---

---

Kellan opened the door to Savah’s Armory and ushered Pisca inside.  As he followed her in, his jaw dropped to see the change that had overcome the shop since he had last visited.  At least twelve customers were milling about the previously well-maintained aisles.  The shiny rows of weapons and armor were clearly depleted.  Some lay scattered on the ground, apparently discarded by persons suddenly deciding that the items were not up for their intended task.  Britt Duskfen, Savah’s harried-looking young apprentice, was busily returning such items to their appointed places.

Savah looked up as Kellan and Pisca entered, not a strand out of place on her long, dark, braided hair despite the fact that she’d clearly had a very busy day.  “Ho, Kellan,” she called from across the room, excusing herself from Scot “Scooter” Porkins, a middle-aged man who Kellan knew very well was a law-abiding farmer.  Kellan was pretty sure Scooter had never held a weapon in his life and didn’t know much more about their use than that one was supposed to stick one’s opponent with the pointy end.  Yet here he was, amongst other townspeople from the outlying farmsteads, evaluating weapons like he was some sort of mercenary.

“It’s been crazy,” Savah noted apologetically as she approached.  Kellan was always taken aback by how tall the woman was; she was only an inch or two shorter than him.  It was especially noticeable up close.  Kellan had never seen any woman built for fighting like Savah Bevaniky.  “I’ve had townspeople and farmfolk in the store constantly ever since the mayor’s announcement.  Those as aren’t in the militia want weapons for themselves, and those that are want weapons for the families should worst come to worst.”  She looked back over her shoulder and sighed.  “I’ve been trying to push them towards weapons that don’t take much training and with which they have the least chance to hurt themselves.  The smarter ones take my advice.  The others?”  She shot a glance back at Scooter Porkins.  “Well, they want what they want.”  She looked back at Kellan.  “So It’s nice to serve a customer who knows what he’s about.”

She suddenly noticed Pisca, who had to that point been hidden by the intervening customers, shelves, armor, and weapons.  “Pisca!”  The large shopkeeper said, as if this wasn’t the very first time the two had met.  Savah knelt down to diminish the difference in size.  “It is a pleasure to meet you.  I’ve heard all about your exploits.  It’s nice to see someone giving the boys a run for their money, if you know what I mean.”  She gave the gnome a conspiratorial wink.

She stood,  giving both human and gnome a tired smile.  “What can I do for you two?”

---

---

Kellan entered the shop half in conversation with his gnomes friend and was practically struck dumb by the change in Savahs inventory. Where were the well ordered racks of gleaming weapons? The harnessess and helmets? Had the little town really been able to scrape up enough to practically buy her out?

He knew Sarah Bevaniky would never gouge her neighbors, but she was sure to come out well if any of them lived through this.

"Hey Savah...looks like a war broke out. How are you holding up?"

He glanced over at Porkins who was trying to heft a massive Shoanti Earthshaker that had been left in the corner. If if the farmer could lift it Kellan doubted that the man could stay on target.

"So..." he began, lowering his voice. "The founding families have given us a chit, and apparently that means that they are funding our next sortie...anything we need. It's gonna be rough" his tone indicative of just what their estimated chances were.

"If I'm going in there I want to be wearing your steel Savah...Do you have anything left that might help turn the tide?"

He looked around doubtfully, but one never knew. Savah was known to have some pretty exotic pieces at times, sometimes well beyond the price of most locals.

It had been hard not to fidget.  Pisca had walked next to Stomper in silent thought.  Why had he said that?  Was it true?  Was she really no longer ... in with Jubrayl and them?  Had Kellan Storval become the unwitting vessel of some divine force that had taken him over to deliver a small piece of her destiny?

Pisca had taken a covert sidelong glance up at Stomper's face to see if she might find some clue as to what had been intended for her there.  At the very least, it would have been quite the interesting thing to catch a glimpse of a god as it worked its will through an earthly vessel.  But the Stomper she glimpsed was little different than Stomper as he'd always been.  A little more pleased than usual, maybe.  With a calm air of confidence that might, in a different setting, inspire men to follow him.

