The Outcasts

Patrick's Journal, Entry #1

Along comes this group of outsiders, wandering through town like so many before them. Things may be different this time though. I’ve started to bond with them individually. The gypsy, Calico. I’ve chatted with her in the past but she helped comfort me when I came across my ruined home. The dwarf, Balthus. Gruff and goblin-hungry. At first annoying, but I understand it now. Simplification. We smoked together and he covered for me during the night with Shayliss. And now he’s gone. The drow, Chaff. A blemish on the land, but is he? His soul seems true. I cannot help but enjoy his company. The tribesman, Cohl. Pride in doing what he has set out to do. Something that I’ve failed at in the past, but my bow has never felt so sure in my hands. The arrows pick their way to the hearts of my foes. Things are coming together. Why has it taken so long?

It may be time to consider leaving Sandpoint. I’ve grown up here, I’ve loved these people and helped them to build their lives around this town. But the deeper I look, the uglier things become. I’m losing my connection with the people here. I feel uneasy. What is going on here? The dark stories being uncovered here confuse me. I need to keep it simple if I can. One thing at a time.

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Calico's Journal #4
Bursting through the front door of mystery.

While enjoying our dinner of wild boar, at the Rusty Dragon, the door blew open and Sheriff Hemlock walked in. At the sight of the law, my first instinct was to slink off, but then I remembered I had done nothing wrong. The Sheriff came over and quietly asked if we would accompany him to the new temple. There was a matter of urgency that he wanted us to look into. Upon arriving at the churchyard, we were met by Father Zantus. He explained that while tidying up the cemetery he had discovered that the door of the crypt of the former head of the temple was standing open. He was afraid to go inside, but had sent the sheriff to ask us to investigate. We agreed, and upon entering, found two animated skeletons that came lurching out of the dark. We quickly dispatched the undead, and looked about the crypt.

It was empty. As was Father Tobin’s coffin. The only evidence we found was a pile of rags and footprints. Goblin footprints, as well as the boot prints of a human or the like. The tracks led to the wall around the town. Looks like the gobbos and whoever was with them came over the wall during the attack on the town. We gave the robes to Father Zantus and explained what we had found in the crypt, then returned to the Rusty Dragon. 

We hadn’t been back at the inn more than an hour when the door blew open, again. They really need to do something about those hinges. In walked an elderly Tien man, who began bellowing for his daughter. Turns out it was Ameiko’s father. They had a quick argument in Tien, then he tried to grab her. For his effort he earned a soup ladle upside the head. He stamped out, and the bar returned to normal. After a long night of drinking, we finally retired to our rooms. The only other thing of note that happened was that some local tart came in and talked Patrick into coming to her father’s shop to “hunt for rats”. He, Chaff and Balty left for a time, and returned with a story of how the hussy had tried to seduce Patrick, only to interrupted by her father. The entire common room had a good laugh at that.

The next morning I was rudely roused out of bed by Patrick and Balthezar. They insisted I come down to the common room. Over a coffee and a morning beer, they explained they had just met with one of the  Sheriff’s friend, an elven ranger of sorts. She had told them that there had been increased goblin activity recently. Or something. I couldn’t pay much attention, my head was hurting so bad. Anyway, it didn’t matter too much to me, as the was no breakfast to be had. Bethana claimed that Ameiko hadn’t come down from her room yet, so no one was cooking. I promptly made the halfling march upstairs and check on her. I could hear her timidly knocking on the door, so I went up after her and pushed through the door. The room was empty and the bed unslept in. I did a quick search and found a crumpled note. It was written in Tien, so I had to have Bethana translate it for me. It was from Ameiko’s half brother, Suto. He wrote that he suspected their father was behind the goblin attacks, and asked her to meet him at the Glassworks. Bethana explained that Suto wasn’t to be trusted and begged us to go to the Glassworks and investigate. 

When we arrived there, we did a quick reconnoiter. After hearing what sounded like goblins inside, I picked the lock and we entered. Past some sort of antechamber was a large room full of glass making equipment, and about half a dozen goblins. We swiftly engaged the little buggers, and made short work of them, except for two that ran away. We gave chase, but quickly it turned into a cluster-fuck. Running around in circles, we came across a stairway leading down below. Descending into a basement of sorts, we started checking doors. Behind one we found Ameiko, bound and gagged. After freeing her, and returning her top side, we once again ventured into the basement. The next door was open, so I flung it wide to let Cohl charge in. Charge right into an arrow, that is. Oops. The two goblins who had evaded us upstairs were here, as was Ameiko’s bastard brother, Suto. I rushed in to provide back up for Cohl, and doing so placed myself within the reach of the goblins. Not my most brilliant move. The ensuing fight was quick and brutal. I was hit more than once by those filthy little pests, enough so that I was forced to retreat into the hallway. On my last legs, I called for the boyos to take down Suto, but keep him alive. Much to my chagrin, Cohl was in such a frenzy, he must not of heard me. No sooner than I shouted my warning, the Shoanti savage cut Suto down with a mighty blow. The goblins were easy to take care of, with both Patrick and Balty turning them into little green pincushions. 

