Cato accepted the wand from Pisca, putting it into his own belt.  When he had time during the trip, he took out the wand and studied it, using Detect Magic to uncover the secrets of the wand.


Spellcraft check, please?

It was too early in the morning when Liseth awoke.  She had actually slept very well; much better than she thought she would have.  Yesterday afternoon she had imagined her thoughts and dreams being rife with nightmares; images of zombies and demons and skeleton mutants keeping her up.  Of evil goblins hounding her in her dreams.  The nervous anticipation of their upcoming mission to Thistletop keeping sleep at bay.

But sleep had come easily and her dreams were nothing but pleasant.  Kerr was almost all that her mind imagined.  His smile, his cute puppy dog eyes, them sitting together on the beach.  Him shirtless, with her hands running all over his back...

Even in bed, still wrapped in covers while she slowly roused herself from sleep, Liseth's heart began to pound.  Had that really happened?  The girl could still remember the feeling of Kerr's muscles as she massaged the ache out of them.  Of his skin as her hands went all over his back and neck...

There was something else that she recalled from her dreams as well.  Something to distract her from her current thoughts of Kerr.  Just before awakening she remembered seeing Sarenrae again, in her dreams.  Once more feeling the immeasurable love and understanding pour out from the goddess.  Liseth felt happy, content, and warm.

Opening her eyes, the first thing that she thought was that there was too much light in the acolyte's quarters that she shared with the other girls.  Searching for the source, her eyes determined that the glow had to be coming from her.  Curious, Liseth removed her covers and let out a gasp.  She was covered in glowing, golden-white flames!

The flames went out almost immediately after she noticed them, putting the room back into the proper level of darkness and leaving the acolyte confused and a bit worried.  She summoned a magical light to check herself over but found no marks on her body.  In fact, as she thought about it, it had felt really very nice when the flames were around her.  Maybe it was some kind of gift from Sarenrae?

While she pondered, Liseth got up out of her bed.  Carefully and as quietly as she could manage; she didn't want to disturb the other girls.  She looked down at her heavy quilted dress, right where she had left it yesterday, with a bit of a frown on her face.  It was still so dirty...she never had a chance to try and clean it.  But it was what she would have to wear if they were going to be heading straight into even more battles today.

After struggling into the messy dress, Liseth donned the special magical cloak that they had borrowed from the guards' armory.  Then she gathered all of her things together into her knapsack; she didn't have much and might as well take everything, in case it was needed.  Except for her emerald necklace; it would be better to keep that safe in the Cathedral.  And her robe, it wasn't a good outfit to travel in.

Before leaving the room, Liseth made the decision that she had to pen another letter to her father.  In case she didn't make it back from Thistletop.  Her stomach tied in knots as she wrote, starting with an apology for not being there to see her father in person.  Then asking him to not be angry, and explaining how Sarenrae had asked her to go.  How the goddess had spoken to her personally and told her that She loved her.  Liseth signed the letter with love, all the while hoping that her father never read it.

Liseth left the letter outside of Father Zantus' room, sure that he would know what to do with it.  She didn't want to wake the prelate, and wasn't even sure what she might say if she did.

Then she went to breakfast.  Liseth knew that the plan was to leave very early, hours before sunrise.  She understood the plan, even if she didn't like it.  She hadn't voiced her objection to anyone, but she was supposed to pray at sunrise.  That's what she had done for as long as she could remember, Liseth had never missed a day, ever.  She was sure that Sarenrae would understand, but it still felt wrong to her.  Could she pray while they were riding?

It was a quick breakfast, nothing like the dinner she had put on for Kerr last night.  There was no time to cook and clean up.  So she prepared a simple fare of bread, cheese, oats, and milk for herself and Kerr.  When Kerr arrived at the table Liseth gave him a radiant, happy smile.  "Good morning!  How are you feeling?"

Not too much later they heard the sound of horses outside the Cathedral, so Liseth knew that the others had arrived and that it was time to go.  She and Kerr stopped to pick up the befuddlers and their magic potions before going out to greet everyone.

"Hello!"  She greeted everyone as she made her way down the Cathedral steps with Kerr.  "Oh!  You brought Heily already!"  The girl made her way to the already saddled horse, easily picking her out even amidst the predawn darkness.  "I'm sorry that I haven't been spending enough time with you lately Heily.  But there has been so much happening,"  She said as she stroked the beautiful white mare's mane.