Why was it that he had said what he said.  Even now, in the shop, listening to the nice things said by the truly ginormous human woman, Pisca was hard pressed to make much sense of it.  And yet, Stomper's words had required a response.  They were just those sorts of words.  And so, just outside the shop, before they'd opened the door and entered, Pisca had wrapped Stomper's leg in a hug.  It had been a hug full of feeling but ill defined in its meaning.  Very much true to the gnome's feelings, while, at the same time, being very suited to her confusion.

"Would you happen to have any of the things on this list?" Pisca asked.  She opened her book to the appropriate page and held it up for Savah to see.  "We're going to ... have more exploits, you see," the gnome explained.  Then, thinking that further explanation might bring more benefit than harm, she gestured to the tree-tall human woman to come down to a more normal level so that they could speak in whispered ears.  Stomper's tone of voice had spoken some to the situation that they'd be entering.  But, the mission that they'd be leaving on tomorrow was desperate beyond words.  And, perhaps, it required words to truly understand it.

"We're assaulting Thistletop tomorrow," came the soft words of the gnome.  "The goblin stronghold.  The five of us.  Stomper, me, Cato, Liseth, and The Boyfriend.  Oh, and Shalelu Andosana too.  We're not supposed to tell people for fear of spies.  And fear of panic.  Panic too.  But it seems to me that if you know what we'll be facing, you can better equip us with what we need, and that will give us a better chance of coming back alive."

For ease, here's Pisca's list:

Mithral Shirt
Eyes of the Eagle
Handy Haversack
Ring of Protection +1
Ring of Featherfalling
Wand of Longstrider
Wand of Guidance
Boots of Striding and Springing
Scroll of CLW

Masterwork Shortbow
Masterwork Rapier
Cold Iron Arrows (20)
Alchemical, Silver Arrows (20)
This message was last edited by the player at 02:54, Tue 15 July 2014.

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“Me?”  Savah laughed in response to Kellan’s inquiry.  “Oh, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.  And letting a lot of weapons and armor go for pretty close to my cost, to tell you the truth.  I figure that hey, if the goblins end up sacking the town, they’ll have the inventory, not me.”  She gestured around the room to the racks of weapons and armor.  “So I figure the best place for it is with folks that plan to fight them.  It doesn’t do the town much good stacked in here, that’s the truth.”

Savah’s mirth died as Kellan showed her his chit from the League.  She reached out and touched it, then looked at the guardsman in wonder.  “That’s,” she said, her voice hushed as she took in the full import of what Kellan had said . . . and what he hadn’t.  “That’s something you don’t see every day.”  Her eyes went slightly out of focus for a second, as if she were thinking, then snapped back into their normal brightness.  “Here,” she motioned the gnome and the guardsman along, “follow me.”

The armorer examined Pisca’s list as she led the pair back to what looked like her private office.  She sat down, listening quietly as the gnome shared the details of the desperate quest they were about to undertake.  Savah paled slightly at the implications of such a mission, then sat forward in her chair, elbows on the table.

“Spies?”  Savah looked taken aback, as if the thought of any of Sandpoint’s citizens working with the town’s attackers had never even occurred to her.  “Is that really a concern?”  She gave Pisca a doubtful glance; it appeared as though the prospect of terror spreading through Sandpoint seemed more realistic to her.  “No, no, we wouldn’t want any panic,” she said, thinking again.

“What do I have that might turn the tide?”  She said to herself in a musing tone.  “Well,” she said, hitting Pisca’s list with the back of her hand, “I have ten each of cold iron arrows and silver arrows you can have.”  She tapped her fingers on the table.  “But they’re medium-sized, so won’t do you much good, Pisca.  Although . . . .”  She stood, walking over to a reinforced trunk in her office.  Producing a key from somewhere, she unlocked and opened it, reaching inside to remove its contents.