I am gravely hurt. We must return topside so I may seek healing at the temple. Perhaps Ameiko can clarify her earlier incoherent ramblings. What the hell is a quasit? Damn… Sometimes it is not so good to be the heroes. 

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Cohl

It is strange. I was meant to wander in disgrace after being beaten by Dadem, and wander I did but soon found friendship when I deserved the solitude of banishment. Maybe i needed it after i had done or failed to do. It seems my new friends all share a similar destiny, so here we are traveling on the same road.

We arrived at a festival. In a city. All surprises to me but I soon found myself comfortable when a goblin hoard attacked. I was transported to boyhood and my blade drank of their foul blood. Although I am with strangers and can’t share in the lore of the dead of my clan, I feel at home. It seems we were all thrust into the same rapids and all cling to the the same flotsam. We all relished the battle. This is important.

The strangest thing to me is how different this path is from the what I foresaw. I left my home in disgrace, and am now lauded and catered to everywhere I go. All for doing what was seen as a regular chore at home. I’m glad to have monsters to cleave. It feels like home. I may have found a new clan in my companions. I want more.

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Calico's journal #3
Bringing home the bacon

The morning after the goblin attack I arose early and found Patrick already up, in the common room. The others seemed to still be sleeping off last night’s excesses. The woodsman and I started talking about my camp, his home, and the surrounding areas. We decided to visit both, while doing some reconnoitering. On our way out of town we spied that greasy ginger from the Feedbag talking to another man. To my surprise I recognized the scarf the other man was wearing. Light green with wide black stripes. That could only be the Gallowed gang out of Magnimar! Some shady passed between the two, so I decided to inform the Family. They’ll be keeping their eyes open for any more suspicious activity. I’ll have to let Jubryhl know as well.

After introducing Patrick to the camp, we headed out to his cabin. When we got there, it was nothing but a smoking ruin! Goblins must have burned it while rampaging toward town. It’s sad. He seems devastated. I know I would be if something like that happened to the caravan. Thank Desna they didn’t get hit.

Upon returning to the Rusty Dragon we found that the rest of the lads from the fight last night were up and about. Patrick went immediately upstairs. I joined the table for some grub. Just then the dandy we saved from the goblins came downstairs. The idiot was overjoyed to see us. He sat down and offered to take us boar hunting as some sort of reward for saving his life. Really? Bore is the right word. We agreed to go along anyways. He said he buy us horses, so I guess that could be considered a reward. Besides, it might be a good chance to scout the countryside for more gobbos.

After breakfast, I took the lads from out of town shopping (where, in the name of Desna, do a dwarf, a Shoanti savage and some kind of half dark elf come from? Sounds like a bad joke my uncle would tell). First we went next door to the stables to collect our reward from the psychopath that runds the place. He pays gold for goblin ears, and he must have paid out a fortune already, as he had a whole wall covered in the things! Plus two whole gobbos, stuffed in glass jars to pickle. Like I said… psycho.

From there we hopped over to Savah’s, the armorer. She bought our gobbo weapons at a premium, and sold us some boar spears for the hunt later today. I think she was eying Cohl, the Shoanti. She’s about his size, so I guess it makes sense. I haven’t seen such a giantess such as her since the last time we traveled north, two years ago.

We returned to the inn for lunch, and found Patrick in the common area. Foxglove, the dandy, was also there. We ate then set out for the Tickwood on our new horses. After riding out there, we tethered the horses and proceeded into the forest on foot. Foxglove was of no use (Foxglove? These Chelish blue bloods have the most ridiculous names), so Balthazar took over tracking during the hunt. Soon enough he motioned us to stay still and be quite. Ahead has a gully, and a huge boar was at the bottom. I borrowed a crossbow and quickly climbed to the lowest boughs of the nearest tree. Let the big boys handle the berzerking piggy. Cohl, Chaff, and Foxglove set their spears below me, while Balzy crept down the gully. He fired that giant crossbow of his at the boar, and got its attention right quick. I’ve never seen a dwarf run so fast, on such stumpy legs. He dashed behind the line of spears, with the boar right on his heels. The dandy could barely hiold his spear, and seemed to be trying to tickle the beast with it. Luckily Cohl is a true warrior and spitted the pig on the first try. Triumphant over nature and beast, Foxglove and I decided to haul the boar back to town to get it cooking, while the others searched the woods for signs of goblins. On the way back, Foxglove seemed depressed. He had wanted to be an adventurer, but felt that after the boar incident, he just wasn’t cut out for it. I quickly stroked his ego, telling him I thought he was prime adventurer material. I offered to nominate him for membership in the adventurer’s guild I invented on the spot. Of course, he would have to pay application fees, membership dues, grease some palms, and such, which I happily offered to do on his behalf, as long as he had the cutter. I think I convinced him to fork over 250 gold crowns! What a chump!

