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Pisca waved goodbye to Ameiko, Cato, and Kellan as they entered the Rusty Dragon, then continued down Salmon Street to Jubrayl Vhiski's Fatman's Feedbag, Sandpoint's most-notorious tavern.  She could still see the chalk outlines from where Vhiski (or perhaps his frontman Gressel Tenniwar) had set up a fighting circle for the festival earlier in the day.

As Pisca entered the Feedbag, which was filled with its regular clientele of Varisian scoundrels, Sczarni con artists, and less-than-reputable sailors, she saw Jubrayl Vhiski sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room.  The sharp-eyed man had, of course, spotted her as soon as she entered the tavern, despite the fact that he was talking to a beautiful woman of, um, impressive assets and (if anything could be interpreted from her choice of clothing) loose morals.

Vhiski visibly sighed and raised an eyebrow at the gnome; an eyebrow which said "what are you doing here and how much of a ruckus will you make before you leave?"

---

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The gnome sauntered into the Fatman's Feedbag.  In all of Sandpoint a more wretched hive of scum and villainy was not to be found.  She released the two half doors and heard them *flap*flap*flap* closed behind her.  Hooking one thumb into her belt, she tipped back the big hummie hat with the other and moseyed across the floor.  In her ears was the quiet jingle of her spurs.  Pisca, the Mysterious Stranger, ignored the looks from the lanky dark-haired man in the corner and made her way to a stool at the bar where she climbed to a seat ... to a stand upon the seat, and turned back to lean against the bar facing the greater room in general.

"Ah heard we had ourselves a goblin attack, Boys," the gnome drawled in an outrageous and distinctly alien accent.  "Good to see y'all came through without too much harm.  We had some deaths, yes sir."  Here she straightened and removed her hat, holding it in front of her as a sign of respect.  "Women and children as well as men and dogs.  Whole town's a grievin'."

"Well, I was standing there amid the blood and the death," the gnome's mouth tightens into a grim line, and though she addresses the room, she seems to examine her hat, "I was standing there amid the blood and death, and I thought, 'Pisca Neep Freemish,' is what I thought to myself, 'you've got some friends down on the docks, at the Fatman's Feedbag."  And though the gnome raised her head, her look did not go to Jubrayl Vhiski, but continued to take in the entire room.  "Best go see that no one got their throat cut by a dogslicer, or hamstrung, or gutted by a horsechopper.  That's what I thought.'"

"Well, it's good to see that y'all are fine and things are business as usual.  That's all I wanted to say."  She replaced the hat on her head and leapt to the floor, landing with a thump and the jangle of imaginary spurs.  Just as slowly and casually as she'd come, the gnome sauntered back to the door, where she turned back to the room.  She made eye contact with two or three of the most dangerous looking thugs in the immediate vicinity and raised a hand to tip the brim of her hat in a sign of departure.

"Hoom hoom."  Once outside again, the gnome turned in the direction of Junker's Way via Main Street.  "Hoom, hoom, hoom," the gnome hoom'ed to herself and then stopped after concluding rather abruptly that today was, perhaps too tragic a day for some pleasant hoom'ing.

Chask Haladan lived somewhere near Rusty Nail Alley.  Or, at least, that's where he had been telling stories.  All she'd have to do is walk around shouting his name until either he answered, or someone got tired of her shouting his name and told her where he lived.  And, after she paid her Librarian a visit - making sure that he was hale and unharmed - she'd go find Lunk.

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Chask Haladan was relaxing in his favorite chair, a glass of wine on the end table, ready to crack open one of the new books he'd had delivered from Magnimar the previous week but had not yet had the time to read.  He looked at the book's pristine spine:

THE EVOLUTION OF BATTLE TACTICS IN THE AGE OF LOST OMENS, 4606-4700

Appropriate, Chask thought with a grimace.  It had been a long day, much longer than he had expected, and the goblin attack at the end had been, well, unexpected too, he thought.  Although it probably deserved a stronger word than "unexpected."

As Chask pondered stronger synonyms, he heard a small commotion outside.

"Flask Paladin!!!!"