Liseth laughed as Pisca confronted Kerr with that new crossbow and tried to put it on his shoulder.  Although Liseth wasn't sure that Kerr would need a different weapon when he already had his bow.  Who else might use that strange crossbow though?  Cato could, certainly, but he had his magic.  Her?  Liseth had very mixed feelings about that.  She didn't want to shoot anything!

"So," She cleared her throat, "yesterday we were given six of Mr Tanner's Befuddlers to use,"  Liseth turned back to the others, aware that they had to leave soon.  "And Father Zantus gave us four magical potions that might help as well.  One to heal diseases, another to heal blindness, a third that cures paralyzation, and the last one helps fight poisons."  She presented the bag that contained all of the aforementioned items.

"I don't think I need more than two befuddlers.  And anyone can carry the magical potions.  How were we going to spread these out?"

---

---

Ameiko watched bemusedly as Pisca swung her mini magic sword about, so she was a little surprised by Kellan’s sudden hug.  But she returned his hug with some emotion.

“You keep them safe, Kellan,” she said in a low voice, suddenly all seriousness.  “You’re a guardsman.  You’ve trained for this.  There’s no one better than Alergast, and you’ve been his star pupil; he’s always going on about you.”  She took a deep breath.  “Look at them,” she let her gaze wander to the gnome and the scholar.  “This isn’t something they’ve trained for.  And poor Liseth?  Or sweet Kerr?”  She sighed.  “They have no idea.  Shalelu, as much as I love her, is all about the mission.  I don’t know if she cares who comes back, as long as you’re successful.”  The innkeeper drew back from Kellan, placing both hands on his shoulders.  “You need to bring them back safe, Guardsman Storval.  It’s your duty.”

Anything else Ameiko was going to say was interrupted by an exuberant gnomish hug.  The Tianese woman bent down to return it, eyes glistening.

Then it was time to go.

“Good luck,” Ameiko said as Shalelu gathered them all to leave.  “And good fortune!”

If anyone had turned around for a last look at the Rusty Dragon, they would have seen its proprietress silhouetted in the door, the blazing light of the inn behind her, watching them go.

They would not have seen the tears rolling down her cheeks.

---

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Shalelu led her three charges out of the Rusty Dragon onto the fog-draped streets of Sandpoint.  It wasn’t long before the Goblin Squash Stables rose out of the mist, illuminated eerily by the closest streetlamps.  As the group approached, they could see Dav Hosk in front of the stables.  He was accompanied by five horses and a pony, each saddled and ready to ride.  The ranger was apparently going over a final check of the saddles and bridles, but he looked up and stopped what he was doing as they approached, nodding respectfully at his elven counterpart.

Shalelu nodded back with an equal level of respect, as if she felt they were equals.  Perhaps the larger measure of her trust in Dav’s talents was the fact that she didn’t even check her horse’s tack before vaulting easily into the saddle.

“What do we know, Dav?”

---

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The horsemaster ran a hand through his hair.  He looked tired.  “Well, I found six goblins watching Sandpoint from three different vantage points; one pair near each bridge and another in the woods by the Lost Coast Road.  Just like the past two nights.”  He gave her a satisfied grin.  “Only tonight they’re all dead, and no one the wiser.  Their watch shouldn’t change until sunup, if they keep to their past schedule, but I'd say the quicker you all move out the better.”

“I think I got all of their forward watchposts.  There’s always a chance I missed a pair, but,” he spat on the ground, “the day goblins can best me in woodcraft is the day I hang up my boots.  Hopefully they’ll think that we’re just probing rather than trying to slip a raiding party past them.  And if they do figure that out, well,” he shrugged, “they won’t have any idea which way you went.  I don’t think that a deep strike into the heart of Thistletop will be the first thing that occurs to them.”

He looked out over the Turandarok as if he could actually see the goblin movements from his current vantage point.  “You should be clear until you hit that camp of Mosswoods a half-mile up the Lost Coast.  I’d be off the main road by then.  But once you make it by that camp it should be pretty smooth sailing, I would think, as long as you avoid the routes the goblins are taking.”  He smiled a bit shamefacedly.  “But then, look who I’m talking to.  You know what you’re doing.”

