(Arc 5-1) We got promoted? That means...SIDEQUESTS!

[Anastasia]

> A week has passed. The threat of undeath has seemed to lift from the city. So the party barring a tardy Lyselle gathers to meet the Commander, well rested and seeing the early morning hours once more. The blonde commander nods briefly to each as they enter, a few papers spread in front of him.
<Shamal> "Good morning, sir," Shamal gives her customary almost imperceptibly sloppy salute and takes her seat in readiness for the morning briefing.
> "Good to see you all up at a reasonable hour," he grunts, red faced as he checks another paper. "In a good way - not a bit of unnatural activity since the masoleum of Helm was cleaned out. Now then, let's see..." He begins, going over some papers. "A few things."
<Shamal> "Perhaps we can hope that abomination was behind things after all," Shamal nods in quiet relief.
> "First of all, now that things are quiet you can rest a few days." Beginning with that, "Well done, cadets. The head priest of Helm's temple and a Watchman spoke highly of you yesterday, and others are impressed with your gallantry."
* Berlioz nods lazily, hiding a smile. "It was just our job, truth be told. It's not really all that impressive."
> "Most would have buckled and ran," Commander Oberuth chides, "Even war veterans." He ponders a moment, "The Temple of Helm has something they wish to bestow on you, go there."
<Shamal> "Again?" Shamal looks a bit surprised. "They already rewarded us most graciously last time..."
> "It's something of an award," Commander Oberuth actually smiles somewhat slowly. "It's in conjunction with us, but as a favor to them they're presenting."
* Berlioz nods. "Well. I guess that, with the blessings from our superiors, it'd be in good grace to accept this", he says raising an eyebrow somewhat awkwardly.
* Shamal stands up, "Are we to go there now, sir?" she asks, pondering the possibilities of this award.
> "Now then," A nod as he goes to the next paper, "Also, Miss Stronger wants to see you soon. This is more informal - hold a moment, Shamal, I'm not done yet," Commander Oberuth blusters a bit, gesturing down.
* Shamal blushes and sits down. "Sorry sir," she mumbles.
> "Now then, before I was interrupted," The Commander goes back to the paper, "Miss Stronger, ah, requested that you come by her shop. It's nearly completed and she wishes to see the lot of you."
> Seeing the silence that follows, "That's purely informal, but she was rather energetic about her request. Now, get going."
<Seira> "Yes, Sir!" Seira says, standing up and saluting.
<Shamal> "Yes, sir," Shamal echoes with almost as much enthusiasm as she mimics the half-elf.
* Berlioz bows politely, repeating the "Yes, sir" with notably less chipperness than his companions.
> ---
> The Temple of Helm is open but guarded. Two men stand at the doors, one at each side. They salute as the party approaches, stern but respectful. Inside, you can see the long hall and altar, several people far back.
* Seira returns the salute, proceeding inside.
* Shamal does likewise, marching inside with Rin alongside her - she deserves this award for killing ghouls as much as any other member of the team!
* Berlioz bows subtly, keeping his head a bit low. While receiving an award is an ego stroke as good as any, the atmosphere slightly unsettles the bard.
* Lyselle raises her eyebrows a little at the goings on of the temple. Well, it was certainly flattering, but perhaps a little odd...or not. Was killing it such an incredible thing?
> Inside, you find the altar plain but rigid. On each side, deep and hidden from the door, several men at arms stand at attention. They hold spears, pointed up towards the roof. Back beyond, you see the Watchman, and in front of him, a burly, sturdy man. He wears full body chain mail and has a heavy mace hang at his belt, a bristling mustache and brown beard.  A little besides him Khardon waits, smirking just al ittle bit.
* Shamal smiles, resisting the urge to wave as she slowly makes her way to the altar with her friends, hoping this won't call for any speeches.
> "Well then, come on," Khardon raises his voice as the party enters. "Don't leave us standing here all day as you preen your feathers."
* Berlioz dimly continues his way to the altar, the steps covering the silence with nigh-rythmical precision.
* Lyselle heads along, wearing Shamal's crafted longsword now instead of her maces as she advances up to qthe altar with her friends.
<Shamal> "Forgive us for not having any speeches prepared, sir," Shamal banters back, before pausing expectantly once she reaches the altar.
> The burly man in chain mail bristles, his entire form seeming to ripple under the chainmail. "Welcome and well met! I applaud you, the words of your deeds have pleased my own ears."
> Smiling a bit, "It means that you're about to get something nice, so if you would?" Khardon smoothly interjects.
> The Watchman just nods once, grim faced.