A female, small-yet-loud voice was yelling something outside.  He wondered if it was someone driven mad by grief or worry.  He sighed and put his book on the end table next to the wineglass.  He should probably go out and help the poor . . .

"CHASK HALADAN!!!!"

The voice was louder.  Well, that was interesting.  Chask walked over to the window and peered out; he saw Lunk's gnomish friend . . . Pisca, he recalled . . . wandering the streets and calling his name.  Chask gave a small smile; he liked anyone who befriended Lunk.  He unlocked his door and stepped outside.

"Miss Neep Freemish.  Greetings!  Please, there is no need to disturb the entire township."  Chask gave her a smile.  "What is it I can do for you?"

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This message was last edited by the player at 20:45, Fri 20 Sept 2013.

Pisca turned at the sound of her name.  Well, half her name.  She gazed at Chask Haladan's house as she approached the man, admiring it's sheer humminess.  When she reached the door she tipped her head back with one hand to hold her hat on.  There was a big grin on her gnomish face.  "You've already done it, Mister Haladan.  I was just worried.  You know, with the goblins running rampage through the streets."

She tipped her head as though trying to look behind the man for an injury that he might, for some unfathomable reason, be trying to hide from her.  "Hmm.  Well, I guess you're alright, so I'll be running a long.  I have to go see Lunk before heading back to the Rusty Dragon.  Ameiko has given us free rooms for the week.  Me and Kellan Storval and Cato Crispin and Liseth ... um, Thoradin."

"Alergast Barett too.  And his whole family.  No.  That's not right.  Just he and his wife.  I wonder why that would be," Pisca said and scratched her head at the puzzle.

"Well, I should be going.  Just wanted to make sure you were alright.  Which you are.  Despite the limp.  Bye."  Pisca waved behind her as she sped up Main street in the direction of Junker's Way.

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Lunk leaned up against Gorvi's Junkhouse at Junker's Edge.  Lunk was happy.  This was always his happiest time of the day, when all the junk was picked up and Gorvi had drunk himself unconscious.  Then Lunk could just sit around and think without being disturbed.  Thinking was hard work, and Lunk liked quiet so he could concentrate on it.

Lunk was especially happy this evening; he had been a hero!!  He had saved the children and Miss Krasny from being burned, and he wanted to have time to savor it.  Lunk had never been a hero before, and he wanted to milk every last drop of thinking he could out of remembering what it felt like to have the children chanting his name and looking at him as if he was someone important.  Lunk felt a warm glow in his chest and a big smile on his face.

Lunk heard someone coming up Junker's Way; it was his friend Pisca!  Now Lunk was even happier!  He had hoped Pisca was okay during the attack but wasn't really sure where to go looking for her and he had wanted to sit down and think about being a hero.  With a big smile still plastered to his face, Lunk stood up and began walking toward Pisca.

Suddenly a horrible thought struck Lunk.  What if Pisca was hurt?  What if she needed help and had been looking for him while he had been sitting down doing nothing but thinking?  Lunk fretted as he increased his pace towards her.

"Pisca!  Pisca, are you okay?"

---

---

Pisca the Golden Eagle had been riding the currents that came in off the Arcadian Ocean.  With her arms outstretched she held a position high above Junker's Way.  Her keen eyes captured every detail, every movement of the tiny inhabitants of Sandpoint far below.

"Huh?  What?"  Pisca the Golden Eagle heard her name being called, and in a most startling transformation, returned to being Pisca the Frontier Gnome (Currently of Sandpoint).  "Lunk!"  The gnome barreled over the ground and threw herself at her friend, heedless of the harm that might come when a Right-Sized gnome collides with something of the stature of even an imaginary giant.  "Lunk, you're alright.  What?  Me?  Well, I almost died.  Except I didn't.  See?  Lysa Thoradin said I was going to have a scar.  See?  Right here."  And the gnome opened her jacket and showed her Giant Friend her collarbone.

"Me and Lysa and Kellan Storval and Cato Crispin mixed it up with some gobbies.  There was some fighting, and some talking.  But gobbies aren't much on talking.  'Yah yah yah chew and bite.  Blah blah blah we eat slugs.'  That's gobbies for you."  The gnome shrugged.  She reached up to take Her Giants big hand and began leading him down towards the center of town.