“Good luck,” said Dav, nodding curtly to Kellan while he finished checking the straps on Heily’s saddle.  “Wish I could be going with you.  But, well . . .,” he scratched the back of his head uncomfortably.  “Someone needs to let Deverin and Barett know what’s going on out there.”  He slapped Heily’s flank.  “Guess that’s me.”

He handed Nettie’s reins to Pisca.  “The goblin’s name is Thok,” the ranger responded to her query.  “I’m pretty sure he’s telling the truth about that.  Haven’t been able to get much of use out of him.  Seems like he’s a pretty big deal as far as the Thistletop military is concerned.  He might be their top commando.”  Dav shrugged.  “Or maybe he’s just inflating his own prowess.  Wouldn’t be the first time.  But that’s what he said.”

---

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Shalelu nudged her horse over to the ranger, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder.  “You’ve done an outstanding job, Dav,” she said, giving him a small smile, “I could not have done any better myself.”

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It was difficult to see in the dim light and the fog, but the horseman’s face seemed to grow a shade darker.  Was he blushing?

Dav ducked his head in acknowledgement.  “Good hunting, Shalelu,” he said in response, briefly putting his hand over hers.  “And good luck.”

He stood silently as the four riders left, heading north to the cathedral, then quietly turned and headed back inside the stables.

---

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"You know why a deep strike into the heart of Thistletop wouldn't be the first thing that occurs to the gobbies?" Pisca had asked on the short ride between the Goblin Squash stables and the cathedral.  "Because it's madness," she answered before anyone had the chance to reply.  "Isn't that wonderful, and clever and terrifying," the gnome had then added.  "We're camouflaging ourselves in madness."

Now that they were back together again, the five of them plus the famed ranger Shalelu Andosana, the words she had spoken came back to her.  Pisca turned her gaze to the spires of the Cathedral, hidden from sight above the level of the early morning mist.

"Well, some people say that the gods are mad.  Some claim that madness is divine inspiration.  If we're cloaking ourselves in madness," she said without explaining to either Liseth or Kerr who had not been there to hear the original comment, "then at least we're in good company."

Cato gladly accepted the reins from Dav, nodding his head in thanks.  He still a little uneasy about the man.  Something about his manner, about the obsessive way he seemed take pleasure in displaying the trophies of the downed goblins rubbed the young wizard the wrong way.  It took him a few moments, but he finally put a finger on it.  It reminded him of the Hellknights.  It seemed just like something that Lucius Winters would encourage in his troops.  Cato tried to keep his expression even.  But this was just goblins.  And the man certainly knew his job, and Shalelu certainly saw nothing wrong with it.  Then again, the elven woman seemed a little eager in her pursuit of goblins herself.  Was it possible to fight evil that devoutly for that wrong without a little rubbing off on you?

Cato looked to Liseth when she spoke, eager for distraction from his morbid line of thought.  "I'll take a befuddler.  I'm not sure if I'll have use for it, but it's always better to be prepared, right?"

"Oh, I'll take two Bumfudglators, Lys" the gnome volunteered, turning her thoughts from the Stunningly Tactical Cloak of Madness that they had just invented.  "And can I see the potions?  I think I'll take Potion Number 2 and Potion Number 3, Monty."  And without explaining the unfamiliar name, she went on to add, "Father Zantus didn't happen to have a potion that turned a gnome into a flying earth elemental, did he?  That would certainly be a handy thing to have."

Kellan pondered Piscas statement about madness as as Liseth doled out the precious supplies from the Cathedral. The town had really invested a lot in an expedition that would more than likely not be returning and he forced himself to banish thoughts of bloody handed goblins stripping their broken bodies of valuables.

Madness? Yes...perhaps. What would be the goblin equivalent had their positions been reversed? Perhaps the day time raid on the Glass Works? A slim chance at securing a strategic asset that would have allowed the Goblins to likely win the day with minimal casualties...should it had succeeded.

Did Thok have a family? Had he volunteered for that mission? Had they trusted in Tsuto to lead them safely behind the lines of the enemy much as they were now trusting Shalelu? What terror had been in their hearts when the had seen their comrades cut down and they had known that the mission would fail?

What gods had watched over them?

"It's not something I think they would...normally consider" Kellan agreed, his tone implying that he was making a severe understatement.

"While we are passing around the befuddlers...what do you all think of trying to take Tsuto back alive to stand trial?" He asked as he subconsciously touched the manacles hanging from his belt with his off hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:43, Wed 27 Aug 2014.