She turned around, holding an vicious-looking, medium-sized repeating crossbow with a darkwood-and-ivory stock.  “I just finished repairing this a couple of weeks ago,” she said, looking down at the weapon as if it were a particularly-beloved child.  “I was hoping to sell it to one of my . . . more well-to-do customers, but if your group can find a use for it, it's yours.”  She placed the crossbow on the table, where both Kellan and Pisca could see small, silver runes etched into the stock.

“Yes, it’s magical,” Savah nodded proudly, as if she’d enchanted it herself.  “Haven’t quite completely figured out the enchantment yet.”  She gave the pair a meaningful look.  “But maybe you two have resources I don’t.”  She ran a hand lovingly down the length of the weapon.  “Do you think this is something you can use?”

---

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This message was last edited by the player at 15:44, Tue 15 July 2014.

Life, in many respects, is a matter of dealing with disappointment.  Success in life, therefore, depended on how well one managed.  This was most especially true in cases in which one was expected to show this or that degree of gratitude.

"That's a very nice crossbow, Misses Savah," the gnome said, wandering over to admire the cartridge mechanism which held the stacked bolts.  "Cato could probably suss how the magic works, don't you think, Stomper?"  Pisca ran her hands over the smoothness of the stock and peered at the runes.  The best way to manage disappointment was to quash it with curiosity.  And, in the Estimation of Pisca, she was managing quite well now.  "In fact, Cato might quite like this.  Or, maybe Kerr Mollin."

The gnome lifted the hand-fitted crossbow to her shoulder to see if its magic might just want to perch there and swivel about, automatically firing at targets of her choice.

"Tchk, tchk.  Its alright," Pisca coaxed, but the elegant weapon tipped and slipped and just didn't seem to be able to grasp the idea of shoulder perching.  "Oh well, we'll figure its magic out, Misses Savah.  Then, after we come back, we can return it to you with the magic fully known."

"If, that is, we return."

"By the way ... " with the hummie-sized weapon cradled under one arm, Pisca tracked and imaginary target, "zzzpang ... Do you mind if we name it?" she asked.  "I was thinking something like Shadow Tack," she said.

"Or, maybe Staple Gun."

Linguistics check to try and read the runes in the stock of the crossbow, please.

"Or maybe ... just ... Banks."

Pisca held the weapon out at arms length and eyed the runes once again.  "Do you see this series of runes," she said, holding the proper side of the crossbow up for first Savah Bevaniky and next for Kellan to see.  "If the radical elements of these runes are similar to  the ones I'm familiar with, this says something about better accuracy."

"Is this thing loaded?  Do you have the bolts for this Misses Savah?"  Without waiting for a reply, the gnome pulled the clip from the crossbow and peered in to check for herself.  "Do you have something I can use as a target?  We put a big cloth up in front of the target to hide it, then the gnome aims pretty much in the area that the target's in.  If the bolt hits, we know something new.  If the bolt doesn't hit, we also know something knew."

Testing whether this is a Seeking weapon or not.

Kellan seemed a little surprised that Savah of all people would be in possession of such an oddity. Sandpoint was not the spot mist would look for a magical crossbow, much less one with the kind of complicated engineering this one seemed to possess.

"Oh wow, where did you get that?...and how long have you had it?"

He reached out and touched the fine wood.

"I dont know who would use it...but it is beautiful.  I dont suppose you have any heavier armor lying around anywhere? Or would know anybody who might?"

---

---

"Do I have any heavier armor?"  Savah stopped and stared at Kellan as if he might be joking.  "Please."  She tossed her braid.  "You know I have all sorts of armors.  The only question is what kind of armor you're looking for and if I have it in your size.  And if I don't have what you're looking for, there's a small possibility Das Korvut might have something.  What were you thinking you needed?"

