A suspicious treasure map

Log Info

• Title: A suspicious treasure map
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Poc, Ezil, Cryosanthia
• Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
• Time: Friday, March 13, 2020, 6:27 PM
• Summary: Poc is still recovering from his adventuring injuries when he visits the Fernwood Pub. There he encounters Ezil and Cryosanthia. Ezil is down from his room for a meal, and Cryo is on shift. The paladin heals the goblin, while the sith-makar shows off her apprentice cheating gloves by cleaning Poc like he's never been cleaned before. Poc instantly wants to show this off to another goblin and rushes out, leaving Cryo and Ezil to hang out a little. During this, Cryo gives Ezil a treasure map to Merkabah, warning him that its source seemed sketchy and the task dangerous. Ezil finishes his meal while he decides what to do.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

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Following the adventuring into territories unknown and battling feisty ROBOT SCORPIONS, the green-skinned goblin known as Poc had returned beaten and bruised. Perhaps just as importantly he had returned with a lot of life lessons, but they appeared to be far from his mind as he nursed the injuries that he sustained. By and large his body looks alright, but some heavy purple sploches can be seen along his legs and torso from where he was repeatedly stung. Sitting at one of the tables (on a special small-person designed high-chair), the small figure dangles his legs as he takes a big sip of cool water. A cup of bone broth can be seen in front of him, though it doesn't look like it's been touched.

The pub is how it normally is, otherwise. A constant dull chatter echoes through the rooms, interrupted occasionally by raucous laughter or a glass shattering. It was business as usual!

Ezil comes down from the stairs, stepping into the pub with a sweeping glance. He takes the time to adjust his cloak, fastening it properly as the pin hadn't been set properly in his haste. "Evening, Poc." he calls to the small goblin from where he stands, crossing that way once he's finished sorting himself. "How are you doing?" pausing at the table, but frowning once he gives the man a long glance, only flicking his eyes away when someone laughs from across the room, drawing a raised brow. "You look troubled."

The Fernwood Pub's human server stops by Poc's table. She is wearing the semi-official uniform, which is a floofy blouse with bunched sleeves, a corset, and a knee length skirt, over which is an apron. She leans in, "Is something wrong with the soup? Would you like something else?"

"Poc not healing well." Poc replies to Ezil, yellow eyes from behind his mask looking at the paladin as he comes from down the stairs. Turning in his chair, a boney green finger points to the wounds on his gangly legs. "See? When in forest, Poc normally eat plants to help heal poison. But no plants like that in city. Poc still hurt from scorpions after adventure in ruins." Taking a sip of his bone broth, he shakes his head at the human waitress that comes over. "Broth good! Poc savouring it. Broth help Poc heal and make better." A small smile appears on his face, before looking back to Ezil. "How Ezil go? Feeling better after fight?"

Ezil nods, his glance taking in those welts, and then looking to the waitress. "Can I get a small-beer?" ordering first, but then speaking back at Poc. "I can tend your wounds, Poc. It wouldn't take long." he notes, pulling up a seat, and setting it next to the goblin. "If they're bothering you, it is no trouble to me."

"Okay, thanks, wave if you need anything." The waitress drifts off towards the bar where she picks up a small-beer and brings it back to Ezil.

Cryosanthia emerges from the back, tying her apron on. She's wearing something similar to the other server, although she has her armour on over top of it, and the apron finally. Perhaps her attire is a bit bulky for here, but it seems she rarely takes the armour off. She waves, "Hi Ezil, Hi Poc."

Despite the friendly nature of Ezil, Poc seems a little suspicious of exactly how Ezil could treat his wounds without trouble. The goblin squints, tilting his head a bit as he tries to think of how a feat could be possible. "Ezil heal Poc? How?" Pause. "...Please don't cut Poc's legs off. That not healing! that just taking away sore spots. Poc likes legs." Another sip of his broth is made, as he drinks more water.

"Dragonia!" He calls to Cryo, lifting a hand to wave at Cryosanthia as she approaches. "Working today? Why wear armour?"

