Alvaryn has gone in search of a healer’s kit, studded leather armour, a shield and 4 javelins.

My bad, still learning.

Insight: 7

 Othokent is particularly wary as the duo travel along the streets of Thrusk; especially of any human or elven woman passed along the way. He never brings up a reason why of his own behest. But if questioned, he will only state, "Never know which one is a puppet", but fail to elaborate further unless prompted to. Other than that, he unerringly keeps an eye on Alvaryn whenever possible, and can be seen just outside the man's peripheral attempting to mimic his mannerism and interaction when engaged by Shopkeep. The same can be said when if Alvaryn investigates the boards on the way out.

"This one would know why is pointy-eared one in city?" He abruptly asks over the course of the trip. "This one has seen kind before. Not... happy in places like this. So why you come?" He asks, looking up at Alva. "Tribe kick you out 'cause you no good hunter?" 

Alvaryn chuckles at every mention of puppets from Othokent, very much enjoying browsing the shops with the lizardfolk and particularly enjoying others reactions to him.

As he asks Alvaryn of his past he lets out a big sigh...”It appears I am not like a lot of my kind scaled one. I endured many years of learning things their way, carefully, slowly and always out of books. Pah! Boring it was, I could no longer tolerate such twaddle and so I departed them and found my way here. It’s much more exciting here, amongst the bustle of people. And there are plenty of challenges to prove ones prowess, and have an exhilarating time to boot! You don’t enjoy these crowds Othokent fellow? Tell me why you are here, you mention teaching and the great egg bearer many a time and I’m sure it is quite an interesting tale!”

Othokent listens with great interest, and only through fortune and natural grace that he avoids colliding into anything. "No." He looks to the passing people and lets out a low hiss for a moment. "Too numerous. Too Blind. Too excitable. Like Herd prey, but not. Too self-centered. Too Sluggish. Not like home. Not like Shadescales or Threza's Tribe of Two.  Not sense what this one sensed below. But, this one must be here. This one must learn. Must seek. Must listen. To be Othokent -- what you call, namesake, this one thinks -- this one must be Othokent. Cannot become Othokent if stay in one place whole life, says Egg Bearer. Mmmother. As your kind would call her." He says as if unfamiliar with using some words. 

"So, this one is here. Test. Final trial before becoming Adult and take true place in tribe. Then, Threza let this one hunt Tribe Killers. Blacktusk." 

As he listens to Othokent talk of learning and becoming an adult as judged by his kins standards Alvaryn can’t help but let a sorrowful smile cross his face. Despite appearances Othokent reminded him so much of himself. He had once yearned to find that acceptance, to be judged an adult and to have attained the necessary wisdom and experience. Shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle to himself he thought but this Othokent was not so impatient as himself and he was sure he would stay the course where he had not.

Turning to the lizardfolk he says “They might look like cattle my good friend, and sometimes they certainly act like it, but they are not so blind as they appear. Survival means something different in a place like this, the dangers lurk in different places. This egg bearer of yours sounds most wise. It seems we both came to this place to learn something of the world my friend. Come let me show you something, I’m sure the egg bearer would believe this was important for you to experience!” Finishing with a wide grin Alvaryn leads Othokent to a particularily fancy bakery and purchases several of their best sweet pastries before handing some to the lizardfolk. “Patisserie my friend. There is nothing quite like it!”

Othokent had nodded along faintly at first, but gave no real indication one way or another of believe in Alvaryn's assessment. However, he immediately perked up at the comment of importance, and even took out another scrap of leather and charcoal in readiness for the lesson. Whatever it turned out to be, he would be thorough in cementing it in mind.