Savah nodded at Kellan as he inquired about the repeating crossbow.  "It's not something you would find in my normal inventory, that is for certain."  She tossed her braid back over her shoulder.  "But a few weeks back one of my normal merchant contacts came through, and this was one of the things he had on offer."  She shrugged.  "I normally wouldn't be interested in product like that.  Who would I sell it too?  But at the time the weapon was damaged and unusable, and I thought I might be able to fix it up."  She smiled.  "I don't have to tell you I obtained it for a steep discount.  So it was a little like a wager on my own weaponsmithing skills."

"I've been working on it for the last few weeks during my spare time.  I just finished polishing it up last night."  She gestured to the weapon.  "It looks pretty good, doesn't it?"  She grinned.  "If I do say so myself."

"The bolts are in it, Pisca," the armorer responded as she strode over to the box from which she had retrieved the repeating crossbow; she now withdrew another clip and an elongated pouch.  "It came with another full clip.  I bargained the guy out of all his remaining bolts, which are here."  She raised the pouch.  "He really didn't need them any more, so I got them as a throw-in on another deal."  She gave a slightly-predatory smile.

Savah had a reputation as a savvy businesswoman.

"That's an interesting idea, Pisca," Savah said in response to the gnome's crossbow-experiment suggestion.  "Let's test it out!  Excuse me for a moment."  The big woman left the room momentarily, reappearing after a brief absence with an eyelet-ed blanket that she proceeded to hang over one side of the shop.  She left again, returning shortly with an armorer's dummy, placing it somewhere behind the curtain.

"Okay, I think we're ready.  But the crossbow's a little big for you, Pisca.  If we want a proper experiment we'll need someone larger to fire it."  She gestured at the guardsman.  "Kellan, why don't you take the shot?"  Kellan obligingly took the weapon from Pisca, aimed it at the curtain, and pulled the trigger.

The bolt sped across the room and plunged directly into the armorer's dummy.  Savah looked over at Pisca with a raised eyebrow.  "I think you may have something there, Pisca.  Good show."

OOC:  There are 10 bolts in a clip.  The weapon has two loaded clips and 20 more bolts in the folded pouch.

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This message was last edited by the player at 20:37, Tue 15 July 2014.

Kellan smirked, he had always liked Savah, direct, fair and to the point. She had even put up with his nigh constant window shopping over the years, and indulged his somewhat more specialized questions on the matters of metallurgy and construction.

Sandpoint was lucky to have her.

"The heaviest you can sell me" he replied, letting out a half laugh and showing his farm boy smile.

"I'm not planning on doing cartwheels or winning any races, so whatever you have that is going to stop a barrage of goblin arrows, or the teeth of those damn dogs of theres...I want to be able to wade hip deep in the little bastards"

The guard was not in the habit of carrying shields, something he and Alergast had discussed at length as they weighed the pros and cons of the matter. As such Kellan would be forced to rely on whatever his shoulders could bear.

The hurt looks that had blossomed on the gnome's face - the frowning eyes and the pooching lip - when the crossbow had been taken from her, gave way to a bright smile that was quite pleased with itself as her experiment succeeded, bearing its fruit of knowledge.

"That's a nice crossbow," she said.  Too bad it wouldn't perch on her shoulder.  But, it would probably have gotten in the way of her hat anyway.

Then, as Stomper began talking about armor, Pisca held up her book once again, pointing to one particular item on the list.  "Mithral, please?"  It was a hopeful question.  Maybe a wishful request.  "Do you have any mithral for a gnome?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:43, Tue 15 July 2014.

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---

Savah looked slightly taken aback at Pisca's request.  Then she shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Pisca.  Mithral is really very rare.  I've been doing this for years and I've only seen one suit of it."  Her eyes glazed over.  "It was amazing.  So light!  I can't believe that a metal can be that light and yet that hard."  Her eyes focused again.  "You might be able to find someone with mithral to work in Magnimar.  Or Korvosa.  But you won't find any in Sandpoint, as far as I know.  More's the pity."