"Stand trial?" the gnome asked with some small surprise in her voice.  "That's not a very tempting offer, Stomper."

"Excuse me, Tsuto, how would you like to surrender to us so that you can stand trial back in Sandpoint," Pisca said, mimicking the voice of Mayor Deverin.  "Who would be the judge?  How could we guarantee his safety?  He already thinks everyone in Sandpoint hates him."

"Nope.  Not very tempting at all."

"Turning him would be a good thing.  Good for us.  Good for Ameiko.  Good for Tsuto himself for all that I've heard.  But if we want his help, we're going to have to offer more than the prospects of a trial."

"I say that we offer to act as intermediaries.  We'll offer to negotiate with Town Hall on his behalf while he hides somewhere nearby.  I don't know what we might be able to get him.  Even if the Mayor grants him a full pardon, I doubt that many folks in Sandpoint will ever forgive him.  And it doesn't sound as though many of them have ever liked him either.  But, at least he'd be able to visit his sister openly and freely."

"And, in exchange, Tsuto will have to agree to fight on our side.  To tell us all he knows about Thistletop and guide us through it."

"That's a much better deal all around, don't you think?" asked the gnome.  "For everyone."

"What?"  Liseth had to ask when Pisca spoke about cloaking themselves in madness, and the madness of the gods.  "That...but...no, the gods aren't mad.  Well, some of them might be, like Zon-Kuthon.  It's just that they can see things that mortals can't, and know all sorts of things that mortals don't."  She explained, "So we can't always know why they do the things that they do.  But there is always a reason."

"Oh, sure, here you go."  Liseth opened her bag and allowed Cato and Pisca to take the Befuddlers that they wanted to carry.  Then she reached into the bag herself and retrieved the potions that Pisca requested.  Liseth handed the gnome a vial filled with milky-white liquid, "This is the potion that should cure blindness," then she gave her another potion; this one filled with an orange liquid, "And this one cures paralyzation.  Be very careful with them, please."  She eyed Pisca curiously when the gnome asked about additional potions; then Liseth smiled and laughed, "No Pisca, I think that Father Zantus keeps all of his gnome-transforming potions under lock and key.  There's no telling what kind of trouble they might cause were they to get out and about!"

"We still have one more befuddler for someone," the acolyte said as she looked into the bag.  "Did you want to try and use one Kerr?"  She asked her boyfriend.  Then she turned to Kellan, "Or you Kellan?"  Finally she looked at their elven guide and goblin expert, "Maybe you would like one Ms Andosana?"

"Oh, of course!  We should try our best to bring Tsuto back with us!"  The conversation turned to the possibility of returning with Tsuto alive and Liseth was sure to voice her desires on the subject.  "I think that we should try to bring as many of them back with us to Sandpoint as we can.  The goblins' leaders I mean."  Liseth thought a moment, "I don't imagine that we could really capture someone as cruel and evil as  Brathoo...Barthaz...Bruthazi...that bugbear.  But the others?  The other humans?  We don't even know who they are or why they are helping the goblins."

She nodded to Pisca, "I know that if I can talk to him, I can help Tsuto.  With Sarenrae's help, I know I can.  He is really very sad, I think."  She shook her head, "To think that there is nobody who cares about him; that's how he was tricked into helping Nualia."  She frowned, "The people will be really angry with Tsuto though; they might want to blame him for everything.  If we can bring back another one or two of the leaders, maybe they would be more willing to be lenient on him; having more people to...be angry at."

"But that would be the perfect ending, don't you think?"  The blonde acolyte turned to look around at everyone, full of youthful innocence and optimism.  "Then Ms Kaijitsu would be happy again, if she had her brother back."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Wed 27 Aug 2014.

"Just about everybody in Sandpoint does hate him, or will...as soon as they find out what he's been up to"

Kellan replied to Pisca in a casual sort of way as he rubbed Hakons neck.

"And for good reason...from what it seems like he betrayed his home town and family and is at least partially responsible for all this death and misery." He patted the horses neck and resumed his full height in the saddle.

