himself as he remembered the day Kellan had arrived from the outlying farmsteads, ready to face whatever physical trials were necessary to become a member of the Sandpoint Guard.  The Guard must have seemed like such an organized, adult force to a young man barely halfway through his teens.  Kellan had shown such determination and, Alergast had to admit, raw skill that it had not been difficult to pick the new guardsman for that year.  It HAD been difficult for Alergast to hide a smile when he had informed Kellan of the good news; that kind of honest enthusiasm couldn’t be faked, and it was refreshing to see from someone who’d had as many years in as Alergast had.

As the pair turned up Main Street, Alergast noticed how people were reacting to Kellan differently.  Not that they’d discounted the young guardsman before, but now he had earned an honest reputation for heroism, starting with his improbable Ogre Stomp! victory, continuing through the Battle of the Swallowtail Festival, and on through the fights in and under the Glassworks.  People were discovering the mettle deep within Kellan Storval, and they admired it.  Alergast just hoped the young man was ready for the challenges that came with his newfound fame.

Like female attention.  For example, there was Shayliss Vinder, leaning alluringly against a post on the General Store’s porch, looking at Kellan with what Alergast took to be a mix of possessiveness, predatory interest, genuine affection, and attraction, all bound up in a thousand-watt smile.  He could see why Kellan ogled her; she was a gorgeous young woman.

But the younger Vinder girl was not a woman to be trifled with, in Alergast’s estimation.  And that wasn’t even taking her FATHER into account.  Alergast shivered.  He hoped his young friend was up to whatever might result from that relationship . . .

Alergast glanced over at Kellan as they walked.  “Looks like things are going pretty well with you and Shayliss,” he said noncommittally as they continued up Main Street.  Lunk, who was picking up trash at the opening of Rusty Nail Alley, gave them a genial wave.  Alergast waved back.  “You’re taking it slow, I hope?  I don’t want to have to come down and peel you off the General Store’s floor if you end up going a round or two with Ven.”

---

---

Kellans keen interest in matters the militia, and how best to deploy them were obvious. In truth he was so absorbed with the topic, that he did not seem to notice his mentor observing him in a changing light.

He was mid sentence, waving to Lunk and discussing the difficult topic of sending newly trained men into combat, when he caught sight of Shayliss.

There was just something about the girl, maybe a few things in all honesty, that made Kellan smile. Their coming together had happened so suddenly, and at such a chaotic time that he had never really had a chance to think about anything longer than the next few days.

They had started dating out of a sort of mutual need for survival, but as the days passed he found himself thinking about her more and more often. She was stunning, that was a given, and kind, and...well...adventurous if their first "date" had been any indication. Did he need any better reasons than that?

Maybe...ironically Amele would probably be the one to ask. She seemed to know everything there was to know about the young and eligible.

"We are...she rode out with me to have dinner with my family the other day...and, well I guess I have been so busy that we have not had a lot of time together to begin with" he smirked

"Did Amele have anything to say about it?" He asked, looking to his mentor more as a friend in this matter "You two probably dont get to see each other as much these days either"

"Mister Vinder, well, he was pretty direct...but I figure as long as I'm straight with him everything will hopefully go more or less ok. He seems pretty stressed himself these days" Kellan did not want to spread rumors, and figured Alergast had probably head about Katrine anyway.

He stomped his boots and opened the door to the Garrison for his lieutenant, taking in his second home with a deep breath as he began mentally checking off everything he should do befote the meeting.

---

---

“Did Amele have anything to say about it?”  Alergast shot his young friend a sidelong glance to see if he was kidding.  “Are you kidding?”  The side of his mouth quirked into a half-smile.  “You’re right, we’ve hardly seen each other for the past few days, and whenever we do it’s,” Alergast dropped into a serviceable imitation of his wife’s voice, “’how are Kellan and Shayliss doing?’ ‘Do you think she’s good for him?’ ‘Is this the right time for him to start a relationship?’”  The big man’s voice returned to its normal baritone register.  “Yes, I think you’ll find she’s FULL of opinions.”  He grinned.  “And if you ask her I’m sure she’ll share them.  Just be sure to have a couple of hours free when you do.”