"Hip deep in the enemy?"  The dark-haired woman favored Kellan with a knowing smile.  "I think I might have something for you."  She looked Kellan up and down.  "Come with me, Guardsman Storval."

She led Kellan and Pisca out of the office and back to the store area.  Some of the shoppers had filed out to get ready for the funeral, possibly having made a purchase from Britt, possibly to shop another day.  Two or three late customers still lingered, however.

Savah led the small group directly to the armor section, where she immediately waded into some of the heavier armors and came back with a nice-looking set of half-plate.  "Don't get a lot of call for this, as it is very heavy.  Maybe a merchant caravan, maybe someone who's going to be doing some close-in work that doesn't call for a lot of agility."  She eyed Kellan.  "Sounds like that's you."  She gestured to the set of armor, which included both plate and chainmail elements, a gauntlet and a helm.  "Want it?"

---

---

Kellan knelt down and got right in close to the armor, inspecting the rivets, the thickness and the edges of the plate. If he was going to trust his life to this stuff, he wanted to make sure it fit the bill.

"It's nice..." he began, looking up to Savah from where he knelt.

"It sounds like we may have to do a lot of crawling however, place just isnt built for people like us. And this chainmail under the plate here"

He pointed it out

"Could bind or bunch up under there...what I would need if something fitted,  with some articulation in these areas" he pointed again.

"It's a generous offer Savah, and I know asking for custom work on a days notice is ridiculous" he grinned and stood "but thanks for dragging it out anyway" again gesturing to the beautiful suit of armor

"Thank you," said Pisca, echoing Kellan's gratitude.  "Are you sure, Stomper?  It's very ... stout?" suggested the gnome.

"Well, thank you again for trying, Misses Savah.  Maybe I'll bring Mithral to Sandpoint someday.  Maybe.  Someday."  The gnome nodded to herself, lost in thought.  There would be no Mithral.  They would have to make do with what came to hand.  Or to take it from their enemies as they went along.  She was lucky in a way.  Most of the things that they'd taken in the Thassilonian ruins were perfect for her.

For now, they'd just have to make do.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Thu 17 July 2014.

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“Come on, you’re not going to hurt MY feelings, Storval,” said Savah with a grin, slugging Kellan in the shoulder with a surprising amount of force.  “What am I, a wilting violet?  You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to offend me.  Either you think the armor’s going to help you out where you’re going or you don’t.  I want you to be in whatever you think best fits your needs, not in something that doesn’t for fear of offending me.”

She frowned.  “That said, it seems like there’s not a lot I can do for you at the moment.  Look, once this is all over why don’t you check in with Das Korvut and I about getting you something heavier that’s fitted just for you?  We’ll have a lot more time and can probably get you exactly what you need.  And if you make it through this,” she winked, “you’ll probably have more than enough coin for it, if only from the town’s grateful womenfolk throwing their coppers in your direction.”

She turned her attention to her sole gnomish customer.  “You’re welcome!  And the same goes for you, Pisca.  If you find some mithral out there bring it to me and I’ll see what can be done.  We might even be able to melt it down and fashion some new armor out of it.  I know Das knows the trick of it.  He might look like a brick wall, but when it comes to smithing there aren’t too many things that are beyond him.”

---

---

The gnome gave a firm and confident nod of her head, as though she could, even now, see the mithral in the distance, and all that needed to be done was for her to fight her way to it and bring it back.  "I will!"  Pisca raised determined eyes to the face of Savah Bevaniky and gives another smart nod of affirmation.

"And, uh, speaking of the town's womenfolk, Stomper ... "  The gnome turned her attention to her young human guards-friend.  "We should get moving if you want to see Shayliss Vinder before the funeral."  And then Pisca shared a big, white grin with the proprietress of the armory while pointing directly up at Kellan Storval.  The gesture alone spoke of secrets, and pleasure, and possibilities.

