Ansalonian Adventures IC

[Gorgon_Heap]

The Lord City of Palanthas, the great port of the north. The jewel of Solamnia. The beautiful, precious home of noble families, sea trade, The Great Library. A vast and glorious testament to the ideals of human society, its endless streets and soaring towers stretching as far as the eye can see from the gleaming Bay of Branchala and up the verdant sides of the surrounding Vingaard Mountains.

Palanthas is truly the greatest city in the world.

You recall being told this once as autumn’s gray bleakness sends sheets of chilling rain and whips bitter wind though your clothes and deep into your bones. Bits of trash float down the well cobbled streets and shivering stray dogs look at you balefully from alleys. The occasional passerby is bundled against the weather and neither of you spare the other more than a cursory glance. The only people working out on the streets as dusk falters are a handful of lamplighters; soggy and miserable, bearing long wooden sticks with hooded ends they use to light the small oily wicks in the lamps along the major thoroughfares.

You would much rather be doing something else, pretty much anything else really, but a message had found you at seemingly the last possible moment from Gravvik Ironeater, and it wouldn’t wait. You owe the wily old dwarf a favor you’re sure he’ll keep over your head for the rest of your life if you don’t return it, so you wind your way through the cold wet streets to the small corner shop where he conducts his business not far from Smith’s Alley, in the eldest section of New City.

As you were called in haste, you walk through the solid front door into the familiar cluttered chaos of Gravvik’s shop. A sort of catch-all merchant, the dwarf has been established her for decades and works with everything you can think of. The open shop is a tangle of just about everything you could find at a general store, a pawn shop and an antiquities dealer. And it’s not a big shop.

Gravvik’s personal business is always done in the room at the rear of the shop, and you show yourself in maneuvering carefully to the door, tugging it open by shoving aside a leaning crate. You aren’t alone. And neither is he.

You arrive at nearly the same instant as several others, equally wet and out of breath. In the incredibly messy pipe-smoke filled room, lit by a hanging lamp over a table you are barely able to squeeze around, is Gravvik. With him is a dark-haired, thick-browed man in black leather armor. One hand is tugging Gravvik’s fine tunic and vest, the other holds a wickedly sharp knife. He looks quite annoyed to see you.

Gravvik, never taking his from his molester, leans back almost casually and puffs on his pipe. “Why look. My friends! What a surprise,” he says almost triumphantly.


Feel free to give me Perception or Insight rolls in OOC – it might help set the stage. Or don’t.

The nature of the favor owed to Gravvik is not germane to this; it was a hook, is all. But if you want to write up that scenario as a means of a little more character history, by all means do so.

[Deathkeeper]

If there are two things that try my patience, it's kender, and being in buildings not made with seven foot tall, horned gentlemen in mind.
So how did I wind up in the latter, with the former?

I have made plenty of disparaging comments about the kender and their questions about my people, especially regarding things like asking about why we don't have hooves, but I'll admit I was almost wishing we did have those. It would mean not having to walk miles in wet boots. I take every wet footprint in the stinking dwarf's store he'll have to mop up as a little bit of revenge for forcing me here. I mean, you get a guy out of town when the racists come knocking once, and you expect him to just sprint eighteen miles to you at a moment's notice?
I mean really it's a fairly reasonable expectation aside from the sprinting part but that wasn't helping my mood.

Oh, but it looks like someone has offered to help it along today. A warm, welcome helping of catharsis. My hand goes for the hammer at my belt. Not enough room to swing a sword here.
"Need me to pay you back already, Gravvik? Didn't think it'd be so fast. Did you want this discussion or did you call me to have it ended?" I rumble.
Intimidation roll on Mr. Stabby. Charisma plus Proficiency bonus, right? [roll0]

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina pulls her cloak tightly around herself as she makes her way down the road to the dwarf's shop. What could he possibly want already? It's been only a week, she thought to herself as she turned the final corner leading to Gravvik's shop.

She shakes the water off her cloak and makes her way to the back, "Are you back here, you old..." she starts to say, then cuts off as she nearly walks into a mountain of fur.

A minotaur...a...a real live minotaur, she almost says out loud. Looking up to the backside of this tall humanoid, eyes wide, she is struck speechless. Tarina has almost completely forgotten why she was summoned, let alone that she should be looking for Gravvik, and is totally oblivious to anyone else in the back of the shop.

[Majin]

Darrik ran in the rain, hood up. The old dwarf, Gravvik, had done him a favor couple of weeks ago and now wanted it paid back. He didn't mind, and visiting the dwarf's shop was fun, since he tended to just find things while there.

As Darrik entered the shop, he noticed there were a few people talking to Gravvik, one of whom was a real minotaur! Darrik immediately went to him, offering his hand. "Oh hello sir, my name is Darrik Proudfoot. This is exciting, I haven't met a minotaur before. Well except one, but I think he just wanted to snap my neck and I didn't really have time to talk with him since I had just found something interesting I wanted to take a closer look at. Are you a friend of Gravvik's? Are you a pirate? Do your horns ever get stuck in the ceiling, since you're so tall and all?". Darrik paused to take a breath and looked past the minotaur at the old dwarf. "Oh, hello Grav!"

[Gorgon_Heap]

When you all suddenly enter the already tight quarters, the wiry thug first appears surprised, then annoyed. He begins to turn toward the dwarf with a questioning snarl on his lips when the hulking minotaur presses himself through the door with a frustrated growl. He pauses instantly, the knife's edge dropping several inches. "What in the Abyss ... Gravvik, you scum." He glances at the chattering Kender but keeps his focus upward. He says, "This needn't concern you, minotaur. This is business between my employer and the dwarf."

The dwarf waves his pipe about pointedly. "No no. Oh, no. This here is their business as well, you see. Koshal here and the others are here to, er, expedite the resolution of your employer's concern. Yes, indeed. They're my help. And look at the assortment, eh? Surely you can go tell your employer I've made up for tardiness with some real effort. I mean I'm putting my best troubleshooters on it!" He grins at all of you and nods as if encouraging you to play along.


You barely manage to get into the room, and between the minotaur and thick smoke in your face, you're too preoccupied to get a clear impression of the man.

You are deeply interested in the minotaur, but your keen eyes pick up on some details about the thug. He seems to turn a shade paler when the minotaur speaks, and he's as wet as the rest of you, so he probably only just arrived as well. Also, his clothes aren't faded or frayed at all - they appear sturdy and new.

[Cool Trash]

Mara had arrived just late enough to catch the minotaur and the kender sauntering in, the former eyeing the latter like a very late lunch. Both races tended to be trouble, especially in a shop of all things. Mara wondered if she'd been called upon to deal with the two of them. Squires could probably help grab a kender, if it wasn't quick with a blade, but a minotaur...she moved to the side of shop, away from the rain, and turned to her squires.
"Alright. Listen up, everyone. I'm here to meet with Gavvik Ironeater-dwarven guy, that's his shop. Had a couple drinks with him when he made some deliveries to m'lord in Caergoth. Lot of trinkets in there, couple weapons, some nice things, some garbage. I'm going in to talk to him, pay him some kind of favor. You three are going to enter a minute or two after I do, and until we all leave this shop, you don't know me, because this is a learning opportunity." She hands Zee four gold pieces. "The three of you are going to find something nice in that shop-and Juliet has the last word on what's nice on this one, because she's a lady of taste-and working together, you're going to haggle it down to at least four gold pieces. Less if you can. Do it any way you like, so long as you don't break the law or get too immoral. Got me?"
She waits for confirmation, than hurries inside. She enters the backroom just as Gavvik finishes up his explanation. She clears her throat loudly as she enters, moving to the side of the other woman in chain and making sure not to get too close to the kender. "Gavvik, I know I'm not particularly popular right now, but did you really call in a Dame to help out your loan shark or... whoever this fine gentleman is?"She points to the man with the knife drawn flippantly as she speaks.

[Deathkeeper]

This time I admit that I did something that had I been on the other end, I would be complaining to you about.
I got snippy.
People often find it surprising when someone my size does so. It's rather entertaining, really, even if I admit it's not terribly polite.
If there's one thing I'm sure Kiri-Jolith frowns on me for, it's my tendency to drop my manners when irritable. Something to consider during meditation.

And really, am I wrong for getting irritable at the Refer To People By Their Race Game? I don't even do that for Kender. Well, not unless they do it first.
"On the contrary, human, I believe that since Gravvik's skills tend to rely in getting people to do everything for him, you might as well tell us, since it's unlikely that there's another plan besides us." I say, not being entirely nice to Gravvik, I suppose, but I didn't think he deserved all my niceties at that moment.

[Majin]

Koshal the minotaur didn't seem interested in answering Darrik's questions, though he didn't let that get him down, since it sounded like they would have more opportunities to talk. He then decided to check if Grav had gotten anything interesting. The human was pointing a knife at the old dwarf, but it seemed like everything was under control. "Oh yeah, I've shot at a lot of troubles", Darrik says as he examines an interesting looking trinket.

Darrik's hands make sleight of hand check to pocket the trinket: [roll0] without anyone noticing

[Gorgon_Heap]

The thug looks increasingly unsure and outnumbered, and Gravvik gently pushes the knife away with the long stem of his pipe. He looks at each of you with a thankful grin. But he responds to Koshal and Mara. "Now, not to worry, my horned friend. We don't share trade secrets or names during business. The details aren't important, especially when the results are sure to satisfy.

"And you wound me, my lady. As if a fine dwarf such as myself would need to rely on such a figure as some mischievous moneylender! Bah!"

He he stands up, showing little discernible between the length of the chair's legs and his own, and motions through the thick smoke and dripping audience toward the door. "Now then lad, you can go and assure your employer the matter is in hand." The thug looks distinctly unhappy, especially as he is forced to squeeze past each of you on his way out. "You better come through, Gravvik. My boss is getting impatient, and your a very visible example." He hesitates at each of you, pressing uncomfortably close. He can't keep his eyes on the kender (though he somehow manages to smack an adventuresome hand) and can't help but share a nervous stare with the towering minotaur as rainwater drips upon him from horns and fur. He actually looks a bit apologetic when brushing against the ladies. Up that close he's actually a rather handsome roguish sort.

A moment later you hear the front door open and shut and Gravvik sags back into his chair. "Whoo. Many thanks to you all. And before you go blamin' and shoutin', yes; of course I'll share secrets and names. Because I need your help and each of you owes me."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

After stepping out of the way of the quite handsome young man exiting the shop, Tarina turns to her friend, Gravvik.
"Gravvik, I'm so sorry it took so long to get here," Tarina says, glancing back and forth between the dwarf and the minotaur, obviously distracted. A sudden thought seems to come to her and Tarina rounds on the dwarf with a startled look on her face. Was that a knife?!? You should have said you were in trouble! I can't believe someone would come in here and harass such a sweet old man like this!

[Gorgon_Heap]

The dwarf smiles amiably around the room and wiggles his fingers at the kender for a moment. "What didja find there, lad? Mayhaps you should take a look in your bag and find a corresponding empty spot on the shelf."

At the young woman's words, Gravvak practically spits. His bushy eyebrows rise, as does his voice into a very undwarflike pitch. "O-old! Why, girl I've barely seen eighty years!" he jabs his pipe at the young lady wearing rather decrepit armor, spilling ash over his tunic and the table. "Old," he blusters, "Respecting your elders is one thing but to take such liberties ..."