The pair arrived at the Garrison, the imposing stone edifice fronting Main Street with the same stoic resolve it had exhibited since its construction so many years ago.  The building was almost devoid of activity; it seemed all the guardsmen were either down training the militia, standing guard, or home asleep.  Alergast walked in through the doors as Kellan pulled them open, waving to Caul Thatcher, who was manning the front desk with the brusque efficiency he exhibited even when the town wasn’t under the imminent threat of attack.

“Afternoon, Caul,” Alergast said as they entered the building, giving the desk officer a jaunty salute.  “Kellan and I are going to clean up a bit before we head over to a meeting at Town Hall.  So if anyone is looking for me, that’s where I’ll be.”  He paused.  “Make whoever it is aware that this is an important meeting, so it should only be interrupted for something that really cannot wait.”  He gave Caul a meaningful look to verify the seriousness of his words.

“Only disturb you if we’re under attack or it’s Amele,” replied the guardsman, nodding with an admirably straight face as Alergast and Kellan headed down to the washroom.  “Got it.”

Alergast rolled his eyes and grinned as he and Kellan headed down to the Garrison’s lower level and entered the washroom, which was located right across from the Armory.  Various guardsmen's civilian clothes were hanging neatly in the small marked stalls lining the left and right walls of the room.  In the center were four large tubs, a couple of wash basins, some largish ladles, and an absolutely enormous cauldron of clean water.  Freshly-cut bars of soap sat on stools next to the tubs and basins, and a generous supply of thick gray towels were folded neatly and placed in the open cabinets in the back of the room.  The two guardsmen’s dress uniforms, clean and pressed, were hanging alongside their civilian clothes, and the black dress boots sitting at the foot of each of their stalls looked as if they’d seen some polish.

Clif Buxton was a man who took his job seriously.

Alergast was already removing his armor in anticipation of washing up.  “You wouldn’t think that training would be such a dirty or tiring job,” he said as he unbuckled his breastplate and shrugged out of it with an audible sigh, stretching his muscles and cracking a few joints as he did so.  “But it is.”  He sat down on one of the stools next to a tub and dipped a hand in, wincing as he did so.  “Cold.”  He said simply.  “Life of a guardsman.”

He grabbed a slice of soap and began washing himself.  “Being straight with Ven is the best plan, I’d wager.”  The big man shivered, although whether from the cold water or the prospect of an altercation of the General Store’s proprietor was an open question.  “I’ve never had to confront him, thank the Gods, and I hope I never do.  Not sure how that one would play out.  But I’d definitely want some help.”  He used one of the ladles to wet his hair.  “So keeping things on the straight-and-narrow with his daughter is a good plan on your part.”

---

---

This message was last edited by the player at 07:54, Wed 18 June 2014.

Kellan could not help but smile at Alergast imitation of his wife. It really was pretty good, and he could just imagine her bombarding him with questions as soon as he walked through the door.

Could Shayliss and himself ever have that easy closeness? Would she understand if he were called away for days at a time to train militia? Would she make a good mother? He found himself mentally chastising himself as they reached the foyer.

"Whoah...Slow down there"


He gave Caul a wave and a tired smile "Heya Caul" before he tromped into where the baths wet set up and looked at the clear water with a new found appreciation.

"I'm just trying to see things through Mister Vinders eyes, yah know? What does he expect out of me? Whats gonna set him off?"

He set his pole axe against the wall and grounded his pack before he stripped off his soiled tabbard.

"Your a dad, with a daughter now. Any sage bits of fatherly wisdom to help keep me on his good side?"

The chain mail came next, sloughing off like some metallic lizard shedding his skin. Then the gambison, damp and smelling of sweat. Then finally his cotton undergarments.

He looked funny, with his severe farmers tan made even more prominent by all the grime on his face, but he faced the cold water admirably, his breaths coming shallow and quick as his body tried to adapt.

He let out a little woop as he sat down, the bathwater already turning gray as he reached for a scrub brush
This message was last edited by the player at 02:05, Thu 19 June 2014.

---

---

"Well, Ven's a pretty reasonable guy when it comes right down to it."  Alergast had given in and gingerly lowered himself into one of the tubs to speed the cleaning process, still wincing at the cold.  "He could easily be a real problem if he had a raging temper.  Fortunately, most of the people whose ears he's boxed have had it coming, in one way or another."