"I'm not saying I won't take the help if we can manage it...but I'm not saying I'll argue for a full pardon either...I just figured that it would be good to hear him out one way or another and to see him answer for what he's done"

Pisca pooched out her lips as she considered the words that Kellan had just said.  Now free of the Non-Shoulder-Mounting Magazine Loading weapon, she strolled about as though without aim, twisting and turning in a winding path, without purpose.  Or, perhaps, instead, pursuing a purpose that was very twisty and elusive.  A purpose.  A problem.  Or, maybe, a question.

The gnome wound up before her pony, where she paused to place a gentle kiss on Nettie's soft pony nose.  Then she said, "Humans seem very hasty to hate.  It's always seemed a better practice to understand something first.  At least it's always seemed better to me, that is.  One person's betrayal is another person's revenge.  One person's death and misery is another person's triumphant victory.  One person's need for friendship and love is another person's pathetic outcast."

"Things have different sides.  All things have at least two of them.  Then, after you've looked at all the sides - after you think you understand a thing - then, if you still hate it, at least you know that you really do.  Hate it, I mean.  There's no misunderstanding.  You're even likely to know just why it is that you hate it.  After all that work, I mean."

"And, it's funny.  You humans also seem so slow to love.  You approach it cautiously, as though trying to catch it from behind.  That sounds backwards to me.  Does that sound backwards to you?"

"A shame," she added, turning to Liseth.  "About the gnome-transforming potions.  One of those would have been extremely handy.  We should make sure to watch for an opportunity in which you can speak to Tsuto."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Thu 28 Aug 2014.

"That..."  Liseth blinked as Pisca went on talking about hatred and understanding.  "That actually sounds a lot like what Father Garrick has always told me.  You're very right Pisca."  The small acolyte nodded in agreement, "People hate too easily.  If everyone took the time to think about things...to look through another person's eyes, there would be a lot less hatred in the world."

"It is so much harder to hate something once you've taken the time to understand it."  She continued, "I don't think it's something that applies only to humans though."  The young girl thought a moment, "I suppose that it's easy to see it that way, since you're always saying that there are so many humans everywhere.  But just look at the goblins; I don't think that many of them even know why they hate us so much.  They just do because that's what they think they are supposed to do."

"That's why it's so important that we bring back Tsuto with us.  Sarenrae says that no mortal creature is wholly evil, anyone can be shown the path of redemption if they are helped to follow it.  I think that's why She wants me to go to Thistletop; so that I can help him realize that he has been misled.  That there are people who care about him; like his sister."

"But, um..."  Liseth blushed lightly and glanced towards Kerr, unseen in the darkness, "I don't know much about trying to catch love from behind.  I'm not sure what that means."

Liseth turned towards Heily and stroked the mare while looking up at the high saddle.  "Kerr...could you help me up onto Heily please?"

Cato listened to the debate about Tsuto's possible future.  "If Tsuto's willing to aid us, then I agree, we can talk about exchanges and help.  But doesn't your goddess also admit that some beings are beyond redemption, and seek to immerse themselves in slaughter and death?  I'm not saying that Tsuto is that, but it's something to keep in mind.  He, and for that matter, the other humans we might find in Thistletop might have too much invested to change their ways."

Cato looked to the blonde oracle.  "I understand that you want to see the best in everyone, but there might not be a best side to see.  Hopefully, some of the people we find in Thistletop are willing to change sides without a fight.  Maybe they're just being paid, or they were promised something with which we could compete.  But..."  Cato motioned with one arm in a circular pattern while still holding his reins with the other, "sometimes, people do just hate.  I'm sure Tsuto's going to have some very strong emotions about us.  I ruined his face with that acid attack, after all."  Cato shrugged.  "And maybe not.  Maybe he would have been punished for his failure and is looking for an excuse to switch sides.  But in that case, how are we to determine his true feelings?  If he's just looking for the easiest path, and goes on to cause more misery because we let him go, aren't we at fault for that, too?  I suppose that's something we could decide after the fact, but it might lessen the chance that Tsuto will cooperate with us."

Cato slumped down in his saddle, growing a little depressed at the task that faced them.  Finally, he spoke up again, in a quiet voice.  "I want to believe the best still resides in him, Liseth, I really do."  Because, the scholar didn't add aloud, if there's hope for Tsuto reconciling with Sandpoint, maybe there's hope for me.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:23, Thu 28 Aug 2014.