"Pay-shrees?" He sounds out as he went about sniffing, turning it high in the air a few times to examine from different angles, and even squeezes it a few times. "Sweet scent. Light weight. Squishy. Innnnterressssting." Othokent passes back the pastries long enough to jot down his findings before taking it back. "This will make decent bait for hunting furry big ears." He concludes as he puts the food away. "You have done very, very well, my... friend. Good work. You have opened this ones world for years to come even." He says, sounding sarcastic again as he tries to mimic Alvaryn's smile and shoulder patting gesture. Unfortunately, the former comes off as smug and the latter is on the hard side. 

Alvaryn suppresses a chuckle, shaking his head as Othokent stashes the pastries away he begins to feign upset at the Lizardfolks analysis of the treats "Oh dear, bait you say? But these are non-other than Reginald Barley's most wonderful pastries and their like is not found for leagues around, they cannot be used for mere bait! They must be enjoyed and savoured for the delicacies that they are! You truly do have a lot to learn good friend!" He finishes with a wink to his new friend before beginning to nibble at the iced bun he has for himself, a wide smile appearing on his face.

After thoroughly enjoying Reginald Barley's finest Alvaryn turns to Othokent once more. "Do you have what you need for now, good friend? Perhaps we could have a look at a few of the Marshall's other bounties while we await others answering the call. I'm sure you would quite enjoy a good bounty trail, you seem quite adept at the hunt scaled one!"

Othokent is quick to nod in the affirmative. But as talk turned to actually consuming the treat, he looks uniquely both perturbed yet interested in the concept. It is almost enough to convince the Lizardfolk dig out one of the pastries and try one. In taking so long to deliberate, Othokent wound up side-lining the thought at the next more interesting prospect.

He looks between his new little sack from earlier purchases and Alvaryn before giving a thumbs-up. "Yes. Need work on fingers later. Make good needles. Maybe poisonous too. This one also accepts these hunts. Though... we not eat these ones either, right? Only bring in to Marshal Chieftan for horde?"

I'm so sorry guys, my laptop charger broke. will post tomorrow

(No worries. I was waiting to see if the insight checks found anything, but...)

Torgar had no intention of taking notes nor taking anything the madame said seriously. He still wasn't convinced she wasn't involved. Upon entering the cellar, the loud pop puts him even more on edge as there's suddenly a robed figure where there was none. "And who might you be that would be able to help with why there are creatures of darkness with a dead snake inside their corpse."

As they begin to make their way back to the Marshallcy's office Alvaryn nods to Othokent. "Indeed friend, the Marshall's hunts usual require the bounty, or rather the prey, to be returned to him alive. It's up to the justice system to decide the fates of those we capture, plus that's not the interesting bit anyway. It's a win-win my good man, we get to have all the fun and they deal with all the paperwork, wonderful! There are bounties posted by others of more ambiguous morals from time to time and those usually don't require the unfortunate soul returned alive, however I have not yet chosen to consume any of the poor victims as of yet!" He finishes with a loud chuckle. Working with Othokent was going to be most intriguing indeed he thinks as he cheerfully strides along the streets, taking in peoples wary glances at the pair with great enjoyment.

Something finally clicks in Othokent's mind. Something that causes the Lizardfolk to freeze on the spot near the end and cast his sights skyward on the spot. A moment of silent passes before he resumed walking after Alvaryn at a hurried pace. "Marshall Chieftan is not Chieftan. He is... head warrior. Yes. More sense. And this justice system.... it is by Tribe council. Yesss. This make sense to this one. Still not sure why bother imprisoning if not to eat or mulch or trade for Tribe betterment. But this one will learn this soon." Othokent claps, his confusion fading as eagerness is kindled in his heart. "But you said some not need be alive for council, yes? The they can be eaten yes? Harvested to make this one and you better hunters? We should do those ones then. Otherwise, soft-skin pointy-eared one will die without proper nourishment of being and soul." He nods eagerly.

