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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.