The Barett patriarch made a desultory effort at scrubbing.  "You've got a pretty good head on your shoulders, Kellan.  If you just do what you think is right I think you'll stay on his good side.  Just don't let Shayliss, um, tempt you into doing anything you know you shouldn't.  She can be a bit of a firecracker that way, according to Amele."  The big man started scrubbing with more vigor.  "Hey, the water's not that bad once you get used to it."

"And I don't even want to THINK about the boys who are going to be after Verah, thank you very much."  He began washing the soap off.  "If she grows up to be as gorgeous as her mother, and why shouldn't she, I'm going to have to beat them off with a stick.  Or perhaps a club.  Or maybe a poleaxe."  He gave Kellan a sober look as he climbed out of the tub.  "And YOU'RE her godfather, strongman!!  I'll be an old man by that time!  I'm expecting you to bring the intimidation!  To strike fear in their hearts!"  He waited a beat before grinning.  "So take notes from Ven.  I have it on good authority that he's an expert on that sort of thing."

The lieutenant reached for one of the towels and began drying himself off.  "But in all seriousness, at this point I think you are one of Sandpoint's most-eligible bachelors, Kellan."  He looked over at his friend while toweling his hair, looking for all the world as if he was wearing some sort of outlandish turban.  "If Verah finds a man of your quality, I will be one happy father."  He reached for his dress uniform.  "I imagine Ven is of a similar mind.  So as long as you're respectful, you should be okay."

---

---

This message was lightly edited by the player at 00:17, Thu 19 June 2014.

The farm boy did not really know how to react to all the praise. Good head on his shoulders? Man of Quality? Very fond sentiments coming from a man he regarded as a sort of second father. One of the most eligible bachelors in Sandpoint? That was an entire other matter.

He had never considered himself as particularly desirable. He would never be wealthy as a guardsman, he may do alright, and those at the higher ranks seemed to manage nice little houses. But for the moment he was living out of a barracks, or very recently the Rusty Dragon, and that was almost certainly a limited arrangement.

He was also keenly aware that he was not exactly...worldly. Lord Foxglove for example seemed to have travelled far and wide, was wealthy. That was the kind of man that sprung to mind when he thought of desirable bachelors.

Then again Liseth had seemed almost afraid of him. But she was a very virtuous sort of girl, and she did have Kerr. They really went very well together. It made him wonder if there was something to these visions she said that she had experianced.

Cato was also the worldy sort. He had travelled and was even a student of the arcane. What girl wouldnt want a man who could conjure up all manner of fantastical things? Kellan doubted he would remain single long.

"Well...thanks. I dont know what to say" he grinned and scrubbed his face.

"As far as Shayliss being a firecracker...yeah, shes not exactly the timid type, heh. I'll try to reign her in a little if it comes down to it"

Employing some of the gritty soap that was on hand, Kellan scoured his flesh then rinsed the soap from his hair.

"I dont think you'll need to worry too much about Verah. Shayliss has her protective father, sure. But Verah, she'll have the whole guard looking out for her."

Once rinsed Kellan hoped out and dried himself with one of the large, course towels and looked over his dress uniform for any scuffs,  wrinkles or loose threads as he spoke.

"That's kind of the thing, Venn is tough, but he also seems fair. I imagine it's probably gonna take a lot to earn his respect. I guess as long as I treat Shayliss well and follow his rules he won't have too many reasons to lay me out...heh"

Carefully he began the process of suiting up, the ornate clothing feeling feather light after wearing his mail all day. When he finally pulled on his glossy boots he inspected himself in the mirror and was delighted to find that he no longer looked like he had been killing things earlier that day.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Fri 20 June 2014.

---

---

Alergast grinned at Kellan.  With all the terrible things that were going on in Sandpoint . . . the attacks, the threat of invasion, the discovery that Nualia and Tsuto had terrible plans for their erstwhile hometown . . . it was good to talk about normal things.  A young man courting a woman.  Her skeptical behemoth of a father.  How to fend off the young woman’s more-amorous advances in a way that retained her affection but also kept one from experiencing a pummeling at the hands of said behemoth.

There were rough waters to navigate from adolescence to adulthood.  Even in times like these.