*I'm loving the dialogue too*

*I bought a mandolin yesterday, super stoked*

Group 1: Hawthum turns towards the dragonborn, hands lower and he adjusts his sleeves, "Bluntly, I know magic and about undead things. There was another report recently and this may be connected, but first let's see about?" and gestures towards the cellar. He slips past to Madame Fugue and examines the scene, the corpse, the wall, all while casting numerous spells. He turns back to the group, "This is ... interesting, to say the least. The chalk marks were a seal of some type, meant to keep Hepzethena's influence back, it decayed over time, but something much larger made the hole than this thing." With a flick, the corpse was turned to ash. Madame Fugue has quite the negative reaction, her annoyed yet confident demeanor changes to anxiety and the beginnings of panic, "The hag?! Maalomaer and the Thanes killed her years ago, or was that another of the Marshallcies lies?" Hawthum responds, "A lie told to keep people from panicing, so we could all try to go back to our lives. There was another of these killed in the sewers of the Crestfell Quarter, let's hope she hasn't crossed over the river yet, but this needs to be dealt with." He turns to the three of you, "Friends, How do you all feel about going back down there but with some back up and some coin on top? There is a bounty set on every denizen of the deep, as well as Hepzethena herself, and there are already three others interested in this undertaking. Being the saviors of Thrusk can open a lot of doors, trust me on that one." "Oh," He turns to Fugue, "May I borrow some coin Madame? You know I'm good for it." She tosses him the coin and he gives it to the group, a total of 75 gold pieces. "So how about it?" He asks the group.

Mikkeo frowns at Fugue's agitation, but addresses Hawthum. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the story of this ... Hepzethena. What else can you tell us?"

Mazir stood in the centre of the old cellar now watching the madam and the newly arrived Hawthum, this man knew of magic and the undead, perhaps she could learn a thing or two from him. 

Arcana: 10 

She can see him casting something but what exactly is it. Her thoughts now bubbling to the service of her conscious mind she began to think quickly. Does he know I hold the snake, does he know about the voice that drew me here. As she stared at the man more intently now her thoughts became speech, telepathically and quite accidentally she spoke now to Hawthum "how do these symbols ward anything, what exactly is 'The Hag'" 

"I made the hole larger so we could further investigate. What we found was something much larger than that pile of ash. A creature of death surrounded by another chalk marking and did not move. " Torgar would look between the madame and Hawthum. "But why was there chalk on this side of the wall?" Not yet ready to be paid to clean something up that might be caused by the people paying him. 

***sorry was waiting to see if aj got back to give us more!***

As they begin to approach the Marshallcy once more to look at the other bounties Alvaryn nods to Othokent “Yes, it is something like that friend. But this is a big old tribe here in Thrusk so it’s very complicated, and quite boring too! Some people dislike killing, and I rather suspect they would be quite startled at any mulching dear friend, and so they are forced to endure the worst of all tortures. Tedious inprisonment for various time periods. Quite enough to make one regret being caught indeed!” He shivers briefly at the thought of it, to Alvaryn a fate worse than death. Utter boredom. Shaking his head and letting his usual smile return he continues - “The others who post bounties, usually rich folk who have some sort of title, would probably like a good mulching or harvesting. Would set quite the example, at the expsense of the poor soul who crossed them! You would make for quite a popular employ with those nefarious sorts dear Othokent!” He finishes with a loud chuckle.

Mikkeo is looking forward to hearing more about Hepzethena.

Othokent shivers himself, though voices a different reason. "So wasteful. Distasteful. But this is price of varied tribesmen, this one thinks." He pauses, then starts to open his outh to say more. Whatever he intended to say is however quickly forgotten in the wake of Alvaryn's last words. "Nefarious... sorts? You mean criminals!" Othokent hisses at Alvaryn. Just as abruptly that he showed hostility, he calms in the next moment and looks to the posts. "You think twice, soft-skinned pointy-eared one. Then a third time for good measure. For you should know better by know to think that this one would work against Thrusk tribe. Even if this one not care for some of tribes wasteful ways, this one will not endanger own tribe working with that sort. Would sooner mate with Blacktusk."