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[TD1]

Kal gives a glad laugh, then looks surprised at his own amusement. With a quick shake of his head he moves to the front and thanks Steven.

We should get going - a Locksmith's, as the lad over there suggested, would be best. That collar will draw them like flies to dragon dung, until it's off.

[highmax28]

The gunslinger gives a nod and wink to the group as he makes himself audible and stern as he points the gun towards the others.

"Stop your whining and take this like a man! Get a move on! Let's go!"

Steven starts making his way, hoping that the two young men start walking.

Kal gives a glad laugh, then looks surprised at his own amusement. With a quick shake of his head he moves to the front and thanks Steven.

We should get going - a Locksmith's, as the lad over there suggested, would be best. That collar will draw them like flies to dragon dung, until it's off.

Steven waves his hand to get them moving.

"You can take enjoyment in this later. Come on!"

He quickly throws away and lights another cigarette and keeps the gun out, if only to draw people away.

[TD1]

Know any Locksmiths nearby, lad?

Assuming he says yes, makes sure Etoile is in front and leading. Keeps a careful eye out for pursuit, or gnomes/dwarves.

[Sirus]

With a sense of satisfaction, Aloisturm watched Master Meatbag drink himself into a stupor. Maybe now would be a good time for him and it to part ways; it had money, it had weapons, and the meatbag wasn't likely to wake up for several hours. It could enter the library, learn what it wanted, and be on its way.

As Aloisturm wondered whether to leave or not, it spied a trio of toughs fleeing from a nearby alleyway. How curious.

[Hanzoku]

Bastargre Widdershins
Bastargre Widdershins was fairly certain that today was the best day of his life. He had paraded his golem past all the other casters in town, evoking expressions of shock, wonder and jealousy. His golem had not just beaten, but pulverized the challenges in the morning, resulting in even more fame for Bastargre, as well as a comfortably filled pouch from the betting he had done.

Now, he had eaten a wonderful meal from the Rusty Dragon, and just about every person who came by to congratulate him on his fine construct or wonder at it had made sure that his tankard was topped up.

In fact, Bastargre was fairly certain that he had drunk too much, as he flopped over backwards on the bench. He raised a hand in the air and firmly started “Aloisturm, I think I need to lie down. Be so good as to bring me to my house, won’t you? I think we’re done for the day.”

Confident that his loyal construct would do as instructed, he let his arm fall, and closed his eyes to enjoy the well-deserved sleep of the victorious.
Aloisturm
Master Meatbag had been steadily drinking that day, and now that he was sitting down to lunch, had only picked up speed. Ravaging a plate of curry-spiced salmon and gulping down early winterdrop mead like it was water, the gnome belched in a thoroughly disgusting manner. Aloisturm was vaguely glad that its olifactory senses were muted as the smell of curry wafted through the air. The gnome slowly toppled from the bench and landed on the ground with a thud. His arm flopped as he muttered incoherently, and then began to snore.

Perfect.

Aloisturm picked up the gnome by one leg and stepped behind a tent set up by one of the taverns. The first thing he did was relieve the gnome of his pouch – and its winnings. The second was to open a barrel half-filled with turnips and stuff the gnome inside. He was probably upside down, but Aloisturm figured that that might be best – should it need to expel fluids, gravity would assist in ensuring that Master Meatbag didn’t choke to death.

Putting the top back on the barrel to mute the snoring from within, Aloisturm stepped back into sight as a trio of rogue, scar-faced men slid to a stop from where they ran out of a nearby alleyway.

“I think that bastard is working with the scaly thing.” One of them said dumbly.

“You think? Of course he was! He would have been back already if he was bringing them to the dwarves!”

“Cor, what do we do?” one of them panted.

“We need more boys, and our working gear, that’s what. Sam, you go and find Anders and his bashers. Joey, you go find Podiker and get him to open up his shop. Tell him… tell him ‘Have any happy pillbugs turned up lately?’. He’ll know to show you his special stock. Get some nasty things for our arrows. I’ll grab our bows and we’ll meet back here.” The scar-faced leader said, fingering his knives.

“S’ gonna cost a lot.”

“Yeah, and we’re splitting it a lot of ways.”

“You two… think about it, we got the bounty, we get the rewards from what that outlander won, and we sell their gear and split the profits.”

The two nod eagerly and the three split up. They never thought to worry about Aloisturm – after all, he was just a construct.

((Aloisturm gains 152g and is now free to move around. Do note that the House of Blue Stones is likely closed for the festival, as Sabyl Sorn is still in attendance to provide further fighting demonstrations after lunch.))
Steven, Kal, Etoile and Zeratuu
The group moves quickly through the streets, Zeratuu patting Etoile’s lower back comfortingly as he wheezes.

[Draconic]”Are you knowing how to make longlegs breath right? Kobold easy if wheezing, pull on tail hard and squawks automatically.”

Despite his distress, Etoile leads them to the locksmith’s house, located on the street near the Sandpoint Garrison, the ruins of the old lighthouse looming above them. Surprisingly, they find the dwarf, Volioker Briskalberd locking up, muttering to himself in annoyance. “Of course, the blasted fool manages to spill a plate of mutton on my clean new doublet… Had to change everything to coordinate properly.”

He pauses and looks up, frowning at the very odd group looking at him. “Look, lads, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a festival on, and I’m not exactly open for business. You can come back tomorrow, so why don’t you go enjoy the feast and dancing?”