Kellan, unbeknownst to Savah, was very grateful that she had mentioned them coming back. He had not really given a lot of serious consideration to the way things may be if they did survive the next few days, but having things to look forward to helped.

"Sounds good Savah, thanks again"

The thoughts of what kind of armor he might like to have made, the differant styles and philosophies at the least kept the darker thoughts at bay. The likelihood that some or all of them may not return buried beneath the weight of fantasy.

At the mention of Shayliss and the Vinders Kellan nodded, eager to see them.

"Your right Pisca, we better get moving. Wish us luck" he called to Savah as they filed out,  making a bee line towards the general store and sprucing up his dress uniform on the way.

"We'll be back."  The look on the gnome's face was stern and determined.  Her voice was ... different.  Oddly accented.  But, then she burst into her usual infectious smile and waved a good-bye as she rushed out the door after Stomper.  And she was Pisca again.

"You should bring her something, Stomper," said the gnome as she ran alongside.  "Human girls like to be brought stuff.  Or so I hear.  Sweets.  Or flowers."

"Probably not a bat-winged head."

There probably wouldn't be that much that would help.  Maybe some climbing equipment.  Maybe some smokesticks.  Or a pepperbag.  Or a book.  Goblins hated books.

But, then again, buying things wasn't really the main point in going to the General Store, was it?  It was to have a word with Vin Vinder about his daughter Katrine.  There was still danger there.  Maybe not so much as the goblin invasion.  But, if they all lived, someone would still have to steer the owner of the General Store away from the Scarnetti's.  It seemed that they liked to play with fire.

Kellan paused in his tracks and smiled at his gnomish friend, it was a real smile and somehow it seemed to defy the oppresive mood of funerals and battle plans.

"Pisca, you are a genius. I was about to walk in there empty handed...but this, this is a plan.

He glanced up at the sky and nodded

"If we hurry we can just pull it off I think"

Kellan hustled over to Vernahs fine clothing, entering the shop like a whirlwind of amorous intent.

After a brief look around he settled on dark green hair ribbon with a gold border and a kind of intricate knot design in the same gold thread.

In his mind it was a good first gift, and would fit her far skin and red hair quite well. And hopefully it wouldn't set off any alarms for Venn.

Folded up and wrapped in a little parcel with string, he set back off again towards the general store, eager to see her reaction

"*heh*  I'm a genius."  The proud gnome followed her human friend into the dress shop.  It was a good choice.  Better than sweets.  Better even than flowers.  Both were transient.  Both would fade and soon be gone.  Neither would be a token for her to remember him by if he never came back from Thistletop.  Neither would serve as a memento to show their child years from now.  The child that would be born of their single night of desperate passion before he went off to die.  Or, at least, the child that Pisca imagined that they would have.  Humans were always having children.  It was very possibly the single thing that they did best.

These are the choco biscuits that your father gave me just before going off to save Sandpoint from the goblin attack, during the Even More Recent Unpleasantness.  I cherish them and keep them wrapped in paper, stored in my box of memories.  It's all that we have left of him.  And they're too stale to eat now anyway.

In the store, Pisca pointed out to Kellan a black velvet choker upon which was set an amethyst stone.  But, in truth, the suggestion had more to do with Pisca - the color of the amethyst setting off the violet of her eyes quite nicely - than it had to do with Shayliss Vinder.  The gnome, then gave a smile and a thumbs up at Kellan's choice.  He had a good eye for a gift.  And before the pair left the shop, Pisca picked up the black velvet choker with the lavender stone for herself.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:08, Fri 18 July 2014.

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“You’re most welcome, Kellan.  Anytime.”  She nodded as she began shooing the last customers out of her store.  “I’m looking forward to working with Das to get you into something really special.”

Savah gave Pisca a wink as the gnome made her reference to Shayliss, as if the smaller woman need say no more.  “Go on, Guardsman Storval, and see that girl of yours.”  The tall weaponsmith grinned at Pisca, furthering the fun.  “I’m sure she’ll be hanging on EVERY word.”  She winked at the young guardsman.  “And nearly falling out of some formal dress or another, unless I miss my guess.”