"Hmm," the gnome hmm'd.  "I think you might be mistaking evil for hatred here, Lysa," Pisca said.  "I'm not really sure that the gobbies hate us so much as it is that they're just naturally evil and that puts people like us and gobbies at natural odds.  They're just born with a liking for hurting and killing and and enjoyment of other peoples' misery.  We don't want to be hurt or killed so we kill them first.  That makes them wary of people like us.  If it weren't for this, I don't think they'd spend much time thinking about us at all."

"Now, horses and dogs, on the other hand, horses and dogs they hate."

"Hatred and evil are two different things.  People learn to hate.  It comes from circumstances.  Evil is just what you are."

"And I agree with Cato.  Some people are just beyond saving.  We gnomes have a saying, 'All goblins are evil.  But some goblins are more evil than others.'"

"I hope Tsuto isn't evil," said the gnome as she struck a thoughtful pose.  "That would be unfortunate."

---

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“And one person’s madness is another’s carefully-planned, high-risk/high-reward stratagem,” Shalelu said lightly to Pisca on the heels of her societal observations.  “The mad do things without reason, or for reasons that do not logically correspond to their actions.”  She paused.  “What we are doing is not mad, Pisca.  It’s risky.  There’s a difference.”

“The key is to minimize the risks when you can,” said the elf as she reached into her saddlebags, producing six tan, green, and black-colored garments, “as with these.”  She indicated a poncho-like cloak.  “I’ve made one for each of you.  Some I had on hand, while some,” she glanced at Pisca, “I had to work up at the last minute.  But they all should serve.”  She handed each person a cloak and a pair of matching boot-covers.  “You should all put these on.  The covers go over whatever footgear you are wearing.”  She grinned.  “They muffle the clamor you will no doubt make while trying to move through the forest.”

As the group began donning the gifted garments, Shalelu nodded thoughtfully along with their conversation about Sandpoint’s wayward half-elven son.  “Turning Tsuto would make things a lot less risky for us.  None of us has been inside Thistletop; he has, and often.  If there are traps or other hidden security measures, he’d know about them.  And he’s a trained, skilled fighter in his own right.”  She glanced over at Kellan.  “But you’ve had personal experience with that.  Having his skills on our side, rather than that of the goblins, could give us the edge we need to succeed in our mission.”

Shalelu sighed.  “But I fear that turning the younger Kaijitsu will be a difficult task.  I was in Sandpoint off-and-on during his childhood, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.  Essentially cast out of his father’s house.  He felt doubly shunned by the townsfolk on account of his mother’s infidelity and his mixed racial heritage.  And I can’t say that there weren’t those who gave him reason.  Although I’m not sure there were many in Sandpoint who cared, it only takes a couple of cruel children to make another think that the entire town hates them.”  She frowned.  “It was not a pleasant situation for that young man.”

“So I agree with Pisca; offering him a trial where he will be judged by Sandpoint, whether by its citizens or its officials, won’t be a very palatable offer.  Maybe her solution is best; maybe one of you can think of something better.  But you better figure out right now what you’re willing to give him in return for his cooperation, because you won’t have time for it at the moment of truth.”

She turned her gaze to Kellan.  “The question, then,” he recognized from the tone of her voice that she had assumed the role of instructor, “is whether your passion for justice outweighs whatever contributions Tsuto might make to our mission.  If its success hangs on his assistance, will your principles preclude you from offering him that pardon?”  She shrugged.  “Even if he is ‘evil,’ his sense of self-preservation might tempt him to switch sides if he thought it would benefit him.  I tend to think that the survival of the entire town trumps ‘justice’ for one misguided half-elf.  But it’s not my decision.”

She brought her horse around and began leading the group towards Northgate.  “One last thing to think about.  Everyone wants justice until they’re the ones making the mistake.  Then they want the grace they’d denied to others.  In circumstances like these, it might be wise to extend such grace to Tsuto.”

OOC:  Each of you get a camouflaged cloak and a pair of matching boot-covers that collectively give +4 to Stealth checks and allow you to treat Stealth as a class skill in which you have placed a point (meaning that those without Stealth as a class skill gain another +3 to their check).  Caveat:  these bonuses only apply in forest terrain when accompanied by a ranger who has chosen forest as a favored terrain (as Shalelu has). 

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This message was last edited by the player at 05:56, Fri 29 Aug 2014.

"Calculated high-risk/high-reward stratagem," echoed the gnome.  She nodded in agreement even as she mulled the words of the famous ranger.  "It's a good thing that we're better at the maths than the gobbies are."