Just then three young faces appear in the doorway, looking about curiously though the haze and low-hanging junk. The foremost, a very pretty girl of about 16, with skin the color of coffee beans and primped, curled hair spilling across her shoulders like spun light chocolate, twists her mouth in distaste at the sight. She looks deliberately at Dame Mara, quite disappointed, and says in a high Ergothian accent, "We don't know you."

She then escorts the two teenage boys back into the shop proper.

Gravvik shakes his head. "Hell of a thing. Close the door, one of you.

"Now look. I got me a client who's been waiting very patiently for a certain item. I sent one of my best men to bring the thing home to Palanthas, but I haven't heard from him in over a month. I fear the worst for the poor man, and beyond that it's put my arse in the fire. If something's happened to him, then I need capable folk to either find him and the item or learn what happened to him and come back with the item. That'd be you. Shouldn't take too long, and then we'll all be evens, yeah?"

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

At Gravvik's admonission, Tarina says, "No, sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." She is relieved when his attention turns to the three young strangers entering the shop, and even more relieved when he doesn't return his glare to her. "I'm no good at this stuff, but I know She chose me for a reason. Help me be strong, M'lady. she mumbles to herself as Gravvik continues on about the proposed mission.

As he finishes, Tarina has hardly heard a word the dwarf has said. "Of course I'll help you, Gravvik. After what you've done for me, I can hardly leave you out in the cold now. We'll all help." Tarina looks around the room of strangers, though not making eye contact with the minotaur. "Right?" she asks, not sounding sure anyone will agree with her.

[Deathkeeper]

I resisted the (severe) temptation to roll my eyes.
"That remains to be seen. I need details, Grav. If the 'item' is, say, a dragon's egg or some-such, then I don't owe you nearly that much. What is it, and where did you send that guy?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest.

[Majin]

"Oh that's impossible, I never would..." Darrik mutters as he went through his bags. "Well look at that, sometimes my hands just seem to move their own", Darrik says and puts item back on the shelf. Then he crosses his arms tightly, as if to keep them from moving.

"Ooh, dragon egg, that would be so exciting! Please tell me we have to find a dragon egg! I'm happy to help with whatever the task is! Unless it's boring"

[Shieldheart]

The Lord City of Palanthas. The greatest city in the world, or so one braggart human merchant had once told him the first time he'd come here. He had been young enough and gullible enough to entertain the remote possibility that that was the case. He still remembered the keen disillusionment that he had felt at actually entering the city. As he walked down the rain-soaked streets, he could almost taste it again.

Hobnobbing with humans and dwarves had never been Aenshae's idea of having a good time; it was necessity that had brought him to Solamnia and it was honour that now bade him heed the summons of an upstart dwarf. He could not deny he owed Gravvik a debt and he would be damned if he would let the dwarf claim a Silvanesti had done wrong by him. So it was he found himself pushing open the door that was the entrance to the dwarf's personal room at the back of his messy little shop.

And so it was he found himself looking up at a minotaur, taking up almost all the space in the tiny little room. Aenshae grit his teeth; his nostrils flared angrily. A minotaur here in Palanthas! His hand gripped his wand tightly and he half raised it, his eyes falling on the dwarf. "I'm here like you asked, Gravvik." He said, his voice carrying a strong Silvanesti accent. "Now please tell me that the task you called me up for involves disposing of a minotaur." He almost snarled, trying hard to contain his roiling emotions.

[Cool Trash]

Mara furrowed her brow; she knew Juliet hadn't yet warmed up to the life of a minstrel yet, and if there was anything a woman needed to be, it was willful. She'd hoped she'd at least be interested in bartering-there were few more lucrative ways to show off one's social intelligence, and Mara herself had been delighted by the practice when Priscilla had first taken her to the port markets, all salt air and bearded merchants and wonderful little trinkets hidden between slop. Ugh. Well, she had all the time in the world to wrangle her in, but Gravvik seemed to need help now.

Mara pushed her silver blonde locks forward, shielding sight of the scars on her neck as she lowered her hood and sat down at the nearest open chair. "...Sorry about that. What I said earlier, I mean. If an innocent's in danger, I'm glad to help. But I'll naturally need to know more about this man. Who is he? What doe he look like? And if this item is worth a knife to your throat, how do you know he didn't just split with the thing?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

The dwarf doesn’t appear to care about the angry elf’s opinion, but he does give the wand a concerned glance. “I could say that, but it would be a lie, so I won’t. Mind yourself in my shop. Your grudges don’t carry weight so far as my lifeblood is concerned. Especially given present company.” He draws on his pipe and realizes it’s out, and mechanically goes about refilling and relighting it.

“Tarina here is a priestess of Mishakal. Mother? Sister? Revered Daughter? Not sure what the label is, sorry. And this is Dame Mara Torson of Caergoth. The kender is Darrik Proudfoot. Koshal, meet Aenshae of Silvanesti.

“No no. No dragon egg. That would be crazy and irresponsible. And just not efficient from a cost/reward standpoint. Nope, it’s a piece of art; a statuette of significant beauty and worth, called The Brass Cat. It’s actually good for business, as it tends to pass hands frequently. Now my man, Robert of Dawn’s Peak, went of to speak with his connection and collect the Cat in … well, not it’s this nice seaside village. Just a nice voyage up the coast a way. And, uh, a bit eastways.” He shrugs. “Pentar. In northern Nordmaar. But it’s really closer than it sounds.”

You all know vaguely of Nordmaar, of course, as a land of savage horsemen and tropical forests. It’s also many hundreds of miles away.

“Don’t you worry. I know a certain ship captain who’s heading that way and owes me a favor, and is willing to take a party hither and back gratis. You sail on out, see some sights, ask a few questions, bring back a stone kitty and maybe a body. Two weeks tops.” He smiles toothily.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

"Wow, Gravvik. You know so many people. You must have done a lot of nice things for people. So many are willing to drop everything to help you out. You are so sweet."

Pentar. I've heard of the Sacred Gardens there. The beautiful temples to the gods Can we see them? It sounds beautiful. It sounds like there are so many things to see." She pauses for a moment and the exuberance comes out of her for just a moment. "It sounds so far from here."

Another thought occurs to Tarina, apparently in rapid-fire. "How about Kalaman? Can we stop in Kalaman and see the Temple of Mishakal there? I hear that it is beautiful, and I really would like to see it."

She then realizes nobody else has really agreed to help Gravvik out, and looks around the group anxiously.

[Majin]

"Oh, doesn't sound as exciting as getting a dragon egg, but still it could be pretty fun. With good luck, we might see some sea monsters. Count me in!" Darrik exclaimed enthusiastically.

[Cool Trash]

Mara thought about it. One of the nice things about wandering was that you could go wherever you liked, for better or worse. She wasn't sure if she knew what kind of music they played in Nordmaar, or how friendly they'd be to essentially street performers. And what of her squires? She'd never asked, but most of them probably already had their sea legs-if they didn't, now was the time. But then there was the matter of living quarters...

She looked up at Gravvik. "I need at least two quarters on the ship. Both of decent size. And storage for my caravan and horses. Otherwise, I can't help you."

[Shieldheart]

Aenshae didn't appear to pay the dwarf any mind at first, staring up at the minotaur. But at last, he snarled under his breath and put the wand away, his expression smoothing as he turned to the other occupants and bowed gracefully while introductions were made. Well, he bowed to the priestess of Mishakal and the Dame Mara - a knight of some sort? - but he gave the kender a slightly disdainful nod and ignored the minotaur entirely. "Aenshare of Silvanost, Wizard of the White Order," he said quietly, but proudly.

He kept an eye on the minotaur as he listened to Gravvik speak, his brow furrowing further and further. Nordmaar?! To acquire some stolen statuette?! Did the dwarf consider him some sort of mercenary, to be sent off to errands like an child?

To his dismay and irritation, the two women both accepted the dwarf's offer, one rather exuberantly, while the other at least seemed a bit more level-headed. The kender, of course, did so. He had been intent on declining the mission; better to carry a life debt for a little longer than accompany a minotaur on a sea voyage to a lawless, uncivilized land. But he did not want to lower himself in front of these others either. Certainly not in front of a minotaur!

"I am certain,he said, his voice a little cold, "that you know better than to think I would simply accept a commission like this just because you called on the debt I owe you. This thing will take months, Gravvik. I can't spare months. Besides, you'd have me share air with a... He grimaced, eyes shining with anger, A minotaur. Give me a good reason to do this, or I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere for your wizard."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Gravvak nods gratefully to Darrik as soon as the kender opens his mouth. “I’m sure sea monsters are better enjoyed at a distance, lad.” At Tarina’s enthusiasm he’s a little more sedate. “I don’t know religious sites from snake knees, and Kalaman’s not on the itinerary. Once this is done you can plan a trip of your own maybe.”

He squints with one eye and gives an impatient puff toward Aenshae. “I tell the truth, and that’s why folks trust me. And the truth is it should take two weeks, or else why would I be worried if my man was overdue so soon? And since when can’t an elf spare a few months, anyway? You back out and I’ll only do what I always do; tell the truth. And the truth’ll be you can’t be bothered to repay your debts. How’ll that reputation help your cause, whatever it is? Whatever their sins, minotaurs are good to their word.” He points at Koshal. “You going to show him you ain’t?”

But when Mara levels her brief ultimatum, Gravvak rocks back in his chair in surprise.

“What d’ya – now what do you expect here, yer ladyship? I realize this isn’t the best timing so I got you a free berth to and from. Shouldn’t be anything out of pocket for you, just footwork. If you need to take your retainers and such you'll have to do that on your own. I’m doing what I can to help – and I don’t have a household staff waiting back in some fancy manor to care to my dailies.

My man Robert's been working with me for a decade and he's made a fair pile of coins doing it. And of course he knows better than to cross my clients.” He gives a complete and detailed description of Robert of Dawn's Edge, as well as the sorts of places he's likely to frequent and the sorts of ladies he's likely to seek once there.

He relaxes and awaits answers from the holdouts.


You each start to realize Gravvak does not actually know a lot of personal details of your lives. But he’s a shrewd businessman, and he probably doesn’t help people out without knowing anything about them.

[Deathkeeper]

I ignore the priestess. She is kind, naive, and can have things explained to later.
I ignore the kender. This is the appropriate response when there is a kender in the room.
I ignore the other woman, despite her demands making the sailor in me want to laugh in her face.
Then the elf speaks.

I turn, ever so slowly. Every single scrap of self-control comes together to make sure that I do so as gently as I possibly can, without baring even a hint of the rage that burns in my breast at that moment. Kiri-Jolish guide me; Sargas whispers in my ear. And damn is he persuasive.
"We of the Isles do not all hold it against the elves, or any of the others, our ancestor's long years of servitude. If we do against the Ogres, it is because of their present sins. I do not speak for those who gave the commands regarding Silvanost, and I have not been to my home since the Throne was restored. I am not responsible for any of the crimes to which you hold all my people responsible for. To hold me in contempt for them is not only foolish, but spits in the face of your Order, which proclaims to use its magic for the betterment of the world. Solinari might be more...esoteric than his father or brother, but none of Paladine's children would look favorably on your pettiness today. " I say, slowly. Ever so slowly. Without further comment, I turn away from the man.
"I should likely be on my way soon, rain or not. I doubt I'll get a better mission if I choose to wait for later to pay you back, Gravvak. I can explain things to anyone who's not experienced with ships. It isn't as simple as getting on and standing there for a few days. Let me know now if there's anything else."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina stands quietly as the minotaur berates the elf, pointedly looking everywhere around the shop except at the two. She felt bad for the elf, Anshy? Ansay? This reminded her way too much of the time Father Reginald called her out for running and hiding from a Draconian the first time she had seen one. The stories all told of the evil which brought them into the world, and Tarina had never previously met a Flame Draconian, nor heard of good Draconians, prior to his visit to the temple.

