Doozey’s shake of the head and promise of bringing only tools for now is a bit of a truth-stretching exercise, but it seems to dissuade the people of the plaza from doing anything more than staring. Many of them are bound to recognize CRAP on sight now, so that also has its effect.
Neya, Utar, and Raist then agree to a quick stop by the Helm shrine. It is just a hop away so CRAP soon finds itself right in front of the small doorless building. All are welcome in the shrine despite it being in the vicinity of the most guarded area of town. There is little inside apart from a small altar with an oversized gauntlet in display. There is no sitting arrangements, only the standing room for no more than six or eight people. Inside, the shrine attendant, a fully armored tall human man with his helm being held on one hand by his waist, welcomes you in. “How may Helm protect you today?”
"It is a bitter duty that brings us here today. We are recently returned to Phlan but I am saddened to report that on our travels we encountered the remains of a Helmite named Gavriel. They are outside, in our wagon, magically protected, until we were able to return him to your care. I am sorry for your loss."
Despite having encouraged the pit stop, Doozey remained by the wagon alongside Biscuit, if but to make sure no locals got too curious despite his claims. Yet his ears stayed ever open, and even from afar -- despite all the other ambient noises in the area -- he caught enough to bow his head in solemn solidarity. Seeing this, Biscuit tilted his head to the side in confusion, but then bounded over and placed a comforting paw on Doozey's shoulders. "... This used to be easier, Brother. And dare I say, I... almost long for those days when it was." He whispering. "Brye ro... Brye ro..." Biscuit said(?) and nodded along in agreement.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"How noble," the armored attendant exclaims. "Is he one of ours, a resident of Phlan?"
The question is answered a moment later once Utar and the shrine attendant agree on a way to bring the corpse into the shrine area. While outside, he nods solemnly to Doozey and others who may have also be waiting outside.
When back inside, he explains to Utar: "No, Gavriel does not have a face I recognize as one of mine. Know that Helm will protect him in the afterlife, and that I, as his instrument, will ensure that he receives the proper rites and is interred accordingly. I would be honored to do so right at our very own Valhingen Graveyard, here in town. That said, if you happen to know where Gavriel hails from, we could arrange to send him home instead."
Utar shakes his head. "I am afraid we do not know where he hails from, but I can find out. I'll return later today with news. Returning him home would be a deserving last kindness."
CRAP's short trek through the streets of Phlan is met with many curious eyes. The boldest among the populace shout questions at the wagon: "Any food in there?", "Did you take the Iron Route?", "How did you pass by the bandits?", "Spare some food?", "Did you get them? Did you save us again?"
Villonah is waiting just outside the residence, the front door open behind her. "Took you long enough. It is not very gentleman-like to leave a lady waiting." She winks at Doozey after that second sentence. She enters the building while CRAP is still bringing the wagon to a stop.
Inside, Sagin has prepared a veritable breakfast feast (a "breakfeast?") if not in variety, then in quantity: almond bread, oat bread, soft cheese, whey cheese, morning vegetable stew served cold, fresh cabbage clippings, boiled eggs, overnight-roasted parsnips, and duck pâté. It is clear to see that the little kobold is proud of his spread, but perhaps also a bit concerned that the smell may attract hungry folks from outside the home. He wouldn't want his food to be the cause of trouble.
Villonah has already started serving herself. "It's been a while since I slept in my own bed, ate food at my own table. Thanks for taking care of our place in my absence, and hiring this handy fella right here. I could have used the warning, though. I almost stuck a blade in his ribs when I arrived yesterday." Looking at Sagin, you now notice he has the kobold-equivalent of a black-eye and an apologetic-yet-frightened smile.
"Yes, that the best course of action at present."
Extended Signature
Doozey’s shake of the head and promise of bringing only tools for now is a bit of a truth-stretching exercise, but it seems to dissuade the people of the plaza from doing anything more than staring. Many of them are bound to recognize CRAP on sight now, so that also has its effect.
Neya, Utar, and Raist then agree to a quick stop by the Helm shrine. It is just a hop away so CRAP soon finds itself right in front of the small doorless building. All are welcome in the shrine despite it being in the vicinity of the most guarded area of town. There is little inside apart from a small altar with an oversized gauntlet in display. There is no sitting arrangements, only the standing room for no more than six or eight people. Inside, the shrine attendant, a fully armored tall human man with his helm being held on one hand by his waist, welcomes you in. “How may Helm protect you today?”
"It is a bitter duty that brings us here today. We are recently returned to Phlan but I am saddened to report that on our travels we encountered the remains of a Helmite named Gavriel. They are outside, in our wagon, magically protected, until we were able to return him to your care. I am sorry for your loss."
Despite having encouraged the pit stop, Doozey remained by the wagon alongside Biscuit, if but to make sure no locals got too curious despite his claims. Yet his ears stayed ever open, and even from afar -- despite all the other ambient noises in the area -- he caught enough to bow his head in solemn solidarity. Seeing this, Biscuit tilted his head to the side in confusion, but then bounded over and placed a comforting paw on Doozey's shoulders. "... This used to be easier, Brother. And dare I say, I... almost long for those days when it was." He whispering. "Brye ro... Brye ro..." Biscuit said(?) and nodded along in agreement.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"How noble," the armored attendant exclaims. "Is he one of ours, a resident of Phlan?"
The question is answered a moment later once Utar and the shrine attendant agree on a way to bring the corpse into the shrine area. While outside, he nods solemnly to Doozey and others who may have also be waiting outside.
When back inside, he explains to Utar: "No, Gavriel does not have a face I recognize as one of mine. Know that Helm will protect him in the afterlife, and that I, as his instrument, will ensure that he receives the proper rites and is interred accordingly. I would be honored to do so right at our very own Valhingen Graveyard, here in town. That said, if you happen to know where Gavriel hails from, we could arrange to send him home instead."
Utar shakes his head. "I am afraid we do not know where he hails from, but I can find out. I'll return later today with news. Returning him home would be a deserving last kindness."
"Very well," the attendant replies. "May both Helm and Torm protect you."
Utar leads CRAP out of the shrine area and toward the Leadstopper Residence.
(OOC: Any other stops before reaching HQ?)
CRAP's short trek through the streets of Phlan is met with many curious eyes. The boldest among the populace shout questions at the wagon: "Any food in there?", "Did you take the Iron Route?", "How did you pass by the bandits?", "Spare some food?", "Did you get them? Did you save us again?"
Villonah is waiting just outside the residence, the front door open behind her. "Took you long enough. It is not very gentleman-like to leave a lady waiting." She winks at Doozey after that second sentence. She enters the building while CRAP is still bringing the wagon to a stop.
Inside, Sagin has prepared a veritable breakfast feast (a "breakfeast?") if not in variety, then in quantity: almond bread, oat bread, soft cheese, whey cheese, morning vegetable stew served cold, fresh cabbage clippings, boiled eggs, overnight-roasted parsnips, and duck pâté. It is clear to see that the little kobold is proud of his spread, but perhaps also a bit concerned that the smell may attract hungry folks from outside the home. He wouldn't want his food to be the cause of trouble.
Villonah has already started serving herself. "It's been a while since I slept in my own bed, ate food at my own table. Thanks for taking care of our place in my absence, and hiring this handy fella right here. I could have used the warning, though. I almost stuck a blade in his ribs when I arrived yesterday." Looking at Sagin, you now notice he has the kobold-equivalent of a black-eye and an apologetic-yet-frightened smile.