“Well, I hope you’re right about Verah.  And if you don’t know what to say, I’d recommend keeping your mouth closed.”  Alergast joshed as he buttoned up the dress-uniform tunic.  “The strong-and-silent type may be your best play here.  What was it the wise man once said?  ‘It is better to be silent and be thought a fool than speak and remove all doubt?’”  He slapped Kellan on the back.  “Don’t worry about it, Champion.  You’re going to do great.  And if you don’t?”  The lieutenant tapped himself on the chest.  “Well, you always have me to back you up.  I’m happy to come down and scrape you off the General Store’s floor anytime.  I’ll even cart you to Father Z free of charge!  Because that’s just the kind of guy I am.”

Alergast and Kellan were now fully outfitted in their dress uniforms.  The uniform was based on the classic Magnimarian design:  high-collared navy-blue tunics with gold trim and buttons, crisp white pants, navy belts with shining gold buckles, and glossy black boots.  Alergast, as an officer, had a dark navy stripe running from boot to hip on the outside of both legs, minimalist golden epaulets, and lieutenant’s bars on either side of his collar.  Kellan’s tunic was unadorned.

They looked at themselves in the mirror.  Alergast had to admit that they looked good.  “We clean up pretty well, don’t we?”  He said to Kellan, looking at his friend in the mirror while straightening his tunic.  “Maybe I’ll be able to sneak home to Amele afterwards.”  He winked.  “She LOVES this uniform.”

“Just don’t get it TOO dirty, Lieutenant.”  The pair of guardsmen turned to see Clif Buxton bustling in with what appeared to be more dress uniforms, which he proceeded to hang in the stalls of their respective guardsmen.  “As I’m the one who has to clean them.”  Clif Buxton was an older man, maybe around sixty, with the wrinkles and lines that came with those advanced years but still hale and hearty for all that.  Clif was shorter than Kellan, but not small; he had a solidity to him that made him seem larger than he actually was.  His dark-colored hair, which at the point had gone almost entirely gray, was kept short in the style worn by most of the guardsmen.

Clif had been maintaining the Garrison since before Alergast joined the guard.  He wasn’t a native of Sandpoint, and there was a lot of speculation about what he might have done prior to arriving.  It seemed like he had some sort of military background.  Army?  Guard?  Mercenary?  No one really knew.  Clif was pretty close-mouthed about his history.

But at this point not too many people even asked him about it anymore.  The guardsmen considered him to be almost one of the guard, and they appreciated the close and detailed care he took of their uniforms, equipment, and facilities.

“Thanks, Clif.”  Alergast gestured to the uniforms he and Kellan were wearing.  “I wasn’t sure these would even be ready before or meeting.  I should never have doubted!  How do we look?”  He struck a pose next to Kellan.

“Like heroes, Lieutenant.  Like heroes.” Clif gave them a wistful smile, as if the events of the past few days were weighing on him.  “And isn’t that just what Sandpoint needs right now?”  He looked back and forth between the two guardsmen.  “Is there anything you need before you meet the Mayor?”

---

---

"You're a true friend, you know that?" Kellan replied with a sarcastic grin in response to Alergasts promise to come and get him should things go poorly with Ven Vinder down the line. Momentarily he was reminded of the fear he had felt in the basement, trapped,  with his half naked daughter, in the dark. He had been extremely lucky that night.

After inspecting the uniform he found it just about flawless, Clif did a hell of a job and possessed a practiced eye for wrinkles, threads and creases.

When Alergast mentioned Amele, Kellan couldnt help but laugh "If you can pull that off right after a funeral I'd be impressed." He had been to a couple funerals before, but always for older people, and never in uniform. He did not quite know what to expect.

Even the modest young farm boy had to admit that they looked pretty sharp. It was amazing what a good scrubbing and some fresh clothes could do, and perhaps Shayliss would appreciate the effort...

"Clif!" Kellan greeted the man as he entered. "How you manage to get these boots to take such a deep shine, I'll never know." He looked down and marveled "I can see Alergasts little rank pins in them, like a mirror...thank you"

He nearly blushed when Clif remarked that they looked like heroes. "Well at least we look the part then" he replied with a slap to Alergasts back "I think I'm good...I'm going to run a cloth over this blade before we go, but that should only take a moment."

Once done he opened the door for his Mentor and waved to Clif "Thanks again Clif, I owe you a pint at the least" then shut the door behind them as they left
This message was last edited by the player at 22:46, Fri 20 June 2014.