Glad that's not me, slips out of Tarina's lips without her even seeming to notice.

[Shieldheart]

The elf's pale skin suffused with colour, first at Gravvik the dwarf's insolence and then the minotaur's rebuttal. He could hear the bull's words drip with contempt and it was all he could do not to give into the rage storming in his heart and cast a curse on the creature.

"It is a bitter and cruel irony to hear a minotaur speak of pettiness and chastise me for not living up to the precepts of my god." Aenshae said, giving a bark of laughter. "You speak of present sins? As we speak, your kin holds mine in slavery, destroying a land and a people that has held fast for millenia. You speak of past sins? The Silvanesti have never been responsible for the enslavement of your people in the past. You speak of the betterment of the world? When the Empire is driven back into the ocean and the forests of Silvanesti are free again, the world will be bettered." He laughed again, a bitter noise. "Forgive me if I do not take your declaration to be untainted by the crimes of your people to heart. I have learned not to trust the self-serving lies of evil men."

"And you!" He said, suddenly turning on the dwarf. "How dare you threaten to besmirch my name for your own petty purposes? How dare you imply I have less honour than...him. I am Aenshae of House Mystic. I do not go back on my word. I will find out what happened to your man and I will bring this statuette of yours back. And then my debt to you will be done. The elf declared, standing tall and firm, full of righteous indignation.

[Majin]

Darrik patted the haughty elf on the back. "That's the spirit!"

[Gorgon_Heap]

The dwarf grins and coughs a little, tilts back to peer at a whirring little lumpish device on a shelf behind him. "It's gettin' late. Thank you all for this; you may keep me from being stretched to a very undignified height for a dwarf. The ship's the Clampherdown, pier 21, under Captain McKinnon. Due to leave dawn the day after tomorrow."

He starts shooing you all out of the shop, answering any last questions as you go - but a lot of the details of the pickup were privy only to Robert. He locks up behind you draws a heavy bolt on the inside of the door, leaving you all - including the three youngsters (with their few small purchases) - together in the wet street, lit only by an oil lamp about fifteen feet away, as the moons have yet to rise.

The teens - all barely younger than the cleric in your midst - are all dressed in new, sturdy traveling clothes that are nonetheless now quite damp. They are worried, gesturing and urging each other until the eldest, the dark-skinned girl, speaks for them. She speaks to Mara with words of respect but an inflection connoting mere tolerance. "My lady, while we certainly didn't mean to listen in, the ... confines of that place made overhearing some of your discussion impossible to ignore. If you are to undertake this errand with these people, what of us? Are we to accompany you? Remain here?" She adds pointedly; "Return to Caergoth?"


Feel free to roll in OOC for info, attitudes and/or ask questions.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge

Tarina gets rushed out of the shop by her dwarven friend and stands in the rain for a moment, processing everything which just occurred. Aside from the one time she sailed from Northern Ergoth to Palanthas, Tarina had never been on a ship. She had no idea what she even needed. It makes it easier, she thought, that I hardly have anything. I'll just bring it all.

She looked around at the group unceremoniously deposited outside Gravvik's shop, wanting to introduce herself more, but unsure if anyone was in the mood after dealing with Mr. Gravvik. There was a long trip ahead, and that may be a better time. She stands in the mud awkwardly for a few moments, then turns and heads back to her room at the inn. The day after tomorrow. Don't sleep in.

[Deathkeeper]

I'm fairly sure that the elf said something to me at that point, but I'd suddenly developed some sort of temporary curse that prevented me from being able to speak Pompous Git. Probably something about how the very clearly recorded history of my people is wrong, because everyone knows that elves love recording and publicizing all their dark and incriminating actions.

Did I tell him that we don't hold things against the elves? I think I might have lied. Well, most of us not in the armies needing reason to justify fighting don't hold grudges to the point of killing. The rest of us just find it all mildly distasteful. The slavery thing was rather unfortunate. It's poetic justice for some, but it's mostly hypocritical to the rest of us. I've long suspected that changes weren't made to the practices there primarily because going back on past decisions would make the Empire look weak. Either way, I'd never been in the Empire's formal navy, so I wasn't telling any Elven half-truths when I said I was innocent of it.

Either way, back in the rain. I should really get a nice hat. Takes extra coin, finding a human or dwarf that's willing to try making the horn-holes. Of course, there's no hat in the world that'll keep the rain off your nose. Well, there is if you're...anything but one of us or a dragon, actually. I will concede this point in the arguments of racial superiority: we're are the only mortal race that can wear a hat and still get our faces wet in the rain.

I was thinking about all of this because my alternative was to risk actually hearing the elf or start humming something to block him out, and I still had some discretion. And in doing so, waited a bit too long. Oops. They're leaving. Two days. Enough time to get a hat. Or a helmet.
And enough time for a pretty young cleric to get her throat slit in an alley.

I was assuming she was pretty anyway. I didn't exactly stare during the conversation, but she seemed like the kind humans seem to go for. Not sure why they seem to like their women without muscle, but everyone has something.
Either way, the other woman seemed to speak of retainers or some such. I'm sure she afforded to employ at least one of them as a guard.

I trot up to the poor priestess, trying my best to not be too imposing. It's...hard, since I'm twice her size.
"Where are you staying, Miss? The rain is a deterrent but it's not going to keep the streets from being dangerous for a lone young lady. I don't mind taking a few minutes if you'd rather have someone with you." I offer. Is "Miss" proper? Do humans say Your Grace or something like that? Or is that only for high priests and priestesses? Oh Abyss take it, she's definitely not the sort to correct me on that.

[Majin]

"I think I'll be coming with you guys as well", Darrik said to Koshal and Tarina. "I have to figure where I'm staying tonight. Cells here in Palanthas are pretty comfy, but I don't to abuse the guards' hospitality too much".

[Shieldheart]

Aenshae cast the kender a death glare, but there wasn't much time to teach the scamp a lesson. As soon as he'd agreed to the expedition, the dwarf was ushering them all from the shop. Aenshae found himself unceremoniously deposited back on to the street, an unpleasant drizzle complicating things. Almost unconsciously, he cast Mage Hand, so the spectral hand would keep him from getting too wet.

He was thinking of finding his way back to his lodgings in the city when his attention was commanded both by the cleric being approached by the minotaur and by the other woman being accosted by her own underlings apparently. Caergoth? Solamnic, then. Who was she, he wondered. If she had a retinue, perhaps she was someone worth paying attention to.

But the greater part of his attention was directed towards the blasted minotaur and the young cleric. From what he had seen in the shop, she was not the brightest creature and it would be a terrible shame if a cleric of Mishakal fell prey to some ill-begotten bull-monster.

"It is not a terrible idea to fight fire with fire, so to speak," he said, walking up to the two and bowing to the cleric. "But surely a wizard who has been vetted by the Tower itself to be worthy of a White Robe is more reliable than..." He cast a withering glance at the minotaur. "Others." He finished.

[Fishybugs]

Anticipating some time to be alone with her god, Tarina is unnerved to suddenly find herself the center of attention between the two confrontational individuals.

Mishakal, Your Word steadies me. "I'm sorry, sirs. I didn't catch your names. Everything happened so quickly."
Your Word gives me strength. "I thank you both for your kindness and willingness to look out for me."
Your Word chases away my worry and my fears. "However, I'm not in the habit of associating with brutish men who rush into places in quite a huff and make a scene without even the courtesy of introducing themselves."
Your Word refreshes me. "I would be happy to share a meal with all of you if you think we can make it through without any excessive glaring, as she looks at the minotaur, or wand pointing, as she looks at the elf.

Now. Mr. Proudfoot, she begins with a pointed look toward the others, would you care to join me for dinner? Without waiting for an answer, she turns and resumes the trek to her inn.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Tarina recalls her teachings to give herself strength and confidence in this very unusual situation, but to the outside observer she's still quite out of sorts.

Now once again sodden in her ill-kempt armor, she fidgets under your attention. Her words are polite, but said quietly and rapidly between slow breaths during which she half closes her eyes and seems to be silently moving her lips.

She stabs a final glare at the elf and minotaur while inviting the kender for dinner and retreating with haste.

[Deathkeeper]

I blink. It isn't really her fault; it had been a very quick conversation.
"You must have missed it, Miss. Gravvak introduced me when we came in. Either way, I'm sure that all conversation can be kept quite civil." I say with a small smile, while I silently go through all of my belongings in my head to remember which ones are low enough to be within a kender's reach. Holy symbol around the neck, ring in the nose, too high for them. Just the steel in my purse, really. Better move that into a higher pocket.
"And you would be surprised, Sirrah. Many low-lives willing to steal for their dinner are too uneducated to recognize a mage when they see one. Especially since the moons were gone for years. They'll take anyone who doesn't look like they can hit back as a mark. Of course, this city is more safe than some others. I don't foresee anyone doing more than trying to cut your purse on the main streets."
I tell the elf. It's perfectly accurate advice, though I doubt that he'll take it as such. Really, there are people who will actually try to mug someone who can kill with a word and a gesture, as if their vows of benevolence stops them from self-defense. Or hell, at a bar once I heard of someone trying to rob a black-robe. Who would even bother with that? Sure, as the saying goes: no matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style. But that's assassin's work, not any two-copper thief. Fools.

[Majin]

"Oh yeah, dinner sounds nice!" Darrik exclaims and follows Tarina.

Darrik notices Koshal hiding his steel better."Good thinking, there are lots of thieves in these human cities. And aren't they just the worst! I don't think I've ever even met a kender who's a thief, at least there weren't any back home".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina takes a few steps away from the group, Darrik at her side. As Koshal speaks up, she stops and listens to his words directed both to her and to Aenshae.

"You're correct, Mr. Kosha? Kishal? Please accept my apologies. I may have been a little abrupt. The....stress of being alone and so far from home may be more than I anticipated. I have to trust Mishakal will not give me more than I'm able to handle." Tarina takes a few moments to gather herself before continuing.

"You are all of course welcome to join us for dinner. We are to travel together after all. Do you have acommodations? I'm at an inn just around the corner. I'm afraid it's a little run down, a little rough, and all I can say about the food is that it is hot...usually." Her face turns up in a revolted expression. "Even the milk."

[Deathkeeper]

I wave a hand to her. No big deal.
"Koshal. I'm staying at a small-time tavern down by the docks. Bit of a trade secret. Mostly used by the sailors, so you'd need to like fish and the smell of it, but I can at least promise you that the food's at least as good as the patrons are rowdy. And the patrons are sailors." I tell her with a chuckle.

This also means that about one in twenty of them are folk like me, who've left the Isles for whatever reason and are working in other seas, but I honestly was wondering if the elf would see that implication.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Whatever reservations they have Koshal’s new acquaintances follow along mostly due to inertia. But that alone doesn’t make the walk any more pleasant, and Palanthas is a big, big city. Walking along in the wind and rain it takes you at least a half hour to reach the docks, where the streets, businesses and taverns are as busy as ever (sailors generally not being bothered by weather).