> "Yes..." The burly man goes on, strongly. "We wish to bestow on you a mark of honor. You have exeplified what Helm teaches and shown us a point of our own failings. I find your diligence in your duties pleasing and worthy of our gratitude."
<Shamal> "Merely doing our jobs, sir," Shamal demurs humbly. "But to paraphrase what someone recently told me, you need but look upon the visage of He Whom Always Guards, and you will feel vigilance, law, and duty reigning in your heart." If that speech was good enough for Helm's messenger to give her, it should work for this crowd!
> "Well said!" The man roars his approval, echoing in the large hall. He reaches to the altar, a wooden box there. In he goes, taking out four medals. "The Eye of Helm, our award for the laity that exemplies Helm's teachings." He goes to each, handing it to them. It's a small medal of a helmet of silver, with tiny but clear eyes of blue stone(Sapphire? Aquamarine, perhaps?) looking on.
* Shamal bows graciously as she accepts her medal. Oh, well, she and Rin can share.
* Lyselle offers her own formalistic bow, smiling faintly as she accepts it, enough to be pleased, but not overtly excited at such a decoration.
* Berlioz bows dimly, lowering his head as the medal is delivered upon his neck.
> As the priest settles back, Khardon steps forward. His hands are behind his back, as, "Well then. Since it's only fair to let those that hosted this go first...Hmmm." He pauses, just smiling. "I don't know. Cadet Armasea has a ring to it I still enjoy."
* Lyselle gives Khardon a faint but distinctly and overplayed expression of displeasure, the sort one might expect from a noble addressed as a commoner.
> "Ah well. I suppose I'll adapt." Looking to each of them as he clears his throat, "Now then. Officially, we are all grateful fo ryour efforts. Your bravery is considerable and your valor will be remembered. Our young nation extends it's deepest thanks to each of you." Now his hands at last come out, four small wooden boxes in them.
* Shamal accepts her box and carefully opens it to see what she won!
* Lyselle takes the box offered, and like Shamal, opens it for their no doubt glorious prizes.
* Berlioz opens his own box cerimoniously, slightly glancing at it and peeking at its contents.
> Inside each is a simple metal bar. Iron and of no decoration. Really, it doesn't look very valuable at all. But to someone who serves? When one is worn on a collar, it means one thing - you certainly aren't a cadet anymore.
* Seira salutes Khardon upon receiving her box, standing at attention.
> Seeing the salutes, "Well done, lietenants. Now then..." Khardon stretches back, "Don't do anything to disgrace your commisions and uphold the diginity that our nation has put into you."
* Shamal for once in her life snaps off a crisp and proper salute, standing rigidly at attention. "Thank you sir. We won't disappoint you."
* Lyselle adds a salue, smiling plainly. "Thank you, sir."
* Berlioz smiles faintly, and his eyes brighten a bit as he salutes. "Thank you very much, sir."
> "Good. You can get going now," he chuckles, waving his hands.
* Shamal briefly nudges Rin into making a 'paw' gesture, the best she can manage for a salute, before the pair turn to depart at their dismissal.
* Berlioz salutes again with a bow, and takes a step back to begin his return.
* Lyselle follows Shamal's lead, turning sharply to leave the temple in time with her compatriots.
> So the party leaves. The bakery atop a hill is a bakery no more. Only the warm sea breeze can be smelled as you walk up, instead a shop dyed as red as the sunset sitting there. A shop of one story and broad, doors suitable to a festhall and painted gold. Most of the work is done, just a few workers doing some touch up painting on the sides as you climb up.
<Shamal> "Do you have any idea what the Countess would want with us, Seira?" Shamal asks the apprentice of said woman.
<Seira> "When I saw her last, she mentioned that if she ever had something she needed help with, we would be the ones she would approach," Seira responds after a moment's consideration. "However, it could be as simple as granting us the privelege of being among the first to see her new shop."
<Shamal> "What does the shop sell anyway?" Shamal asks, looking at the signage and windows as they approach for any clues.
* Seira shrugs lightly. "It is not officially open yet, so...."
> There's no sign of a sign. Nothing there yet, but there are two small windows - curtained up at the moment.
* Seira approaches the door and knocks twice.
* Berlioz snickers. "It could be anything, considering the Countess. I'd expect her to surprise us by now."
* Lyselle just shrugs, following along. She's never met this sister of the nobility, only heard stories.
> The door opens wide! Standing there is the Countess, clad in a red travel dress and cape, tall leather boots up to her knees. "Oh there you are, wel..." She does stop abruptly as she sees Seira, smiling, Shamal, a nod, Lyselle, another nod, Berli-stop. Blink-stop.