---

---

The pair of guardsmen walked up the stairs and down to the Garrison’s entrance, receiving an amiable “looking good, gentlemen!” from Caul Thatcher as they exited onto Main Street and headed over to City Hall.

“I think we’ll probably be the first ones there,” said Alergast as they made their way across the street, trying to ignore the admiring glances from passing womenfolk.  “It’s a little before fifth bell, but it never hurts to be early.  And maybe we can prepare the Mayor so that she has some time to think about what you all found down below the Glassworks before everyone arrives.”  He opened the door for Kellan and followed him in.

The interior of City Hall, as always, seemed more of a noble’s residence or the administrative offices of a large city rather than that of an outlying town like Sandpoint.  Although Sandpoint certainly had aspirations.  The two men felt right at home in their dress uniforms; they had no need to feel out-of-place with well-used weapons or grimy faces this time around.

They climbed the stairs, looking for all the world like the senior officer of a large army and his most-trusted adjutant.  They reached the top of the stairs, straightened their uniforms in the large mirror, then proceeded to open the door to the mayor’s offices.

“Mayor Deverin, we . . .,”  Alergast began before stopping in mid-sentence, staring.  Lolling in a chair across the room was none other than Shalelu Andosana, and the elven woman was most definitely NOT dressed up for the funeral.  Her well-worn leathers were dirty and rent in places, and her green, color-shifting cloak sported a few new tears.

“Hello,” she said to Alergast, then “[Language unknown: ughorevoreau, ce onsintres tiolarkor ol eitipa,]” to Kellan.  “The mayor will be along shortly.  You were just the men I was hoping to see.”

---

---

This message was last edited by the GM at 05:38, Tue 24 June 2014.

Kellan was feeling fully awake and more or less recovered after his scouring and the exhilaration of strolling through town in his dress blues. He gave several polite smiles and waves as they went and took a moment to relish the feeling of the sun on his back through the fine material.

Things were going to be alright.

Crossing the polished floors of the somewhat opulent City Hall the boy opened the door expecting to find a Mayor Deverins matronly vissage, but was shocked to find his friend and former tutor instead.

"Shalelu!" He started and quickly made his way over towards her. "What's happened? Are you hurt?" Any sort of proprietary was momentarily set aside as he looked over her soiled clothes and rent armor, his face full of concern.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:27, Wed 25 June 2014.

---

---

Shalelu smiled at Kellan’s concern.  “I am fine, thank you,” she said, waving her hand through the air as if she had really experienced nothing out of the ordinary.  “Scouting can be rough on one’s wardrobe.  Especially where, as here, the need to obtain information requires a more . . . hands-on approach.  So no, I am not hurt.”  She winked.  “I cannot say the same for some of the goblins between here and Thistletop, however.”

She gave Kellan and Alergast an admiring look.  “You two look very nice.  I’ve been informed of the upcoming funeral ceremony.”  She glanced down at her battle-ravaged attire and sighed.  “I’m hoping to have time to run down to The Rusty Dragon to wash up a little and change before it begins.”

She stretched and looked around Kellan and Alergast, as if expecting to see others arriving any moment.  “Do you know where the others are?  I’ve been told that the young scholar will be attending, along with Father Zantus and his two acolytes.  Dav Hosk might be along as well.  And of course the gnome.”  She tapped the arm of her chair.  “I was hoping we could start our get-together sooner rather than later.  I think we all probably have important information that the others need to know.”

---

---

Kellan stood back and broke into a slight smile as if impressed by the Elfs stoicism about the whole thing. Most would have to think long and had about going into Goblin territory alone, even with Hosk along it was no small feat. Those little beady eyes and swollen heads watching from every draw and glen for days at a time...

"Oh...your sure? You had me worried for a moment. We do have news, although I can hardly believe it myself...Cato or Liseth can probably explain it all better than I can."

He stood and recovered his weapon "I think they all went to the Dragon, so you'll probably find them over thay way...Liseth and Kerr may have gone over to the Temple, and well, you just never know with Pisca. She could be anywhere."

He glanced to Alergast, then back to the Ranger "I guess we'll just stay here then and wait for the mayor?"

---

---

CONTINUED IN CHAPTER #7d:  A DESPERATE PLAN

---

---