The armory's proprietress waved as the pair left her store, as slightly-wistful grin still on her face.

---

---

---

---

Vernah was just about to close up her shop, but she was happy to stay open for a few more minutes once Kellan and Pisca arrived.  Especially after she found out (from Pisca, naturally) about the purpose of their visit.  The older woman puttered around the shop with the big guardsman, pointing out various favorites, and finally cooing with delight when Kellan selected the hair ribbon.  The shopkeeper absolutely insisted on wrapping up the present for free, presenting the neatly-packaged gift to him with a wink and a smile.

The gray-haired woman made approving noises about Pisca’s choice as well.  “That will look absolutely adorable on you, my dear,” she noted with authority as she totalled up the purchases with a smile and reminded both of them that the funeral ceremony would be starting at the top of the hour.  She accompanied them out, waving them off to the General Store before locking up and heading off towards Northchurch Square for the ceremony.

---

---

---

---

Kellan and Pisca arrived at the General Store just as the Vinders were leaving.  Ven, Katrine, and Shayliss were all together, each dressed very nicely.  Ven wore a humongous black suit that must have been the product of some highly-skilled bespoke tailor; it accentuated his shoulders, slimmed his torso, and made him look even more indomitably gargantuan than normal.  Katrine wore a powder-blue, high-necked, floor-length dress that shimmered about her form and highlighted the smoky duskiness of her hair and features.  Shayliss, on the other hand, was attired in a calf-length emerald dress that, while still remaining within a tortured definition of the word “modesty,” showed off her amazing cleavage to its best advantage.

The three of them, however, were clearly not having a happy-family time at that moment.  Ven was flushed red, as if near to exploding.  Katrine looked as if she was about to burst into tears.  And Shayliss’s green eyes were shooting daggers at her father.

“I told you, Shay, I want you to cover up, not display yourself like some sort of wanton street harlot . . . .”  Ven stopped as he spied Kellan and Pisca coming up the steps, although he quickly dismissed Pisca with his eyes to focus on Kellan, as if he had finally found an appropriate avenue down which he could vent his pent-up rage.  The fact that Shayliss burst into a radiant smile and slightly thrust out her chest in response to seeing the guardsman didn’t help things.

At all.

“Storval.”  The Vinder patriarch’s voice was rough gravel scraping against cut stone.  “What.  Are.  You.  Doing.  Here?”

---

---

Kellan took Savahs ribbing in good stride, grinning in an almost embarrassed way as he waved to the Amazonian armorer.

Vernah was nothing but a help, and although Kellan appreciated Piscas input, a black choker seemed a little...sensual...for a gift at this point in the relationship. He had to admit however that Piscas opinion was more valid than most as she was obviously aware of the challenges of feminine endowment.

The young guardsman was eager to give Shayliss the beautifully wrapped gift and ascended the steps to the general store with a spirited gait. When he opened the door however he was practically taken aback by the combination of Shayliss's loveliness and her Fathers aggressivness.

That had apparently arrived at a difficult time.

"Mister Vinder" he began with a little dip of his head, his dress uniform suddenly feeling very warm.

"We came over for a few reasons sir, we are leaving soon for a mission and the mayor gave us these chits" he held it up in his off hand.

"We thought that you may be able to help outfit us." He glanced to Pisca and nodded in the gnomes direction.

He next held up his gift in his wrapping.

"With your permission,  I also brought a gift for Shayliss...I dont know when we might be coming back, so it seemed like a good time" he left out the "if we come back" but his inflection betrayed the seriousness of their objective. He managed to steal a glance at Shayliss while he spoke, but was careful to keep his gaze firmly above the neck. As difficult as that was.

"We're.  Here.  On.  BUSINESS!"  The gnome whipped out the chit given to her by the Sandpoint Mercantile League.  If nothing else spoke of business it was that powerful sigil of unlimited credit.