<Seira> "All four of us received notice that you wished to see us, Countess," Seira says by way of greeting, bowing.
* Berlioz awkwardly nudges his collar, and bows. "We are here per your request", he completes, fixing his monocles uncomfortably as the bard retains his original position. He had somewhat -forgotten- the initial string of events that led him to the Countess...
> "...you little snake in the grass..." she mutters, eyes lighting up. "Were you two in on this from the beginning?" She sends an accusing look to Seira.
* Shamal contrives to fade into the background at this point, Rin also flattening herself low down out of sight behind the party as her animal instincts kick in.
<Seira> "That would require me liking him, Countess," Seira responds honestly, wearing a frown.
<Berlioz> "Likewise. These are completely separate events", the bard coughs while glancing a few knives at Seira.
* Seira utterly ignores the bard.
> Countess Stronger twitches as if having a seizure, eyes going wide and lips moving up and down. "I'm not sure if I should disbelieve you, and even if so, if to be irritated or praise your resourcefulness. I didn't even put the events together far enough."
<Seira> "How may we be of service, Ma'am?" Seira asks the woman instead.
> The woman twitches another time, then sighs deeply. "Alright, just come in." With that she turns around, "Don't worry, the door cantrip's in place."
* Seira comes in!
* Berlioz steps inside the house, grumbling.
* Shamal follows now that the invitation has been given, hoping no objection will be given to Rin's presence.
* Lyselle follows, smiling pleasantly despite hte situation. She knew nothing!
> The entire place has a thick carpet. It feels good under your feet, and as you pass onto it, the door closes behind you. Inside is a well lit place, a serious of glass display cases in the front, with a long, long row of shelves and scrollholders in back, as well as a long glass case full of potions in clear flasks, every color of the rainbow.
<Shamal> "Nice shop," Shamal murmurs appreciatively. If the prices are good she might be coming here after her first payday as a lieutenant!
* Berlioz glances at the rich display of flasks, scrolls and trinkets. "Impressive stand..."
<Seira> "It looks very cosy," Seira agrees.
> "Now then...hey, you..you...peasant!" Stronger glares at Berlioz, "I resent that. This is NOT a stand. This is a grand shop of magic that only one in a thousand souls can appreciate!"
* Berlioz sighs and lowers his head sheepishly. "Yes, Countess, I understand."
> Glaring daggers at Berlioz even after that, "Go ahead and look if you want, but listen too." Clearing her throat, "Namely, first of all, weren't you interested as well?" A question right to SHamal.
<Shamal> "Oh!" Shamal looks a bit caught off guard by the sudden question. "Well, I, ah, briefly considered... but, er, I tried the whole apprentice thing once before," she waves a hand dismissively, pursing her lips and shaking her head slowly, "Didn't work out well for anyone, really."
> "You sure," Stronger smiles winsomely, "I could use another gofer-apprentance! Ah well. Anyway, to the point.  First of all, I have a request for all of you."
<Seira> "A request?"
> "Yes, I'm looking to increase stock before I open. Got anything magical you'd be interested in selling?"
* Seira gives Berlioz a considering glance.
* Berlioz scratches his head and squints his eyes acidically at Seira. "... well..."
<Shamal> "I only have a few spell scrolls, and they're for personal use," Shamal shakes her head apologetically, rising above the infighting.
<Lyselle> "I've got this sword, but I don't think I'd forgive myself selling it, much less Shamal who managed to manipulate it into working..." Lyselle shrugged, giving a slight bow. "Apologies."
<Berlioz> "I have a few spellscrolls hanging, myself, although I'm not sure of how much use they would be to the shop."
> Countess Stronger idly glares at Berlioz, before smiling to Shamal. "Oh well, that's too bad-hm? You have a real magical sword? Manipulated it into working?"
<Seira> "Only this amulet," Seira says at last, presenting it to the Countess. "It can rescue someone on the verge of death, though I do not believe it is very useful outside of battle."
<Shamal> "The sword is not for sale," the blonde witch nods authoritatively, smiling at Lyselle.
> "Oh, that's a pity. Any sort of real magical item interests me. Could I at least see the pendant and sword...oh, and I suppose I can look at the scrolls, too, if you want."
* Lyselle glances at Shamal before even moving to draw the blade, waiting for an assent to such. She doesn't know etiquette between mages, only between nobility.
<Shamal> "There's no harm in looking," Shamal nods agreeably. "The scrolls I carry are merely simple utility spells of the first circle that I don't always prepare."
* Lyselle nods, drawing the weapon underhand, and carefully holding the blade in her gloves to offer to the Countess.
