PayDay’s Journal 4 – We might be heroes?

Our return to the town with the fair maiden had us heralded as heroes. The town was so happy to have their stolen goods returned and to see a return to open trade that we were afforded no end of special treatment. I commissioned a hand crossbow, because I had an idea in mind for how I might mete out justice in the future. Shojin requested a fearsome cloak that might conceal his more Orc-like features, and that thing was truly hideous. It had a line of fur running down the top of his head and the boar hide used to make that infernal thing had been worked by the local craftsman until it was as soft as fresh linen. Z had gotten the local blacksmiths to test their metal with her undertaking, asking of them to make a hammer worthy of her goddess, Lolth. It was a hammer, a massive one. It was rounded on the one side and that side was made to look like the body of a spider with its legs coming around to the other side, the flat part where they met. It was a fearsome thing, and eventually she would wield it as though it were an extension of her person.

We were shown every courtesy and denied nearly nothing that was within reason. We were given the penthouse, such as it was at the Boar’s Head Tavern as our own little home away from home. And everything was going well until the captain of the guards returned home.

The captain of the local guard also happened to be the father of Vanessa Ott. Lassic or some such was his name. He was an old racist prick as we’d come to find out. He was so very grateful for all we had done for the village and for trade in general for the region he also needed us to fix a wrong the town had committed. He implored us to help them remove the town jail’s only resident. As was explained, about a month prior and in the dead of night Lassic’s assistant or deputy or whatever you call him Nofth was out one night returning from a late night journey to the outhouse he came upon a Dark Elf “lurking about”, there was a brief altercation and long story short a very unconscious elf became the towns prisoner. A prisoner because she was different and because the town had never seen one of her kind before. They distrusted her based solely off the stories they had heard, not because of anything she had done. They had no idea how to deal with her and so they kept her locked up.

And in that time, she refused to speak, ate only because she had no real choice and spent the rest of her time in quiet meditation. That is unless someone was to attempt to enter her cell. She would then fight like the caged animal they were treated her to be.

We were asked to apologize profusely for the towns transgressions and Z took the front on that. We invited her to join our merry band of fail. She declined and I didn’t blame her. Shojin had her gear and told her that she could get it all back if she joined us. Super tactful, I know, but I appreciated the attempt at motivation. I made him hand it all over and told her that she could join us or not. Her choice and we wouldn’t force her. But if she joined us, we could give her the chance to do something more. Something greater. But by the gods if I couldn’t have been more wrong. We suck so much. So, she requested a nice suit of studded mail covered in metal workings in a spider motif, tested her bow and checked her arrows. Oh yeah, and her name is Fayne.

And with that, we were off to Dillard to tell them of the return of open trade routes now that the issues on the trade route were dealt with. At least we thought they were dealt with and had no reason to doubt it at that point. So we started off on foot down the path to Dillard. And on the road we heard a clamoring and clattering from up around the bend in the path. So we asked Z to just keep straight on the path with the donkey we were given as a parting gift. Four travelers, one donkey. Some parting gift.

While Z was staying on the path the rest of us went sneaking off through the trees adjacent and worked toward the noise with our tasty dark elf carrot just tromping on down the road. And then we heard a small frail voice call out, “Who goes there?”