Koshal grunts recognition when he spies his destination; the Red Coral Tavern.

A two-story wooden building, the shingle alone makes it stand out from the surrounding buildings. Shops, merchant offices, supply dealers, bawdy houses, taverns and such stretch on in every direction and several hundred yards away you can see masts towering over rooftops. As you walk up to the door you can hear music, shouts and thunderous guffaws. The door sweeps open suddenly and two men stumble out, immediately covering their faces from the rain. They halt mere inches from Koshal’s chest, and one man gapes upward into the minotaur’s muzzle before immediately sagging and vomiting onto his own shoes. His companion, a little more clear-headed, pulls his distressed friend out of your way and on down the street.

For most of you this tavern is a unique experience. Solidly built enough to have kept much of the noise within its walls, the Red Coral is a vast open hall, well lit by chandeliers that look like horizontally hanging anchors (No, they’re real anchors) oil lamps and a hearth in every direction. The entire second floor is an open overlooking the first floor. The walls are a collage of papers and parchments, everything from maps to clippings from news broadsheets to job postings to wanted posters. Dozens of people fill the hall, humans of a half-dozen ethnicities, elves, keener – even a trio of minotaurs and a couple dwarves. A pair of young human men are playing a fast-paced duet on the small stage to the left, and many customers are laughing and singing along. Others play cards or dice, while others arm wrestle or spin their own yarns. You think you make out two men pitching knives into a wooden shield on the right wall. Several women whirl about like dancers with trays, distributing goblets, bottles, soup, bread, chunks of meat and fried fish. At the rear is the kitchen, next to which – opposite the hearth – is an open doorway which the bartender is keep a keen eye on. The hall leads to the back third of the building, which is made up of scores of microscopic rooms available for nightly rental.

A man stands and approaches. He’s short and wiry, wearing hugely baggy pants and a simple, worn vest over nothing despite the chill outside. He’s got dark tan skin and several piercings, and most of his exposed skin is covered with intricate tattoos. He speaks with a very unusual accent. “Well, Koshal. You find money to play again? The dice don’t roll for free.” He spots the rest of you and his face sours as he looks you over. “What’s this?”


You've known Rakkitt for years, seemingly bumping into him at every third port. He's from the isle of Saifhum.

[Deathkeeper]

"Maybe not, Darrik, but I've met plenty who liked to borrow things. Most of the people in here will be leaving soon and won't be giving an opportunity to return things, though, so if you're that kind try not to tonight." I tell him idly on the way here. I really couldn't think of any better way to put it.

The tavern is a welcome sight. Not even drunks can ruin it. And not even Rakkitt and his woeful dice.
"Rakkitt, you devil, stop following me!" I tell him genially, shaking his hand and giving him a thump on the shoulder.
"Companions an employer of mine's hired for a job. Old Gravvak had a debt he called in. And since they'll be on a ship soon enough with me for that, I promised 'em at least one decent meal before that. Have a seat, ladies and gents." I say to them with a wave. I'm sure even they can get to a table without trouble.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina

Tarina follows Koshal through the city of Palanthas, overwhelmed with the size. She didn't realize any single place could be so large. At the mention of a better meal, her hand unconsciously moves towards her coin purse, contemplating how much longer she could make last the small amount of money she had. It may be time, she conceded to herself, that I look into staying at the temple.

She continues following the group through the city and grins in amusement at the loud, rough place near the docks Koshal stops at until she realizes this is actually where he intends to have a meal. The scent of fried fish, and who knows what else, makes her belly rumble. As she walks through the front door, she can't help but stare around in wide-eyed wonder at the decor, the patrons, and the papers covering the walls with pictures and words of so many different languages. As she enters the room, she looks down at her feet, wondering what her boots are sticking to...without thinking too deeply about it. She feels herself get pushed towards a table and seats herself on the bench before realizing the bench may also be just as sticky.

The smell of smoke, pitch, food, and the sea blended to assault her nose as she adjusted to the environment. When the waitress comes around, Tarina will order some hot tea.

"Who knew so many odors could blend to become so...unusual?" She asks herself wistfully.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Rakkitt appraises you at a glance, and makes a gesture with his hand, sort of an upside down cup with a sideways jerk. He walks you to a nearby table with several open seats - others are occupied, but the sailors ignore you. "Fine, you have work then. Good. Work means money. You can all play dice - money is money." His eyes turn from the kender, to whom he nods, to the white-robed elf to the young cleric, her gleaming holy symbol shining against tattered old mismatched armor. He look back at the elf. "Wizards have money. Would you gamble, wizard?"

[Shieldheart]

Aenshae bristled at the unexpected brush-off by the young cleric. Brutish men?! Huff?! He had rarely been insulted so baldly and by a cleric of Mishakal at that!

He ignored the minotaur's advice - was it because it was perfectly sound? - and instead graciously forgave the young woman's faux-pas when she apologized. "No matter, my dear. It has been a trying time for us all, I'm sure." He said indulgently. "I am staying at a fellow wizard's quarters nearby, but I am sure..."

He stopped speaking when he realized the minotaur was directing them all to some slovenly tavern he had set his lair up in and to his dismay the rest of the companions agreed to accompany him there for dinner. He would have refused outright, were it not for his concern regarding the young cleric and her naivete. He would never forgive himself if his pride resulted in her being harmed in some way.

He followed them to this tavern, mouth twisting in revulsion as they neared the establishment. He would not have expected any better from a minotaur, but by Paladine and Mishakal, this was a hovel! And more minotaurs to boot!

He held himself stiffly, making sure no muck and grime touched his pristine robes as they entered. He sat gingerly at the edge of one of the seats the patron, a very...colourful looking human, pointed them at. He gave the man a withering look at his question. "I am not in the habit of throwing my money away, good sir." He said. "I wouldn't trust anyone here not to try and cheat chance in any case."

[Gorgon_Heap]

The tattooed man grins pearly white at the elf. "Smart," Rakkitt says, "but no fun. Kender! You will play dice with me, yes? And tell me, where do you go with this work? I'm always looking for fresh waters, but you don't have the look of sailors." He gets a gleam in his eye. "What's it pay?"

[Deathkeeper]

"We're all paying back debts, Rakkitt. I doubt the old dwarf will be paying us much for all the trouble besides promising not to hold things over our heads. We're just finding something so his own collectors lay off him." I interject quickly before the kender can blab everything.

[Fishybugs]

Finally remembering silence is often mistaken for wisdom and tranquility, Tarina sits and sips her tea.

[Majin]

Darrik is about to open his mouth, when Koshal speaks over him. "Oh right!" he says and makes a shushing gesture.

"Umm, playing for steel is pretty boring. Do you have anything interesting?" Darrik says to the tattooed man.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Rakkitt clearly responds, "Ugh." But then his inner gambler get hold and he reaches up, tugging something from under his vest - a necklace full of Great Big Pointy Teeth. "Do you?"

[Fishybugs]

Tarina gasps when she sees the necklace of teeth, then coughs as she aspirated a little bit of her tea.

What have I gotten myself into, she thinks as she looks around the strange inn.

[Majin]

"Ooh, that is certainly interesting. Hold on", Darrik says to Rakkit and goes through his pouches, finally pulling out a big red scale. "How about this? It's from an actual red dragon!".

[Gorgon_Heap]

Rakkitt's chest inflates and he raises a tattooed brow. "Oh, yeah? What was its name? Cuz this string of teeth was yanked from the mouth of a giant, rampaging, blood-mad manticore by the great Hitzuitlic plains hunter Xahkdahl, who gave it to me after I saved his life from a mudslide during a monsoon!"



The rest of you are free to interact or enjoy yourselves, but if you're good I'll wrap this as soon as the amusing conversation is over.

[Deathkeeper]

I shake my head with a small smile.
"If we're betting on trinkets, I'll pass. I'm not giving you any more chances for you to claim that you've won my ring." I tell him.
The lad's been trying to win the ring out of my nose for years. Probably just so he can tell the story. It would be rather funny, if it wasn't well, mine.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina is taken back by the necklace, but also fascinated by it.

Insight roll to see if he's telling the truth on it's origin: [roll0]

[Majin]

"That sounds exciting! I wouldn't know who it belonged to, I just happened to find it one day, I think" Darrik says to Rakkitt. "Shall we play?"

[Fishybugs]

Tarina

Tarina looks just as, if not more, surprised by the kender's presentation of the dragon scale. "Darrik, that is probably worth more than a necklace full of old teeth. Surely you don't want to gamble that dragon scale away?"

She then continues quietly sipping her tea and watching the interactions between her group and the inn's patrons.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Tarina begins to feel as she watches other patrons she herself is being watched. She's hardly the only woman in the room, but between the experienced waitresses, self-confident sailors, and a number of other women wearing provocative and bright dresses and who are appear shockingly forward with their intentions, the innocent young blonde stands out as a timid, serene pool in the storm. Eyes drift her way and take her measure ... usually only for a few moments before turning away with pointed disinterest.

Rakkitt meanwhile, is already shaking a cup of dice and coaxing Darrik into a bet before Tarina can talk him out of it. "Only a matter of time, Koshal," he says, spilling dice on the tabletop while tipping a cup of wine to his mouth.


Please give me three straight Wisdom roll for your Gaming checks.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina

Tarina sits up a little straighter, fussing nervously more and more as the evening progresses. She occasionally shifts in her seat, and fiddles with her cape, sometimes self-consciously pulling it tight around herself, and other times patting and pulling it straight behind her to reveal her holy symbol for all to see.

[Majin]

"But I've already had this for a while, it's more exciting to get something new!" Darrik says to Tarina.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Gorgon_Heap]

Rakkitt drinks and bets and rolls his dice and after a mere five minutes he curses and throws his cup nowhere in particular when his half-drunken tactics fall before kender luck. "Damn kender! Never again!" he shouts and rattles on in some strange language none of you understands. He points at Koshal, promising another meeting in the near future and stalks off to find his cup and refill it.

You all enjoy (or don't) the rest of the evening and part ways when the drunken partying becomes just sloppy drunkenness. You return to your lodgings with plenty of worries for the upcoming journey and the companions you find yourselves with.


Darrik now owns a Very Interesting necklace. Once in your hands you can see each of the three to five inch teeth are carefully and elaborately engraved with strange markings.

If any of you have anything interesting of important to do in the next 30 or so hours, please post it in the OOC thread.

[Shieldheart]

Aenshae observed the proceedings with distaste, declining to partake in any 'refreshments' at the 'establishment'. He was mildly curious about the dragon teeth the kender had and the trinket he acquired by a twist of luck. But that smidge of curiosity was not enough for him to pursue his company for longer.

After a while, he bade farewell to the group and hastily made way to his quarters. He had some preparations to make: this was likely to be a long and arduous journey and with companions who might...make things difficult. Besides, perhaps he would have an opportunity to unearth some useful arcane knowledge in Nordmaar. That was always a possibility.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Dawn, two days later, finds you (some sleepily) making your way to pier 21 in search of your transportation, the Clampherdown. The wind coming off the water is no warmer than it was days ago, but the rain has ceased, so it’s all far more bearable.