> "Also, why you do..hmmm. Interested in a job on the side," she says, going and taking the pendant and then the sword, one in each hand. They're put on a nearby case, a few words murmured by her.
> roll 1d20+15
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+15 and gets 21." [1d20=6]
> roll 1d20+15
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+15 and gets 18." [1d20=3]
* Berlioz folds his arms. "Mine aren't any different from Shamal's in that regard..."
<Seira> "Our official duties are done with at the moment, so a job would be appreciated," Seira responds.
> "Amulet's nice, but I'd have to identify it, and the sword..." A Deep frown, very deep. "What in the WORLD is with it? I can barely make heads or tails of it."
<Shamal> "It took on a strange enchantment after Lyselle killed the lesser abomination with it," Shamal explains proudly.
<Shamal> "Nasty necromantic thing, so I applied a few more pleasing spells - healing and restorative to cancel out the necromancy, mostly, as well as some to inflict cold damage, which I felt would mesh well. It's rather amazing, really, since it actually now heals the wielder with every strike - the freezing effect is almost by the wayside compared to that."
> "What a miraclous sword, I've never heard of anything like that. What was it, some manner of free magic?" Countess Stronger hefts the blade up, white and cold air fogging up around it.
* Shamal nods. "It seemed to absorb a lot of malleable magic upon killing the undead creature. Selective application of spells after that seemed to redirect its enchantment - certainly not the usual method of crafting, I'll admit, but I don't think I could create such a powerful artifact by conventional means."
> "How fortunate...oooh. Are you sure you won't consider selling it?" Stronger asks, then to the amulet as she goes and picks that back up, "I'd give you 2000 gold for the amulet if you like."
* Seira merely nods. "It is a very acceptable exchange, Countess."
<Shamal> "It's far too useful a weapon in our line of work to sell I'm afraid," Shamal smiles gently, shaking her head.
> "Done!"  Handing the sword back to Lyselle, the amulet vanishes as Countess Stronger goes to behind the biggest case. She comes out with four gold bars, "A good reason for nice round numbers. Pure, high quality gold. 500 gold coins in value each, should be easy to convert to...ooof, money in town." Wiping her forehead after, "Mmm. Now then, a business venture for all of you."
* Lyselle nods, taking her blade back and smiling lightly. "Far too useful," she agrees, her smile strengthening a bit as she sheaths it.
> Once the gold is put down to be taken, "There's a creature I need something from - namely, it's preserved heart. Naturally sicne I'm having to ask someone to get it, it's in the Barbarian Lands only."
<Seira> "What manner of creature is this?"
> "A great bear, a dire bear." A pause, "They live a good ways north and towards the east, near the marshes by the coastline. They're not terribly common, either, so you'll likely run into all sorts of distractions on the way."
<Seira> "How fresh does the heart need to be?" Seira asks next. "Or, barring that, can you provide us with a reliable way to preserve it, Ma'am?"
<Shamal> "What do you need it's heart for?" Shamal asks, frowning. Killing a great creature of the forest is not something she's eager to perform without just cause.
> "Salting it will do. I'll even provide a barrel of it if you like." Stretching back, "A dire bear's known to be a great, berserk predator. It takes what it wants with raw power that can't be challenged, and it's a symbolic component in creating a Belt of Strength."
* Shamal is satisfied with that, her expression softening. Just as the hunter kills to put meat on his table and clothes on his back, so too can she justify killing an animal for magical components. "They are misunderstood creatures," she allows thoughtfully. "But taking one down would be no easy task."
> "Indeed, I've done the homework." Going back to where she got the gold, she gets out a scroll. "If you're curious."
* Shamal wanders over to take a look at the scroll.
> It's basic information on Dire Bears. Shamal reads...:
> Dire Bears are one of the most fearsome natural predators. Weight over 4 tons and being able to move fast enough to scare, they take what they want and live well. They're known to fight with trolls and strong giant wolves, but generally aren't hunted or have any natural enemies. Very savage.
<Seira> "Is their heart the only component of value?" Seira asks.
> "Fur's probably worth something," Stronger notes, "But that is it as far as I know, and I don't carea bout the fur."
* Seira nods.
<Shamal> "Ah, yes," Shamal nods. "I am, of course, familiar with them. It doesn't say that they can be very protective of those they trust, however. Many legends speak of powerful druids who keep them as companions..." she smiles and pets Rin, "Not that I'm looking to trade."
> "Yes, it'll defeat the effort if you decide to tame it," STronger agrees, "Well then, how do you say?"
* Seira glances at the others for any sign of agreement.
<Shamal> "Such an excursion would require some time away from our duties here," Shamal notes. "We should check with the commander, first."