Pisca put one corner of the camouflage cloak into her mouth, sucking at the cloth as though, possibly, gleaning moisture from the fabric and tasting of the stealth that the garment would impart.  "Thank you, Shalelu."  Once finished with her odd assessment, the gnome looked up at the elf, leaving behind a dark half-circle of dampness at the edge of her cloak.  "You're quite the craftsman.  These taste remarkably well made."

And then, "They say that Justice is a blind Archon waving around a sword of immense power, Stomper," Pisca said while donning the new concealing cloak and leggings.  "Don't know if anyone remembers who 'They' are anymore.  Probably one of those things lost to the mists of time.  But, anyway, following Justice blindly is the blind leading the blind, don't you see?"

"All in all, better to think for yourself first.  After that, you can decide what to do.  Sometimes following the Archon with the huge and deadly sword is the best thing for all.  Sometimes ... " and here the gnome shrugged, "Sometimes not so much."

Kellan took the bundle of camouflage material with a nod and dismounted before he stuffed it into his free saddle bag and cinched the leather flap down tight. As he moved he seemed to ponder the dilemma.

"Even if we can place the blame squarely on Nualias shoulders...Tsuto led the goblins into the Glassworks, the workers and his own father were murdered there...and I'm sure it was his hope that it would turn into a foothold for the invasion. You just want to let him go after all that?" He looked towards Pisca and Shalelu "Let him weasel out of his crimes in exchange for yet another betrayal?...many have a rough childhood...it's no excuse to aid in the slaughter or enslavement of an entire town" he added bitterly.

And yet there was wisdom there, and if it meant the difference between victory and defeat, he just may have to live with that, as angry as it made him. He licked his lips and gave out a strained sigh.

"We can try...and I'll honor any deals we make, but by Erastil if he so much as bows up I'll do my best to drag him before Mayor Deverin in shackles"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Fri 29 Aug 2014.

Cato accepted the cloak and boot covers from the elven woman.  He ran the fabric between his fingers, feeling the quality.   "These are amazing, Shalelu.  There's a lot of talk in Sandpoint about everything you're good at, but this gets left out.  He shakes his head.  "A pity, because it really is amazing.  When did you even have time to do this?"

"I didn't grow up here, but if it's want of impartial judgement that's going to drive this, I'm sure we can find it.  There's other towns than Sandpoint, after all.  Hemlock went to Magnimar to get reinforcements for the town guard, correct?  Could we send for a judge as well?  Or promise to take Tsuto there for judgement?"  Cato paused.  Did I just volunteer to go to Magnimar?  "Just an idea, anyway.  But it might sway his thinking, and solve the problem of prejudice against him."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:05, Sat 30 Aug 2014.

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Kerr stared up at the ceiling.  He knew he needed to get out of bed, but he really didn’t feel like it.  It didn’t just seem like the middle of the night; it was the middle of the night.  He felt like he needed more sleep.  And he was very, very relaxed right now, probably due to the expert massage he’d received only a few hours before.  His blanket snuggled him into a warm cocoon that he couldn’t imagine wanting to leave.  He just wanted to stay in bed and think about the feeling of Liseth’s hands on his body.

He immediately clamped down on those thoughts.  If he started thinking about that again he’d never get up.

The acolyte rolled to a sitting position and immediately regretted it.  His muscles were amazingly sore from wearing his new armor for a good portion of the previous day; he suspected that Liseth’s ministrations were the only reason he could still achieve a reasonable degree of movement in his shoulders.  He stood on the cold stone floor and tried to stretch out the soreness in a way Sabyl Sorn had once taught him.  It didn’t seem fair that they had to head to Thistletop the day after they’d had such a rough time in the catacombs beneath the Glassworks.

No rest for the weary, he supposed.

Kerr threw on a light tunic over some loose-fitting breeches and stumbled over to the kitchen to see about scrounging up some breakfast.  Liseth was there first, of course, bustling and smiling over the oats and bread she’d prepared like she was having the time of her life.  Kerr wondered if she realized how early it was.  He wondered if she was really a morning person.

Kerr was not a morning person.