Later that evening, when the boys returned from the forest empty handed, we all sat around the common room at the inn and ate the most delicious roast boar I’ve ever tasted. Again, more free drinks and plenty of flattering compliments came our way. It’s good to be the hero.

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Calico's Journal #2
Goblins at the festival!!

As promised, I took Luca and Eugeno to the market today, for the festival. Mischievieous little chavs they are, they eventually got themselves into trouble. Eugeno apparently dared Luca to steal something from some baro Shoanti in the square. Of course, they were caught. The Shoanti had a hooded friend looking out for him, and I saw him see Luca move in for the chore. I stepped in between, and clouted Luka, but bumped into the Shoanti in the process. Made me look like I was the thief, it did. It took some fast talking, and the promise of some free drinks, to make amends. Seems that the Shoanti and his friends aren’t such bad gadjes after all. I sent my cousins off to make trouble elsewhere, and sat and had a drink with the big guy and his friends. It turns out that Cohl, the Shoanti, isn’t the dimwit I took most of his kinsmen for. He and his friends, a drunken dwarf named Balthezar and a half elf (looks like drow to me) named Chaff, are all exiles of one sort or another. I can understand that feeling. All us Family are outsiders, each and every one.

Father Zanthus, the local priest, had just started his speech dedicating the new cathedral, when a scream rang out. More followed, and soon something small moved through the crowd. We looked down and saw a goblin killing a dog. Soon a strange chant was able to be heard above the screams. Seeing the goblin, the crowd scattered. Other goblins were chasing people around the cathedral square. Mayhem ensued. Looking up, we saw a goblin cavorting around on a food stall not far away. Not wasting a moment, my new aquaintences and I jumped to action. No sooner than we had made short work of that pint sized menace, than more appeared. First to the west, then to the south. One after another, the goblins were falling. A local Veshengo, who’s name I learned later was Patrick, showed up, out of nowhere, and helped by dropping gobbo after gobbo with his arrows. We collected the wounded from the square, then moved north towards the gates upon hearing what Balthezar said was goblin dogs. There we rescued some dandy named Alderomething Foxsomething (I didn’t pay attention to his name) from another horde of gobbos.

Once we had completed that task, we headed back to the new temple. The boys insisted on stopping at every fallen goblin and cutting off their ears. A gristly sport, but while doing so we did manage to find some decent loot. Not much cutter, but a few nice weapons and some potions. The robes at the temple were treating us like heroes, as did the crowd of locals that had gathered as we left the new cathedral. The Tien lady who runs one of inns even showed up and offered us a weeks lodging at her place. All us heroes headed back there, and a party ensued. Amiko, the Tien lady, and I even worked out a version of “The Usual”. At some point the local theatre director even offered me a starring role in a new play. I got more than a few “Usuals” off him.

I spent the night in my new room, after checking in on Mother and Father back at our vardos, since I didn’t think I’d be in any shape to walk home later. Tomorrow I will do some shopping and take advantage of the 20% discount everyone seems to be offering us now. It pays to be a hero, I guess.

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Calico's Journal #1
Sandpoint

My family and I have arrived in Sandpoint just in time for the Swallowtail Festival. This is one of my favorite stops on our travels, one we do every year. Such fun! All the booths, with their wares, the packed inns and taverns, all the people mingling about. It’s a shame we’re not allowed to lighten the locals of their wordly burdens. Well… Not too much, at least. The hulking Shoanti sheriff has made us set up camp outside of town, again, just across the eastern bridge. Its like he doesn’t trust us, for some reason.

I have a brand new set of clothes I’m going to wear this year. I bought them from another traveling family outside Korvosa, on our way here. Flashy, but not too flashy. Enough, I hope, to attract the attention of some sap willing to foot my drink tab at one of the inns.

Father says that this year, they’re dedicating a brand new temple to the gods during the festival. That means there will be even more celebration, and even more people celebrating. I think after my turn dancing for the locals at the camp, I’ll take Luca and Eugeno into town to look around the market.

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