The Palanthian docks at morning are an amazing place – surging with sights and sounds and energy. Teeming thousands of merchants, porters, teamsters, stevedores, messengers, passengers and sailors mill around each other in absolute chaos that is somehow as well choreographed as some great performance. You pass a noble lady in a fine dress, a Solamnic knight with attendants, a gnome machinist with what appears to be a spring-powered wheelbarrow. And amongst the tumult you easily find signs leading you to the ship; a two-masted schooner of average size. Men and women scurry about busily moving cargo and supplies on board.

You ask an officer and are quickly shown to Captain McKinnon, a dark-skinned big bellied man with a shaved head and full beard. He looks less than happy to see you, and he scowls and orders a sailor to show you to a stateroom. A single stateroom. “That’s all the room I can spare. This isn’t a cheap trip, so count yourselves lucky your passage is already paid.”

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Following her morning prayers, Tarina gathers her things on the second dawn and heads into Palanthas. She is continuously amazed at the sights and sounds of the large city, as well as the smells of fresh baked goods and food cooking in houses and inns. She looks around Palanthas as she walks towards the docks. When Ardana left Tarina here, she was expecting....more. Not more city really, there was plenty of that...just more. Tarina felt unfulfilled since she arrived in Palanthas, further from Mishakal than ever before. This journey HAS to be the key. This is what She sent me here for. Someone needs my help. Or Her help. I know it.

Finally feeling more encouraged than she had in days, Tarina made her way down pier 21 and up the gangplank to meet Captain McKinnon. I wonder if Gravvik knows any happy people, she thought to herself after just a brief interaction.

"Maybe you could just show me where I'll be staying, and I'll be out of your way while you cast out...or get on the way, or whatever you sailors call it." She follows him to the cabin and thinks she may have misjudged the captain, with all the space he was giving her until she heard that it would be for everyone. "Umm. Everyone? Here? What about....what about, you know?" She looks around the stateroom in confusion for a moment. "Privacy" she finally squeaks out as the captain has already turned and moved on.

[Deathkeeper]

Ah, the docks. Some might find it all rather overwhelming. As a lad I probably did at some point, so I can hardly blame them. But me, I don't think it would be possible for me to be phased by any of it. Well, unless they were on fire or something. That would probably phase me.

Either way, the docks are familiar territory. The ship is familiar territory, even if I haven't been on this particular one before. And falling in line with the captain is familiar territory, which is why I immediately staked out my preferred wall and dropped my pack down on it.
"Thanks, Captain. Appreciate it. Let me know if you need another set of hands. I'm not one to stand idle on a voyage." I tell the man simply. I doubt he wouldn't be able to tell my former profession. The stereotype is accurate far more often than it isn't. But that's what happens when virtually your entire species lives on islands.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Captain McKinnon simply nods to Koshal's remarks. "Good." But when Tarina calls at his back, he turns around with impatience until he gets a bead on her demeanor and, probably more importantly, the necklace she wears. he grasps for words a moment before saying, "Sorry, lady." He looks back to Koshal. "Inform them of the ways of life at sea, eh? With favorable weather we should make Pentar in a week."

He returns to the many tasks that remain before leaving, and he appears eager to get moving. The "stateroom" is essentially a 10 by 15-foot room with Spartan but rugged accommodations for four - heavy chests, two sets of bunks, some spare hooks and netting on the walls to stow bags and such.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina looks at the cabin for a few moments, taking it all in. She watches Koshal settle in and then copies his actions of staking out real estate in the stateroom. I've slept in worse, she thought to herself. It's just like when dad took me camping...except there's a bed this time.

Tarina looks to Koshal. "This may surprise you, but I haven't traveled much. I'm not sure what's expected, but I want to help where I can. Just let me know what I can do.

[Majin]

Darrik spent the evening looking at his collection of trinkets and the night sleeping the sleep of the innocent.

In the morning he hurried to the ship, looking around with excitement. "Oh, I'd be glad to help too, don't hesitate to ask!" Darrik said to the captain, following Koshal's example.

Darrik takes a quick glance at their room. "This looks pretty comfy. Top bunk!" He exclaims and throws his bag on one of the beds.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The Clampherdown makes sail early in the morning, the sun shining off to port making the mists atop the bay glow white. A dozen other ships of various sizes and types join her on the water, the lifeblood of Ansalon’s sea trade.

Koshal describes the basics of the trade to his travel companions, mostly so those unfamiliar with life at sea can stay out of the sailors’ ways as they work or in case of danger. Much of their time is spent keeping busy in their confinement, but thankfully the rain has subsided and as Clampherdown moves slowly north along the coast the air warms. In the distance, the green plains and dark mountains recede and are replaced with drier land - sandstone villages huddled under great drooping palm trees.

On the third morning Clampherdown is brought to within a quarter-mile of land and the anchor is dropped. Sailors furl and clear rigging while boats are lowered bearing empty crates, items for sale or trade and empty water barrels. Four small boats away for land, led by the captain, and nine boats – a raggedy fleet of civilians hoping to trade with sailors on the ship directly. They shout and sing and hock their wares as they cozy up next to the hull and the crew lowers ropes and ladders. These people of the Northern Wastes are a mix of Solamnics and dark, ruddy folk of Estwilde. Their cloth is thick and layered, with long tunics and skirts lined with intricate, though not particularly bright, colors.

Amid the chaos one man in particular, middle-aged, bald, with a long aquiline nose, climbs the netting without a sale in mind. As he ascends he peers from one sailor to the next in frustration, passing a date merchant, a farmer trying to thrust a pair of chickens into waiting hands and a pair of women in revealing bodices cooing for attention. “Please,” he says as he reaches unsuccessfully for assistance onto the deck. “Please, I would like to speak with the captain. The captain?” The sailors simply wave him off, intent on their own preoccupations.

[Majin]

Darrik notices the old man and goes to see him. "Hiya! I could go and try to find the captain, but can I just ask what business you've got with him?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

Amid all the shouting and suddenly faced with a kender, the man nearly loses his grip and clutches furiously at the side of the ship. A sailor laughs at him and continues haggling with another man over the price of a bottle of liquor.

"I ... I need to request he take another passenger immediately!" His perch is precarious and he continues to search the deck with his eyes.

[Majin]

"Oh. Well I guess I'll go and see if I'll find him", Darrik says and goes to find the captain, informing him of the man if he finds him.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina pulls the Kender aside after he walks away from the rail. "Ummm, Darrik, I think the captain went ashore to sell some stuff. Who would be next in charge after him? He needs help. Maybe we should bring him up here to wait?

[Majin]

"Oh, that's right! I guess there's like a... first mate? I think", Darrik says and then looks to where the man is hanging on to the side of the side of the ship. "I guess someone should help him up?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

The two smiling women and a handsome young man are helped aboard and immediately shown below decks, while a happy sailor hoists up his two flapping chickens like a prize. He shrugs off the complaining man without concern. “Bah. Captain ain’t here. You shoulda stayed on land.”

Grimacing, the bald man kicks ineffectually at the hull and descends, his expression crestfallen. He joins others in their small boat and paddle back toward shore. Two hours later all the temporary visitors have left and the captain and crew are back aboard with fresh supplies. The anchor rises and off the ship goes eastward once more.

Five days of mild, uninterrupted sailing brings you along the lush coast of northern Nordmaar. Even this time of year the air is warm and humid, and full of strange exotic fragrances. Beyond the immediate beaches you see vast stretches of open plains to the southwest and an equally vast wall of dense forest unlike any you’ve ever imagined to the southeast. The Clampherdown approaches Pentar, and as you close it becomes a strange sight.

The small city is well-known as the most popular port for hundreds of miles, but you grow confused when you see the Floating Market. Dozens, no hundreds of ships of every sort fill an entire bay and are connected through a wildly complicated web of ropes, bridges, and planking. It’s a floating village ringed by the village proper, but many travelers never find it necessary to touch land at all –everything they need to do can be done in the Floating Market.

This is where you find yourselves, midafternoon, and Captain McKinnon tells you the Clampherdown is making sail for its return to Palanthas in three days.



Your mission is to find Robert of Dawn's Edge and the statuette called the Brass Cat.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)


"Okay. No problem. Robert. Dawn's Edge. He should be here somewhere. Mishakal will guide us."

Tarina looks around at the ships rafted together around the bay, and the town further away. She giggles a little to herself, then turns to her compatriots and says, "It should be easy to make it to town. As soon as they see we're travelling with Derrik, they'll probably provide a nice escort for us right through the market."

[Majin]

Darrik nods in agreement with Tarina's statement. "Yeah, it seems like guards are afraid kenders are going to get lost in a market place or something. I appreciate the courtesy, but I can find my way around well enough thank you very much".

He then mutters "Robert of Dawn's Edge"... and looks around. He then grabs the sleeve of a random passerby and says to them: "Hi! Do you know Robert of Dawn's Edge?"

[Deathkeeper]

I shrug, waving off the kender and his usual foolishness.
"If we mean to ask around for information, the most likely ones to ask will be the inns that he might have stayed at, and the guards he had to have passed to leave down if he didn't bother to stay at one. We don't have much information to go on besides basic logic."

[Gorgon_Heap]

The woman jerks away from Darrik in shock, but then answers in the negative when she realizes it's s serious question. She walks away in puzzlement, leaving you with your ideas of how to find Robert of Dawn's Edge: Faith, luck or logic.

You do have some of that information already besides his name. Gravvik also gave you Robert's description (handsome, good clothes, but tends to fall into the background), the sort of establishments he is likely to gravitate toward (the man is well-paid and likes his comforts), and you know what he was doing here and when.

Please provide your PC's ideas for, or description of, your search (if you have anything more you'd like to describe or discuss) and a Int: Investigation roll OR a Cha: Investigation roll. Choose one.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina examines the town from this distance once again. "Well, let's get this done and try and get back to Palanthas." While advancing from one ship to the next, Tarina studies the town, looking for a large inn which may look nicer than the others. She also looks around for anything else of interest...any temples which look like they should be investigated at some point in the next three days.

If she finds an upper crust inn, Tarina finds the innkeeper "Hi. I am Tarina, Priestess of Mishakal. I'm looking for someone who may be in trouble and staying around here. His name is Robert, of Dawnn's Edge. Have you seen him?" (Cha pursuasion) [roll0]

If she is unable to find the inn, or fails to find Robert at the inn, Tarina will look for a temple which worships an aspect of Mishakal or god of similar beliefs. She will go there and pray for guidance (A cantrip she should have chosen).

[Majin]

Darrik looks around with excitement. He stops to speak with other kenders, asking them about Robert of Dawn's Edge, describing how he looks.


Cha(Investigation): [roll0]

If Darrik sees anything interesting, his hands will try to pocket it. Perhaps other kenders' valuables.
Dex(Sleight of Hand): [roll1]

[Deathkeeper]

In this, I again decide to follow the priestess. The kender probably won't get himself arrested if he's left on his own. And if not, perhaps I can convince the rest to leave him behind.
But the world has hardened me against ever expecting such wonderful fantasies.
Is Cha:Investigate a thing? It isn't listed on the mythweavers sheet I'm using. I'll just roll with my raw Cha bonus. I don't think Persuade counts like it does in 3.P
[roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

Considering how much time you spend outdoors today, you’re glad the weather here is warmer, or at least not as rainy, as it was back in Solamnia. You spend the day walking about almost aimlessly, seeing what the waterborne town has to offer, speaking with random merchants, sailors, innkeepers and half-dozen wildly preoccupied keener who are nice enough people, but unfamiliar with the better establishments.