Ezil can't help but laugh at Poc's reaction, raising a brow. "No, I don't remove legs. That's more the work of the Vardamans." an assuring tone taken, though as he settles, he flashes his empty hands. "I am blessed under Telmentar, and have magics. It would not take me long, Poc." still amused, but letting the small man know what he means. As Cryosanthia appears, he raises a hand to greet her. "White-One! How are you? Have a moment?" that work apron noticed, but he seems to think this matter important. Only then does he take some time to count out some coins, occupying himself with that for but a second.

Cryo looks over at the human server, who nods, so she nods at Ezil, "Yes, I've got a moment."

She moves over to Poc's table, waiting and watching what Ezil does. "It's hard to take off Poc. It also works better for me if I feel the weight constantly. It only really gets dirty if I'm in combat."

"Ooooooh." The idea that Ezil could use his magic to heal Poc had somehow gone completely unnoticed. "That sound good, Ezil. Do that. Heal Poc with magic please." To make it easier, the goblin stands upon his high-chair and then ascends to the dizzying heights of the table proper! Standing at his full height of an inch under three feet, he faces the paladin in his woodland gear, ready for the healing process to begin. "Poc ready, Ezil. Do heal. Do magic. Poc share broth to repay." Pause. "Poc have no money. Still waiting for money from guild after adventure."

Cryo's explanation earns a small nod. "It look nice at least? Why work better if feel weight all time?"

"I had thought he might take more convincing." Ezil sepaks of Poc, giving Cryosanthia an apologetic glance. "I will have to touch you for the best effect. I am no cleric, so how my blessings work is a bit different." Slowly putting a hand on the goblin's small shoulder, and focusing that divine energy into him. It's warm, the magic taking it's effect about as fast as the tsuran had made contact. "I guess... if you're on shift. I will be hungry after this. A meal perhaps?" having dragged Cryosanthia over without need. "I didn't mean to interrupt your work."

"Ah. I'm on shift, more or less. Sure, I'll get you something." Cryo answers Ezil. She crouches a little so she's on Poc's eye level, "I have to dodge a lot of things, and they often come very close. A few unexpected pounds might make me slower, and that would get me hit, so I try to keep everything on all the time so I'm used to the weight. I don't wear my rapier in here because it catches on the table when I turn around, but everything else needs to move like it's a part of me."

She rises and whips around, her tail curling into the space where she was standing like some sort of fish or moray eel in the air, then she's off to the back for the food order.

"That fine. Ezil touch Poc. Poc have nice skin." Which is... well, a lie. At least to most standards. Poc doesn't really shower that much, and he's covered in dirty clothes. His skin is similarly dirty, and where injured? Puffed out and swollen. As the healing begins to work, the small creature opens his eyes wide in a startled expression. Immediately the wounds seemingly vanish, and Poc is left standing there with eyes wide in wonder. "W... Wow! This amazing!" The goblin lifts his arms up and does a jig on the table, seemingly tested out the healed wounds. "Poc feel AMAZING! No wonder Ezil so strong! Just always so healthy after healing." Cryo's explanation is taken in, but... he doesn't immediately reply. He's just buzzed about feeling healthy once more.

Cryosanthia is back soon with a plate of food. It appears to be some flat bread, with meats, cheese and vegetables cooked on top of it. The bread is thick, and it looks greasy and delicious. She winks, "This will add some weight you'll need to worry about."

The white-scale sith-makar leans back a little more than most humanoids can. She's using her tail as balance on the ground, which lets her achieve a sharper angle. "Do you want to be clean as well Poc?"

Ezil shakes his head, but still smiles as Poc speaks. It doesn't seem that Ezil minds the condition or grime of the small man's skin in the least. "I don't know if it is why I am healthy, but I do know I have grown sturdier with time and effort." he notes, looking to Cryosanthia with an appreciative glance at the spread she brings. "That's a lot, but looks good!" letting go of the small goblin, and stepping back to take his seat. "Oh! And her cleaning doesn't use water! It's neat... different but nice." looking a bit tired as he used his divine gift, settling in to have at the meal.