[Sirus]

"Scaly thing"? How annoyingly vague. Aloisturm could probably name half a dozen scaled creatures using its knowledge of psionics alone.

Curious now (and with nothing better to do considering that the library was likely closed; most annoying), the construct approached the alley that the gang had emerged from. It reasoned that the "scaly thing" must be rather dangerous if the humans were going to bolster their numbers and equipment to such an extent. It wouldn't do them much good against anything truly dangerous, being squishy things and lacking true warrior training, but such was life. But Aloisturm was not squishy, and what little it could remember of its life before awakening in Master Meatbag's workshop left little doubt that it had been a soldier of some kind.

It would discover what this scaly thing was, and if need be deal with it.

[apiks]

After a moment of nobody saying something, Etoile figures that since he's the one that brought them here, he should speak up first.

"Uncle Volioker! It's an emergency! Our friend is stuck with this collar and can't get it off. Can't you make an exception for us? Please?"

Etoile's big light brown eyes gaze in a manner befitting one just about to cry into the dwarf's own, the exhausted youth's hands having clutched his notes.

Diplomacy check!

[Hanzoku]

((*roll* (Diplomacy) 1d20 + 5 vs ? : 21))

Volioker's eyes narrow, then he smiles. "Ah, Etoile, good to see you lad. It's been a while, hasn't it? I didn't recognize you there for a second. Alright, alright, come inside."

He unlocks the door and lets the group inside. As he bustles around and gets his tools, he says over his shoulder "What sort of collar are we talking about here?"

Etoile and Kal explain their findings, and Volioker grumbles in Dwarvern. "Nasty business, that sort of collar. The sort of thing-" he stops short as he sees the person wearing the collar for the first time.

"Lad, you're aware that that's a kobold, right?" He says cautiously.

[TD1]

Kal answers, to spare the obviously struggling "youth."

She was a prisoner, and so far has acted more civilised than her captors. She's safe to release, I will vouch for her.

[apiks]

Giving a glance of thanks to the nice person, Etoile nevertheless wants to see it too the end.

"She talks and thinks just like us, uncle. My great-grandfather taught me that slavery isn't a very nice thing regardless of who it is.

In fact you can ask her yourself. She speaks dwarven!
She is amazing, uncle Volioker. She looks kobold but has characteristics not found in most of her kind..."

At this point Etoile goes on a scientific rant regarding how her race is unique and different from normal kobolds until he is stopped.

((Lemme guess. To be remembered Etoile needs to pass a diplomacy check every time?

[Hanzoku]

((Not specifically, but you called him 'Uncle' which indicated a level of familiarity, so I rolled with it. Failure would have been something along the lines of 'aren't you a bit tall to be my nephew?' He would also have tried to shoo everyone away if you failed.))

Volioker waves the kobold over and points at a stool. [Dwarvern]"Sit here." he says as he puts a jeweler's loupe in his eye and examines the collar critically.

[Dwarvern]"Yes, thank you. Master Etoile is quite... naive, but he means well."

Volioker looks startled, but replies in the same language. [Dwarvern]"Yes, yes he does. I've known him for a number of years now, and he's a shy one, that lad. But never one to have a hard word about anyone."

As he's talking, Volioker is inspecting the collar minutely.

((*roll* (Perception) 1d20 + 9 : 20))

"Ah... ah, here it is. Look here, Etoile..." he says, not minding if the others crowd around as well as he points out the thin seam of the collar, and the latching mechanisms on each side. "Now, the trick is figuring out how to open this. It's not your ordinary lock, so picks are useless..."

Everyone starts receiving an impromptu lesson in locks and their mechanisms, the mechanical challenge firing Volioker's enthusiasm.

((*roll* (Disable Device) 1d20 + 11 : 27))

Suddenly, the dwarf hums to himself, a quiet 'Ah' as he makes a complex twisting motion with his hands and fingers, a series of clicks sounding as the collar suddenly comes away in two parts in his hands. "And that, my boy, is how that's done!" he says in satisfaction, tossing the two pieces onto the work bench.

Zeratuu touches her bare throat, feeling the buckled scales where the collar had sat for so long, and begins to cry before leaping around, hugging anyone not fast enough to get away and babbling thanks in Draconic, Dwavern, broken Common and another language.

[highmax28]

Steven keeps his eye to the streets, though his weapon isn't drawn to scare the dwarf, his hand was close to it. Steven guessed that if they returned to the dwarf and gnome, they'd have caught on that he was trying to save the young lad's life.

When the kobold hugs his leg, he gets startled and jumps and curses in goblin before speaking in dwarven.

{Dwarven}"I appreciate the gesture, but now isn't the time to celebrate yet."

{Common}" Those thugs will be coming back with backup. Any suggestions as to what to do? We can stand and fight them or we leave town and hope they don't pursue now that the collar is off."

((Had to edit post, I cut my post off while typing it))

[Hanzoku]

Volioker is listening and folds his arms, giving Etoile a disapproving look "Etoile, care to introduce your friends and one of you explain why thugs would be after you and where you got an unusual kobold?"

[apiks]

Etoile's stomach starts churning again.

"Uh ohhh..."

He looks at his "friends" with a look of worry. He doesn't know their names!

[Hanzoku]

Zeratuu looks sharply at her longlrgs and recognizes his greenish tinge. Stepping up, she looks around. This one is called Zeratuu." she says carefully in Common.