Koshal keeps the group on task while strangers generally warm to the young priestess quickly, though communication isn’t always easy. While many locals appear at first glance Solamnic, they are the minority. The dress is more comfortable to the tropical climate and customs strike you as odd – particularly the language; a rapid tongue-tying gibberish you can’t fathom even when you see it written down.

You make your way to three inns in the floating market but come up empty, and so eventually move to land for a late – inexpensive – dinner. The next day you begin again, with a list of three likely inns, but after the first frustrating day Koshal disregards two when you learn the Coatl’s Rest Inn is regarded as by far the nicest in town.

There are several horses waiting out front and a barn to the back of the large, three-story wooden building coated in a dull white paint. Several signs indicate its name clearly, and when you step through the front door a pair of boys rush forward from small benches to clean your footwear. There are a number of upper-class merchant and noble sorts having quiet conversations within. A middle-aged woman in a light blue thin-fabric, conservative dress steps forward without concern for your group’s strange makeup. She introduces herself as Ltelc (pronounced it l’tel’k!) and initially spurns your questions as inn policy prohibits sharing information about guests, but Tarina’s gentle imploring – and her holy symbol – have an effect. “Oh, my. Master Robert has been staying with us for years, and he last passed though nearly six weeks ago. It’s not like him to … Why are you looking for him, Revered Daughter? Is he safe?”

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina listens to Ltelc and feels relieved to hear they have found where he would stay in town. Thank you, Mishakal, for your quick response, she offered in short prayer.

"Well, Lady Ul-tel-kuh, we're not really sure." She looks to her companions for help, not really sure how much to say...not that they knew much. "He was supposed to meet a friend of ours over a week ago and never showed up. He didn't say where he was going last time he left did he?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

"Oh, it's Miss Ltelc, please," the woman says. "Won't you please come in and have a meal, or some drinks at least." At Tarina's next question she becomes more subdued. "Oh, dear. No. No, I'm afraid he never told me anything about his comings and goings." She nonetheless indicates a table is ready for you.


Her eyes show genuine concern for the man, but her back straightens and she appears adamant about the importance of house rules.

[Deathkeeper]

I sit down gingerly at the table, trying my best not to break anything. It's rare, but sometimes chairs made for humans simply aren't built to withstand over three hundred pounds. I'm at least proud that when it does happen it's from muscle and armor, at least.
"Please, Miss Ltelc, did he say anything about meeting someone? Or maybe he was packing a heavy load, like for a long trip? Or at least which gate he might have passed through, so we could ask the guards? As far as I know, we're the only ones looking for this man. If trouble's the reason he's missed his appointment, we're the only rescue he might have coming." I tell her gently.
Roll for persuade: [roll0]

[Majin]

Darrik hops on a chair, waiting for drinks to arrive, listening to miss Ltelc's answers.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Hearing Koshal's careful wording, the woman seems to suck on the inside of her own lips for a long moment while scrutinizing each of you. Whatever she sees, she seems to make a decision, but she refuses to say anything until you have yourselves a fine midday meal.

An hour later you've enjoyed a remarkable, light repast. Some strange bird in a bittersweet orange glaze with a side of sweet potatoes paired with a small glass of riesling - itself somehow a bit loamy and citrusy. This is far better eating than any of you are accustomed to, though Koshal certainly feels the bird is far too small. (Still, it is just lunch.)

Miss Ltelc calmly and endearingly asks if you enjoyed the meal, and as you settle payment she quietly explains that Robert never talks about the details of his business, but often receives packages or messages at the desk when he's a guest. "Always the same man makes the delivery. On the small side - perhaps my height - long blond hair, beard. He never says more than he has to, and he gives me an uneasy feeling, though he's never caused trouble. He seems to fancy rings. I'm sorry I don't know any more. I do hope Master Robert is well. He's been such a good customer."



Between wherever you stayed last night and this fabulous lunch, you have spent 4 steel all together.

At some point while perusing your ever-present belt sack you realize you can't find that dragon scale - but you do now possess a small glass bell that tinkles lightly as you examine it.

[Majin]

"This stuff's delicious, Miss L", Darrik says as he eats. "Even the finest cells in Palanthas don't have anything as tasty!"

After the lunch, Darrik starts going through his pockets, checking if anything interesting appeared. He felt something was missing, but forgot it as he noticed a neat new glass bell. He put it back into his pouch, packing it carefully.

"Don't worry miss, I'm sure we'll find him lickety–split".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina listens to Ltelc's information, nodding thoughtfully. "Thank you, Miss Ltelc. We appreciate what you've been able to give us." She waits a few minutes until Ltelc has departed then turns to her group. "Fancies rings? What do you suppose that means? Could we track him down by that? There must be some merchants around who could tell us if they have sold a lot of rings...." She trails off as she says the words, knowing that won't possibly be a good place to start.

"What about him maybe being a little seedy? Do you think there's a broker...or a...money-lender...I don't know what to call them, who may know Robert's contact?"

[Deathkeeper]

I shake my head.
"Rings aren't something you buy in bulk. You get them one by one, over the years. They're a rather defining feature, at least, if we could only figure out which business he's in to ask around in. A choice like that, not something you're going to be hiding, which clearly he doesn't." I suggest.

[Majin]

"Maybe we could try asking the regulars first, if they've seen a blonde man with many rings? They might have heard something interesting, at least", Darrik says. "I assume you have some regular drinkers here, miss L?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

The corner of her mouth tugging into an infinitely small frown, Miss Ltelc says, "Oh of course, young sir. But this gentleman only delivers packages, only very rarely, and is hardly the sort my respected clientele would consort with regularly." She seems to choose her next words with extreme delicacy. "I take him for a more common-cloth sort. I take from his demeanor and dress that what little money he has he does not spend on traveling widely or worthy charitable causes."

At this point she thanks you all again and asks a boy to see you politely out as she returns to directing her staff and seeing personally to wealthy guests.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina walks to the entrance of the inn, where she stands and contemplates the town for a few moments. She turns to her companions and asks, "So what now? She thinks he is an unfortunate man, not well off. Should we check the temple shelters and soup kitchens?"

Her head swivels, looking to see if there is a temple within view of the inn where she could start.

Perception [roll0] or

Investigation: [roll1] if needed

[Majin]

"That sounds like a good place to start. Maybe we should also look for some criminals, the ring guy sounded a bit crookish. Though we do have to be careful they don't stab us take our money. Blood loss always makes me woozy", Darrik says cheerily.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina is still looking to see if she can find a temple from her vantage point when Darrik speaks up and she nods her head in agreement with what he is saying, until it finally sinks in. "Oh, they wouldn't. Would they? No. If we're just going to look for Robert's friend, they wouldn't do anything like that. We're trying to help. She looks around at the others, a little less confident than she was feeling when she walked out.

She finally works up the nerve and steps off the ledge of the porch, and begins looking for a temple which may be a congregating spot for the poor.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Though she certainly sees no literal signs to any nearby temples, Tarina asks kindly passersby and learns there's no "temple row" in Pentar. But there are a number of temples, though she has to take what she's told with a grain of salt, sometimes cross-referencing what any two or three people tell her. The local culture strangely seems to extent to religion, as she's told of a number of deities she's never heard of. Among the Floating Market are popular shrine to The Darkling Sea, Zeboim; and a boat/temple to her nemesis Habbakuk.

There are also, she's told, temples dedicated to Shinare and Mishakal in the city proper. Obviously she knows where the poor and dispirited would will find succor.

[Deathkeeper]

I do my best to give Tarina a reassuring smile. I'm not really sure how it goes. The muzzle tends to interfere with how humans see normal facial expressions.
"Relax, Miss Davenledge. I doubt any individual would bother us with me at your back. And if they do, well, they're none too bright." I tell her. "So, let's get along then."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina looks at the minotaur. "Thank you, Koval," she says with obvious relief. "I would like to start at the temple. If we need to go see the...criminals...after, then so be it. Everyone deserves forgiveness, and maybe we can help with that."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Pentar is a busy little trade city, and it seems there is plenty of day-work for the unskilled laborer. But there are still those with disabilities, the young and the old, and occasionally the mentally ill, who have no options but to beg for help. And these folk are always welcome at the temple of Mishakal – even if there is little to share.

The temple in Pentar is, like most of its buildings, largely built of local wood and painted in unusual shades that, from a distance, one can imagine makes parts of the town look like a lovely sunrise. The unusual architecture is still strange even when you hear people speak Solamnic, which is rare. The double-wide front door stands open and within is a huge – and hugely empty – sanctuary. Unlike temples in the west, this building mostly features several large wood and stone carvings around a pewless central area. Here a blue-hooded acolyte sit with a number of children, locked in a simple reading lesson. A tall tan-skinned, hawk-nosed man of about 40 observes you enter with some concern, and tells the children to continue with some lettered blocks before approaching with quiet dignity. His hair is mussed and dark under the hood of his robe, which you note is of a thin local cloth and cut, and his anxious eyes bounce from the minotaur to the kender before finally settling on the young woman. His voice is strained. “Good day, sister. Welcome. Do you need help?”

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina, much relieved by being in somewhat familiar territory, felt more relaxed in the presence of her god. "Good morning, brother. Well met. I'm afraid we are indeed in need of help. Just a few questions. We are searching for someone. Robert of Dawn's Edge. He is a friend of a friend, actually. He may be missing. I was hoping someone here may know of him, or maybe someone may help nudge us in the right to look for a missing person." She suddenly realizes she is rambling, and pauses to wait for answers while she collects her thoughts.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The acolyte breathes a sigh of relief himself, but still warily eyes Tarina's companions. The children sit in silence, staring at the towering bull-man, though not in fright. "I'm sorry, I've never heard of this person. The missing of Pentar generally are lost sailors or lost in the forest. If he traveled inland, you should speak to some of the caravaners or the teamster's guild. If he's a sailor, he may be just a drop in the ocean, I'm afraid."

[Majin]

"Well, I guess in that case we should just go find those caravaners, they might probably have a lot of interesting items... Anyway, he must have travelled by sea, so some sailors might recognize him", Darrik says.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina listens with interest at the information provided by the acolyte. "One more question, if you can spare the time. Ser Robert has been seen in the company of a...seedy man. Blonde hair, wears lots of rings on his hands. Does that sound familiar at all?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

"I ..." the acolyte pauses for a long moment. "What sort of person is your friend Robert? Because that sounds like Tomas Twentyfingers. He's a loan shark and all-around criminal. I know because he keeps convincing novice thieves to try to steal temple artifacts.

"If that's the sort of character this Robert spends his time with, maybe you should reconsider all the effort your making."

The children are now whispering and giggling to each other.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

"I...please.." Tarina begins, "We think Ser Robert may be in trouble. He is missing. This Tomas may be our only chance of finding him. Where might we look?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

"I'm sorry. Criminals know where temples are; but the holy orders - at least those of Mixactli - don't know where to find criminals."

He returns to the now rambunctious children and returns to his lesson.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina turns to her companions with a determined look on her face. "Tomas. At least we have a name now. Let's see if we can find this Tomas."

She starts back out of the tempe after offering Mishakal her thanks. Once outside she pauses and asks aloud to nobody in particular, "What do you think Twentyfingers means?"