"Hm?" Poc replies to Cryosanthia, turning to regard her with some confusion. "What mean? Poc very clean! No mud on feet." He lifts a foot to prove such a notion. There was dirt, sure. But no mud. That's... good, at least? "Ezil have some of Poc's broth. It fair swap." Jumping back down to the his high-chair, the goblin slides across the broth to the paladin, before looking back up to Cryosanthia. "What? How clean with no water?" That seems puzzling. "Use air somehow?" Frown. "...no cut legs off, right?"

The white-scale sith-makar grins, "Oh, this is something you need to feel, for sure."

She carefully positions herself, because her gloves have been known to 'clean up' meals before they're finished. She holds up her hands, which have the aforementioned white leather-scale gloves that blend in with her own scales, and makes a few arcane gestures. The gloves glow, brightest at a symbol on the back. She makes circular motions in the air, focusing on Poc.

The prestidigation cleaning magic is a strange sensation. A warmth, a mild friction, a sensation both like water and cloth moving over the body. Dirt is removed, from everywhere. Under fingernail, between toes, the flats and seams of clothing. Dandruff and grease likewise vanish from the hair. Even bugs, which is the feature the sith-makar most appreciates, vanish.

Cryo makes several passes and it would be unlikely Poc has ever felt as clean as he is now. She grins.

Ezil has broken off a piece of that bread, stacking it with meats and veggies before taking a bite. He watches, his glance darting between the two as he takes a moment to eat, and get some of his drink in him.

"Oooooh. Aaaaah." Once again underneath a dull glow, Poc feels warmth rush through his body like a tingle runs down the spine. When it's done, the goblin blinks as he looks at his limbs once more. The dull green shade he so keenly represented is now a bit brighter, with every morsel of dirt gone. "Waaauughh! Poc feel strange!" Living out in the forest, it's entirely likely that he has NEVER been this clean. At least in living memory.

Jumping off his chair, Poc flees. "Poc want to show goblins in Goblin Town how clean Poc is!" He had one particular goblin in mind he was going to show off to. "Thanks for clean. Thanks for heal. Poc talk later!" And just like that? He's gone.

Cryo laughs as Poc suddenly bolts out the door, then sighs, "To be honest, I kind of felt that way too after the first time. I love these things!"

"Oh," She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a folded piece of cloth. Dirty cloth, "I don't know if you want this, you might." Poc has disconnected.

Ezil raises a brow at the cloth, swallowing and wiping his lips with a thumb. "Hmm, why is that?" he asks. "I have a kerchief, unless I'm missing something." having been watching Poc and his exit with a shake of his head. "How does he have so much energy?"

"It's a map. A goblin, I think it was a goblin, gave it to me as a tip after my story the other night. Said I might like to explore Merkabah, get another story." Cryosanthia explains with a small shrug. "It looks like it's just a salvage thing. I'm not too interested and I'd feel bad if I sold it and something happened. I suppose giving it away isn't much better. I dunno, if you don't want it, maybe post it in the guild or something. He said there was artifice devices that could be sold to goblins or some gnome, who would give better deals."

Ezil nods slowly, taking it as it does seem to peak his interest. "Oh, that's interesting enough." he muses, the food forgotten then, shoving the piece he had in one hand into his mouth. "It's not giving it away if you share it. Right?" he says, taking a peak at it after the other hand is wiped clean. "Artifice devices? Gah, I have had my fill of those."

The white-scale sith-makar nods, touching Ezil's arm gently, two of her fingers, "If you go, be careful ok? The guy seemed really sketchy. I'm going to pass, but I know some people like that sort of risk."

She looks around at the other tables, then at his meal, "At least finish your meal before adventuring, ok?"

Cryosanthia slips off to deal with the rest of the tables, leaving Ezil to his meal, and the evening goes on.