Kerr stifled a yawn and tiredly returned Liseth’s smile, thanking her for getting up early and putting breakfast together.  “How am I feeling?  Like I’d rather do anything else other than slog through a forest towards a goblin fortress of dubious accessibility while wearing a heavy breastplate.”  He chuckled as he spooned some of the oatmeal into his mouth.  It was good and hot and sweet and buttery and warm; it made him feel better.  “But unfortunately I don’t have much of a choice.  Although I have to say,” observed Kerr the Noted Romantic Gentleman, “the fact that you’ll be along makes things about a thousand times better.”  He leaned over and gave her a kiss.  “How are you feeling?”

The two acolytes didn’t converse much more during their hurried breakfast, but they did luxuriate in the simple fact of each other’s presence.  They couldn’t stop looking at and smiling at each other, which somehow became something of a running joke, which caused them to start to laugh, which resulted in Kerr, embarrassingly, snorting oatmeal up his nose.  It didn’t seem like a very heroic start to an important mission, but Liseth apparently found it hilarious.

Kerr sighed.  Being a hero was tough work.

“I still need to go put on my armor,” said Kerr as they made quick work of the dishes.  “Why don’t you go outside and meet up with the others?  I’ll be along as quickly as I can.”  He gave her another quick kiss and headed back to his room, strapping on the dreaded breastplate with no small amount of resigned distaste.  He grabbed his pack, his quiver and beloved bow and hustled out to the courtyard and through the double doors, where he was just in time to have the enchanted repeating crossbow thrust upon him by Pisca after her abortive attempt to attach it to his shoulder.

“Huh.”  Said Kerr contemplatively as he studied the repeating crossbow, losing track of the conversation for a while as he did so.  Kerr had always been interested in ranged weapons, especially esoteric ranged weapons, and this one reminded him of something he’d read . . . . “Hey,” he said with inspiration, lifting the weapon up as if it were some sort of relic, “I think I know what this might be.  Have you all heard of the Four Winds Monastery?”  Seeing blank looks, he continued.  “Well, the monks of the Four Winds Monastery swear a vow to never intentionally take a human life.  Of course, that doesn’t stop them from martial training, it just means that they don’t train for anything that’s designed to kill.”

The young archer flipped the crossbow over, pointing at the underside.  “See this?”  He said, indicating a stylized compass engraved next to the trigger mechanism.  “It’s their symbol.  I’m betting if this is enchanted, like Savah said, that it’s enchanted to incapacitate rather than kill.”  He grinned at his beautiful girlfriend, offering her the compact weapon.  “And I think I know someone who fits that particular description nicely.”

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This message was last edited by the player at 07:31, Sat 30 Aug 2014.

"Hmm?  What?"  The little blocks drop from the sky.  They fall into perfect interlocking places for the gnome.  "That's it!  'Lysa!  The Shoulder Mounting Crossbow was meant for you!!!"

The enthusiastic (and now camouflaged) gnome rushed across the cobbles of the plaza before the Great Sandpoint Cathedral to take the magic weapon from Kerr Mollin and hurry it to its rightful owner for Shoulder Mounting.  Fortunately, Liseth isn't as tall as the other humans.

"Well, maybe there's an accessory that you have to buy to make it work," Pisca said when the crossbow still failed to grasp the idea of perching on a shoulder - let along the magic necessary to link up with its owner's mind for automatic aim and firing.  "No time for that now.  I wonder if the outfitters in Magnimar have a catalog?"

"Lets see if it works."  Taking the weapon back, the gnome adroitly tapped the magazine against the body of the crossbow, racking the bolts within.  Then she slapped the mag of bolts into the well at the top into which it was intended to fit.  "Here, Lys," she continued, handing the weapon back stock first to the admittedly awkward acolyte.  Then Pisca stepped a few paces away and turned.

"Alright.  Now shoot me."

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" she added, as though, for the first time, realizing that this might be a possibility.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:08, Sun 31 Aug 2014.

Kellan had remounted his horse and now watched with faint amusement as Pisca volunteered to be target practice. Some how he doubts that the acolyte would be willing to loose a bolt at her friend for curiosities sake.

"Well, that would be useful in it's own way I suppose...might have to send for you the next time the Fatman gets violent" he joked, although he disliked the thought of Liseth having to deal with that crowd.

He looked over to Cato with a nod "Trying him in another area would be fine by me...or bringing in a Judge, maybe from the temple of Abadar. I just feel like I would be letting a lot of good people down if I watched him walk free."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:40, Wed 03 Sept 2014.