"This symbol of the Mercantile League speaks to just how serious our business is."  Pisca waved her chit around as she strode with great self-importance amongst all of the Big People.  "We need supplies that might mean the difference between living to return to Sandpoint or not."

"It will look really nice with that dress," Pisca whispered up at Shayliss Vinder in passing.

"I've got a list."  Again the book came out, and the gnome opened it to the proper page.  "We don't need the arrows.  Misses Savah has already given us those.  And we'd be happy to receive any other suggestions on things we should take.  Suggestions of a life-saving sort, if you don't mind.  I was thinking that some rope might be useful.  Some smokesticks.  But, I'm sure you have some life experience that we don't.  Something valuable that will help us in some future time of need."

All this time, the gnome suggested, and hinted, and even tugged at Ven Vinder, in an heroic attempt to open a socially neutral zone between the mountainous human and his pair of daughters.  "By the way, have you ever had a conversation with a gnome about raising children?" she asked the dark and towering hummie.

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Ven’s dark-chocolate eyes flashed at Kellan, but the sight of the Mercantile League’s sigil seemed to calm him down.  Slightly.  The big man took two deep breaths, as if centering himself, then spoke.  “Guardsman Storval.”  He glanced downward.  “Pisca.  I’m sure your ‘business’ is important.  Unfortunately, my store is closed at this point.  And I am not going to miss the funeral ceremony simply because you’re on a . . . . shopping spree for the League.”

Shayliss blushed and giggled at Pisca’s whispered comment.  Katrine winked at the gnome.  Ven’s eyes hardened.

The big shopkeeper took another deep breath.  He was slightly less red-in-the-face at this point, but he still pointedly pushed Pisca’s pad away.   “If you wish, you are both welcome to join us as we walk to the ceremony.  After it’s over, we can come back here and I’ll see what I have that might help you on your . . . mission.”  He looked over at Kellan.  “And you can give Shay your gift then as well.  I know I’m greatly looking forward to watching her open it.”  The emphasis the elder Vinder put on the word “greatly” promised a decidedly-murky future for anyone with the temerity to give his daughter a gift he felt unsuitable to her dignity.

“And I can’t recall,” he said, looking down again at Pisca, “ever having much of a conversation with a gnome on any topic.  Now,” he said, herding his ladies down the steps and onto Main Street, “are you two coming?”

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"Never?  Never had a conversation with a gnome?"  Pisca pivoted from incredulity to insouciance with the drop of a metaphorical hat.  "Your loss," she shrugged.

"Gnomes are witty and entertaining.  And full of wisdom too.  And full of secrets too.  Right girls?"  Pisca skipped down the stairs and onto the street where she performed a twirling dance before Shayliss and Katrine, milking the feminine solidarity while she had it.  Let Ven Vinder wish he had sons.  That would fit her plans to a T.  Pisca gave Stomper a wink.

"Well, come on then, we've got a funeral to attend," chirped the gnome in a carefree tone not at all suited for a funeral.  "For a gnome, its the time to celebrate the lives of the recently departed."

Kellan just could'nt figure ot out. He had literally just cut the head off an ancient demon priestess that morning, and here he was with knots in his stomach over Venn Vinder, the local general store proprietar.

And yet, this man was not some faceless enemy to be confronted and stabbed at in the dark. He was a sentinel watching over the girl who was quickly becoming a significant factor in his life, his thinking and his decision making. Kellan knew he could hack things to death, he was much less sur he could earn this mans respect, or even his approval.

"That sounds like it'll work just fine. Thank you." He nodded and fell into step with the Vinder family as they all walked towards the square.

He let Pisca fill the awkward silence and was grateful for it. The less chance he had to say something potentially enraging the better in his mind.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:17, Tue 22 July 2014.

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CONTINUED IN CHAPTER #7h:  THE RITE STUFF

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