[Deathkeeper]

I shrug. "It's likely a moniker he got from some story. Either that, or he has some bizarre mutation to make it a literal nickname. I do hope that's not the case." I say with a chuckle. "It would be kind of interesting, to see a man with four hands" is what I'm sure the kender is thinking. Not that I'd really disagree in this case.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

"Well, I certainly hope it is the former. Any ideas how to find some criminals?" she asks, unconsciously looking toward Derrik as she does.

[Majin]

"Hmm, if you had twenty fingers, it sure would make counting stuff easier", Darrik muses.

"Now where would we find criminals? I don't hang out with that sort of people, but I have bumped into some of them in interesting places. Maybe we should find an inn? I mean not like the one we were in before, it was nice but kind of boring. I'm talking about one with interesting people and lively atmoshphere".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina nods her head while she listens to Darrik's idea. "I can't think of anything better, unless they have some sort of constabulary who might know where he hangs out. Let's start with an inn or two and then find a peacekeeper if we need to."

Investigation: [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

You make plenty of headway by the simple expedient of walking into the lowest-class inns and taverns you can find and ask everybody you see if they know where you can find Tomas Twentyfingers. Most folks don't know what you're talking about. Some give you dirty looks. Others react as if you are about to rob them on the spot and quickly make for the exits.

Two hours, three inns and five taverns later, you walk back into the afternoon sunshine from some reeking hole Tarina hopes to never see the likes of again, and a uniformed man with a spear is waiting. His armor is typical for what you've seen around here - a light metal lamellar over long a green tunic and a navy blue cloth around his waist. He scowls at the three of you from under his helmet. "Afternoon. I'm with the city watch. I've heard from a number of concerned citizens you three are asking all over town for a known criminal. Who are you and what is your business in Pentar? And what do you want with the likes of Tomas Twentyfingers?"

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina smiles vibrantly at the constable. "Oh, praise Mishakal, I'm glad you found us. We were about to come find one of you anyway. We think Mr....uhm...Twentyfingers knows someone we are looking for. A Ser Robert of Dawn's Edge."

She looks hopefully at the watchman, waiting to hear where Tomas may be found.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The guard's scowl deepens into an impatient grimace. He casts a quick look to his right, where you now see two more guards standing at the ready not twenty feet away. His hands tighten on his spear and he nervously takes Koshal's measure while keeping his focus on Tarina and Darrik. "I asked you who you are and your purpose in Pentar, and you ask questions of your own? I can't guess why scum like Twentyfingers would know a knight, but you better be very clear about your answers or we'll have to escort you out the gates."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina pauses a moment, a little taken aback by the aggressive manner of the guard. She collects her thoughts and says, "I'm sorry. I'm Tarina Davenledge, cleric of Mishakal. These are my traveling companions. She pauses to let each person introduce themselves. "A mutual friend asked us to find Ser Robert, as he has been missing for a couple of weeks. We were told that he had been seen with this Tomas person. We truly just want to find our friend's friend and then we'll be going home."

She unconsciously shuffles a little closer to Koshal, seeking the sensation of safety near the minotaur.

[Majin]

"And I'm Darrik Proudfoot, umm... I don't really have a title", Darrik helpfully adds. "Yeah, we're looking for Robert of Dawnsedge, and that ring-guy seems to a lead. He doesn't seem to be that known though, since we haven't been able to find him yet. Could you help us Mr. guard? If we find Robert, we'll be out of your hair that much sooner"

[Deathkeeper]

I take a bit of pleasure in reciting my name, mostly because there's no way in the Abyss that some random guardsman even knows what it means, let alone recognize it. Still, I suppose it's a valid question to ask. "We're on official business from a dwarf in Palanthas to find his missing messenger. If one of your force or anyone else by the gates has seen him, I'd much rather ask them questions than the scum, but he's the only lead we've found. Izze wanted for anything that might explain the guy's disappearance? That would make this whole thing so much easier for everyone involved. Well, except him."

Roll diplomacy [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

The guard listens to each of you with intense suspicion, not appearing anything like satisfied until you've all spoken, and he seems quite content with the details you furnish. He chits out some of that rapid gibberish loud enough for the other guards to hear, then addresses you all conspiratorially. "Yeah?" he says inching closer, his back to most of the street. "I might can help. Twentyfingers is a right bastard." He's gently rubbing a thumb and forefinger together.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina listens as Koval eloquently explains the situation, and wishes she could be as good with people as he was. She is somewhat relieved when the guard finishes speaking, and now even wants to help them.

As she is watching him talk, she notices his hand for the first time, moving with some sort of nervous disorder. "Oh, can I help with that?" She reaches out and cups his hand between hers with the symbol of Mishakal between their hands. As Tarina prays over their hands, her holy symbol glows blue momentarily.

"I'm sorry, it's not much, but it may help."

Cast Healing Word [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

The guard jerks in surprise and gawps as Tarina calls upon the power of her goddess to heal the man. The holy light of her symbol dims and he stands motionless, comic befuddlement on his face. He looks at Darrik and Koshal, blinking in uncertainty. He looks at his fellow guards, who also appear stunned into stupefaction.

“Eh,” he says numbly. “That’s … yeah.” He stares at her for a long moment, his brow heavy with concentration, and he shakes his head and points off to his left. “Fine. I saw him gambling at the Briney Red Tavern not an hour ago. Out thataway on the water.” He shakes his head again, disappointed, and joins the other guards for an animated discussion in their native tongue.

The Briney Red is easy to find, but it’s a boat converted into a tavern, while you are in town, so it takes some time to get there …

[Majin]

As they make their way towards the Briney Red, Darrik says: "You know, I really thought that man wanted money. I guess his hand was just hurt. Go figure. Anyway, a tavern on a boat sounds interesting. I bet there are a lot of sailors there, what do you think Koshal?" Darrik continues chattering, without waiting for an answer. "I wonder if people get seasick when visiting the place. Well people often get sick when visiting bars anyway. Hey Tari, do a lot of people come to the temple asking for a hangover cure?".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina giggles at Derrik's joke. "Using a god's power for a hangover cure? That's cute, Darrik. No, people wouldn't...do...uhmm..." she trails off as she suddenly remembered old Harvon who came to the temple several times per week. He suffered from incurable headaches, he had told her...he woke with them every morning.

Tarina walked in silent thought as the team moved toward the Briney Red.

[Deathkeeper]

I shake my head.
"He almost certainly wanted money, but don't worry about him. I think he didn't really know how to respond to charity. And unfortunately, ma'am, you'll be surprised what pettiness men can be driven to. I wouldn't pay it any mind." I say with a hearty laugh, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder with a hairy hand.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Finding one boat among the Floating Market is surprisingly easy, especially when it’s a tethered long-term landmark rather than a transient ship like most. The Briney Red Tavern was once a wide, round-bottomed trawler. Even before it was hollowed out and converted into a slowly-rolling drinking establishment, it’s pretty clear it was never meant to travel far from shore. Today it’s lashed and roped to several other nearby hulks and platforms, making for as permanent a spot as you’re likely to find.

You climb the well-worn rope bridge to the deck, a mere two yards above the waterline, and find a perhaps a dozen people in various states of deconstruction; mostly working-class types, judging by their worn attire and overall brusqueness. They stand around tables made of old crates. A middle-aged woman rapidly refills mugs and steps down a broad staircase when the bottle runs dry. Koshal gets some impressively unpleasant looks from this crowd, and though you hear some hateful comments, or in some cases native words in a hateful tone, they’re an unarmed, sorry lot not drunk enough to challenge an armed minotaur. Downstairs is surprisingly well lit by lamps and widened portholes. Real tables fill the single large room, and there’s a several women and boys going about, serving drinks and cleaning up – the room smells of burning pipeweed and alcohol – they don’t seem to serve proper food. An attractive kender woman, dressed in revealing native cloth, lightly beats out an unusual halting staccato on a pair of small drums while singing a wordless dissonance.

The tables are well-attended for late afternoon. Some are just as slovenly as those above deck, but others are more intent on gaming than drinking, and there are games of chance – dice and cards – at most of the tables. In fact, back and to the left is a particularly studious group, three men and a pair of dwarves smiling and glaring at each other in tense competition over cards and small piles of silver and steel coins. Drinks sit largely forgotten. And a man in a fine short-sleeved tunic and vest, with long blond hair in a ponytail and card-hands bristling with two rings at least per digit, is among them.

You are keenly aware that as a group you do not go unnoticed in any room you enter.

[Majin]

Darrik takes in the lively atmosphere of the bar, running his gaze over the room. His eyes linger on the kender woman for a while, then move on to the man with many rings. He pokes Koshal on the knee with his elbow and whispers. "Hey, don't stare, but the ring guy's here. And he really has a lot of rings. Some of them seem pretty neat..." Darrik shakes his head and continues. "Anyway, should we wait until he leaves question him outside, or just go up to him?"

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina looks around at the crows and momentarily feels overwhelmed. The warmth of her holy symbol against her chest recenters her after mere moments. "Let's get this over with," she says to the others. "Koshal, what do you think about talking to this guy? I'll, uhm...watch your back."

[Deathkeeper]

Ah, the common man.
Never is there such a predictable and simple specimen set than the inside of a seedy bar.
First: the smell. Unmistakable, really. Booze and sweat. Somehow it was worse than the place in Palanthas, which was dedicated to serving only sweaty working folk.
Second: someone will get uppity about there being a proper bull in the room. Around the fourth or fifth of the inevitable comment will be some sort of cow joke. Those not bound into the honor of a god may wish to take note of the speaker, for concussive facial reconstruction at a later time.
Third: the fact that the reason you're there is never the booze or the girls that the rest are there for. After all, if you wanted to get drunk you'd have picked a place where you're likely not to have stabbed.

In my case, a rather nasty little man. Why is it always dwarves?
"The way I see it, I go in and give this a shot, and you back me up if things go wrong, keeping your distance.
Or...we pretend I'm your big stupid battering ram (or bull) and you do the talking, and I'll catch them by surprise if they try anything."
Playing to their racism is always fun.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sharp-eyed, you note most of the gamblers present are only interested in their games (and boy, is that kender woman pretty!), but one native Nordman, with long, braided hair and brilliantly-colored sort of pancho/tunic watches you all with nervous intensity. And one of the wait staff, the woman, keeps moving along, smiling at customers and ignoring pats on the behind, but she clearly looks from you along your line of sight to Twentyfingers. She begins to wend her way in his direction.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina listens to Koshal and nods her head. "Okay, let's give this a try then. Follow me." As she bolsters her courage, she thinks to herself, I mean, what's the worst that could happen? They all jump us and throw us in the water? "Ready, Darrik?"

Tarina takes a small breath in and walks across the floor to where Tomas is playing. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I'm gonna die half-way around the world from...what is that awful smell? Mishakal help us... As she approaches the table, she looks at Tomas and his compatriots a moment. "Mr. Twentyfingers? I'm looking for a friend....of a friend." She glances at Koshal and Darrik for reassurance before continuing. "Ser Robert. I think you may know him? Had business with him?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

You walk through the crowded room with a purpose, and the waitress brushes past Twentyfingers, saying something brief just moments before you get there. His head instantly snaps in your direction and his hands rapidly scoop up coins and stuff them into his vest, causing others at the table to curse angrily at him. "Hey, the hand ain't over yet!"