"What about you?  You didn't see any goblins, did you?"

---

---

"Almost died?!?"  Lunk was concerned.  "Are you sure you're going to be okay, Pisca?"  He asked with a worried look.  It looked like Pisca had taken a big cut.  Too big for such a small person.  Lunk had wondered before how Pisca kept everything she needed inside her given her small size.  He wondered now if any of it had burst out of her when she got cut.  "Do you still have, um, all your parts?"  Lunk hoped so; he liked Pisca the way she was.

Lunk nodded in response to Pisca's question.  "I did!  They were attacking the orphanage!  And I beat them off!"  Lunk puffed up with pride; it was the proudest moment he had ever had or probably ever would have.  "The children were all cheering and even Miss Krasny said I'd done good.  Miss Krasny!  She's never said that before."  Lunk smiled, remembering.

Then he had a worrying thought.  "The goblins had fire and I think they tried to burn down the orphanage.  Did they burn anything else?"  Lunk hoped not.  He liked Sandpoint the way it was.

---

---

"I'm fine, Lunk," the gnome said.  And to punctuate this fact she ran completely around him winding up where she started and throwing out her arms as though presenting herself.  "Lysa's a pretty good healer."

"But you!  You, Lunk!  You fought the goblins!  Yeah!  You won!  You saved the children!  Yeah, yeah!  Lunk, you're a hero!  Yes you are."  The gnome snapped her fingers with a bright click.  "And that gives me an idea.  Why don't you come to dinner too!  Ameiko Kaijitsu has invited me Alergast Barett and Kellan Storval and Cato Crispin and Liseth Thoradin to dinner.  She said it was because we were heroes.  Well, now that you're a hero too, you should be able to come along too.  Right?"

"Yes.  That's right," Pisca said, answering her own question, and cementing the answer by definitively smacking her fist down into her palm.  "Come on," she said, and reached up for his hand and took her giant in tow once again.

"I don't think anything was burned.  There were some who looked like they were going to try and burn down the new cathedral.  But we stopped them.  Me and Lysa and Stomper and Cato.  Of course, some people died.  That's sad.  But we saved a lot of people.  So, yeah!  Right?  That's right, isn't it?"  Despite her earlier enthusiasm, the gnome's face was set into lines of thoughtful consideration.

---

---

"I don't know, Pisca.  Miss Ameiko invited you, not me."  Lunk's face was set in a worried frown.  People normally didn't like him to show up unannounced.  Especially at places like the Rusty Dragon, where they were having a good time.  "People don't like me around at dinners or other nice things."  Lunk looked miserable.  "They say I don't smell very good."

He let Pisca lead him through the town but he was very worried.  He didn't want to make Pisca upset but he really didn't want to go to the Rusty Dragon either.  He was afraid people might say mean things.  He was used to that now, mostly, but he didn't want Pisca to have to hear them.

Still, the gnome was a force of nature.  Lunk followed her down to the Rusty Dragon despite his reservations.

---

---

The gnome sniffed with her sensitive nose.  "Yeah.  Alright.  No, you don't smell as nice as many people would like, Lunk.  I wouldn't lie to you, and that is true.  But you work with junk all day!  Of course you smell like junk.  But that doesn't make you any less a hero."

"And I tell you, Lunk, I've smelled worse.  You think you work with stinky stuff.  You should smell a tanner.  Here's advice from the gnome, Lunk.  Take a bath before you to nice places, and you'll be fine.  Alright?  But that's not going to help us today."

"Hmmm.  What to do?"  Pisca had stopped her progression to town and instead began pacing in a circle around Lunk with her arms folded across her chest.  "I know."  Swinging out of her circle, she took Lunk's hand again and continued on.  "We'll sit outside.  You and me.  It's not a bad evening.  Maybe we'll have to sit on the back steps.  Or, maybe they'll put out tables outside for us when I tell them how you saved the orphanage today.  That'll be fine.  Either way.  We'll watch the ocean, and see the moon come up and the stars come out."

Pisca grinned her broad gnomish grin up at Lunk.  "Couldn't be better," she said.

FADE TO BLACK - Continued in Chapter #2a:  The Rusty Dragon