Ignoring them, the blond man stands and looks you all over with a keen eye. "Oh, yes? Ser Robert, eh? Yeah, good ol' Robert." he suddenly looks frightened. "Gents!" he shouts, and with cartoonish gesticulations turns and takes a flying dive out the nearest porthole. Splash.

And while you're staring, three men from around the room likewise spring into action. One stoppers a large bottle and takes a very awkward swing harmlessly through Darrik's topknot. Another steps up between Tarina and the table, laying a big meaty hand on her shoulder menacingly. "You just stand there, girl," he slurs. The last man stands, mulls over his chances, and then grasps the nearest chair back and hefts it, swinging it widely toward Koshal.

Initiative order isn't really important here. Please just post as soon as you can and the actions will work themselves out. It should in no way be necessary to work out a combat map for this.

[Fishybugs]

"Girl? GIRL? I'll have you know I'm a cleric of Mishakal, Tarina says indignantly as she shows him her glowing holy symbol. Please, Mishakal, help us through this and home safely into your loving house.

Cast bless on the three of us. +d4 to all attacks and saves for one minute.

[Majin]

"Whoa!" Darrik exclaims as the man swings at him. "You need to calm down!"

Darrik draws his sword and swings at the man who attacked him, aiming for his kneecaps.
Attack: [roll0] + bless: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2] nonlethal

[Deathkeeper]

Blasted kender. Can't even do what he's good for.
"Darrik! Chase please!" I roar simply, taking the club strapped to my bag. Not really a club, but I don't really need to go into the details of sailor's equipment at the moment. A knock on the head should send the idiots sprawling.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Gorgon_Heap]

The big-bellied, balding man growls as Tarina sticks her small medallion in his face, and there's a sudden loud snap as Darrik whacks the side of his attacker's knee with the flat of his blade. The man must have some worn out old bones because he cants to one side and shrieks in agony, collapsing in a wheezing heap.

The bald man sees his friend go down and shouts, "Whoa, hey!" He's unable to reach the kender though, as Tarina is directly in his path. He brushes her arm aside and takes a mighty swing, landing his meaty fist in her face with a wet smack. Her head snaps back, pain and stars exploding in her mind. Tears and blood flow and she staggers back several steps, bouncing off Koshal's broad chest. The bald man furiously reaches for the kender.

Koshal ignores the slight weight of the young woman and the slowly descending chair as he thrusts his club straight out and into his attacker's temple. His eyes roll up as he drops the chair, and he then follows to the floor.

You are all vaguely aware of shouts and roars of encouragement and a few bets being placed. Also, the drums suddenly produce a loud adventurous beat.


Attackers 1 is down screaming about this leg.

Attacker 2 is reaching for Darrik.

Attacker 3 is unconscious.

Tarina takes 1 nonlethal and is Stunned for one round.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

"Owww!" Tarina reaches up to her nose, her eyes watering. She had sparred with the temple guards, but none of them had really hit her that hard. Wow, she thought, looking around in a daze, You really do see stars when you get hit like that. She reaches out to try and move the stars out of the way so she can see her friends better.

[Majin]

"Oh, right. On it!" Darrik says to Koshal and sprints after Twentyfingers.

Darrik Disengages from the bald man if needed. Then he jumps through the porthole, going after Twentyfingers.

[Gorgon_Heap]

With Tarina out of his way, the bald man gets a grip on Darrik's shirt, but the kender twists away and around one of the gaping card playing dwarves. He dashes around the table and hops up pulls himself clumsily onto the porthole sill, his sword still in hand, and sees Twentyfingers about four yards away, halfway to a floating fishing platform. Darrik leaps into the water (say, it's really quite comfortably warm!) and begins swimming after, realizing he's catching up with the man with surprising speed.

Twentyfingers clutches the damp wood of the platform breathlessly and yanks himself upward, only for his palm to slip. His cheek thonks off the plank and he very clearly says, "Gerp!" as he sags back into the water.

Darrik is only a few feet away as the human slashes halfheartedly to suck in another breath.

[Deathkeeper]

I brandish the pin in both hands, glowering darkly at the bald man and supporting Tarina.
"Now you've gone and hit a lady. A holy lady. A holy lady specifically dedicated to my god's mother.
I'd suggest you apologize and get out of here right now, 'fore I crack your skull like a maul does to a raw egg." I mutter in low tones.
Rolling intimidate [roll0]

[Fishybugs]

Tarina looks around, her head still spinning. "Why thank you, Koshal. That's very sweet." She wobbles a little and looks past the bald opponent. "Do you hear chickens? I hear chickens."

[Majin]

Swimming in full clothing with a sword in one hand wasn't as hard Darrik would have thought, had he given it any thought. At least he was doing better than the man.

"Hey, that was pretty fun", Darrik says to Twentyfingers, while trying to prevent seawater from getting into his mouth. "I like jumping through windows too. And from high places. But we really just want to talk".

Darrik also tries to climb the platform.

So, athletics check? [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

Baldy trips a step as Darrik runs off, and he's not nimble enough to get around the spectators. He looks back at the dazed young holy woman and towering, angry minotaur, at the dozens of people standing around shouting mocking encouragement at him, and down at his broken friends.

He sneers angrily at Koshal, suffering a massive loss of dignity. "Eh, we only gots paid to slow people down, anyway." Money starts changing hands and many are the groans of disappointment. The two wounded men are dragged off to the side, where Baldy and the barmaid tend to their wounds.

(Gah! - Majin Ninja'd me)

Twentyfingers gasps and spits, and reaches for the plank again. He drags himself closer and pulls himself up on his chest, and swings one arm wide, catching Darrik just as he was likewise climbing up. Having no purchase and weighing so very little even dripping wet, the kender is flung back into the water. The human laughs and slides soggily up the decking and onto his feet, and staggers away.

Darrik takes 1 nonlethal, but you retain a hold of your sword.

[Majin]

Darrik Proudfoot, HP: 11/12 AC: 14, PPerception: 15

"Glb!" Darrik exclaims as he falls into water. He swims back up and spits the water out of his mouth. "Darn". Darrik then puts his sword away and tries climbing again.

And once more, athletics: [roll0]

Okay, so no.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The human scoundrel is getting away, padding across bobbing plank walkways and making for a number of large trawlers all tied and netted together like an apartment building made of boats and spiderweb.

Splashing about awkwardly, Darrik stabs his sword back into place and gives it another try, getting his small fingers between planks and hauling himself up. As he stands he reaches for his sword again, but finds it missing. A long, deep cut in his leather cuirass right where his sword belt used to be is evidence of the mistake: Rather than just sliding the sword home, he'd simply cut the whole thing free and dropped his sword in the bay.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Starting to finally collect her wits, Tarina says to Koshal, "Let's go get him. Darrik may need help." She looks at the porthole the two men recently defenestrated themselves through, shakes her head, then runs out the door and around the boats towards where the floating island should be.

Pretty much what the spoiler said....dash, dash for my action.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Tarina rushes outside and turns right onto the maze of wobbly boardwalks, most of which bear rope railings. Across thirty yards of open water she sees Darrik patting himself curiously. But directly ahead is a huge mass of at least a dozen boats permanently grafted together. And jogging toward them perpendicular to her own course forty yards away is a wet blond man. He sees Tarina and thrusts out a rude gesture, laughing.

The only clear path is to Tarina's left, and she takes it, running carefully, avoiding wet spots and sailors and load-carrying merchants along the way.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina continues running, trying to catch up with the ruffian. She is surprised to find she isn't even out of breath.

Longstrider is very useful for traveling, Tarina, she recalls her mentor, Ardana, telling her.

But it's not fun, she would always respond. If it's not fun, and it doesn't help someone, how can it be worth tying up my magical resources?

It has plenty of other uses as well. Mishakal doesn't grants us useless abilities. Someday you'll see the benefit of the assets She bestows.


Oh how she hated it when Ardana was right, but she'll push on and show her...

Dash again. Action surge would be nice right now...

[Deathkeeper]

I sprint after Tarina. Oh, he'd like to laugh at us, does he? We'll see how he likes laughing when there's a javelin in his leg. I just need to get a bit closer.
Really not sure what else to add here. Should I roll Athletics? Pretty sure using the Sailor background gave me sailing proficiency. And chance it'd help on navigating a dock? :smalltongue:

[Majin]

Darrik glances at the water and then towards the running man. He starts moving towards him drawing his bow and sends an arrow towards him as a warning. "I might aim next time!" Darrik shouts.

Darrik moves towards Twentyfingers, and shoots an arrow as warning, not attempting to hit him.
Intimidate, perhaps? [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

With much more momentum than she expected, Tarina barrels down the bouncy dock and leaps off the end, her heavy armor propelling her farther and faster than actually necessary. She lands on the nearest boat and crashes into the pilothouse hard enough to rattle clanking items off the wall and elicit a muffled shout of surprise from within. Her shoulder aches and her head spins as the pain from that punch rises again. Now she is out of breath, but she's on her feet.

Twentyfingers grips a railing, hauling himself onto the boat, and sprints for a bunch of netting to - obviously looking to lose himself in the massive, confusing structure. An arrow sails into the wall in front of him and he runs right into it, snapping it. "Gah!" he shouts as he's brought to a stop. He pauses just long enough to throw the broken arrow to the side when a javelin slices into his leg. "GAH!" His shouts attract Tarina, who recovers her breath and is standing only twenty feet away. The scoundrel looks about, sees adventurers at every turn, and freezes in indecision. He clenches his teeth and draws a knife as his other hand stanches the flow of blood from his leg.



Init: Koshal, Tarina, Twentyfingers, Darrik

Take your actions please.

[Majin]

Darrik shakes his head as Twentyfingers pulls out a knife. "Okay, so violence then". He looses another arrow towards the crook, hoping he doesn't hit him too lethally.

Darrik obviously doesn't attack if Koshal and Tarina manage to take Twentyfingers down before his turn.

Attack: [roll0]
[roll1]

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina looks toward the running man and yells, "STOP! We just have a question about Robert!" She takes just a moment to catch her breath, then starts moving toward the man as quickly as she can muster.

[Deathkeeper]

"Indeed. Perhaps if we get our answers one of us would heal that wound. It would be a shame for you to pass out in shock, for the guards or the Abyss to find you." I say slowly as I approach the man, hand readying to draw the hammer at my belt.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The man takes stock of each of you and considers his options, then springs up, taking his hand off his leg and yanking on the netting at his back.

Darrik's arrow plunges directly into the small cut, and Twentyfingers freezes, turning to look at the weapon protruding from his thigh in astonished horror. He cries out lowly and sags on his wounded leg, dropping the knife and babying the limb, sweat on his brow.

You approach and surround him closely, standing over him to compete the quick victory. He's breathing heavily. "Oooowwwwww. WHAT? If you're friends of Robert's what can you possibly need from me? I didn't even know he was a knight!" he seethes.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

"Well he is. So there. We're just looking for him, so anything you may know will really, really help us." She pauses a moment to wait for a response, then a realization hits her. "If you don't know anything, then why did you run after we told you what we wanted?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

Staring at her as if she's an alien, the man says, "In my experience nobody looking like a band of thugs comes calling for a good reason - especially not asking after somebody you had ... er, recent dealings with and left ... unsatisfied." He takes a breath against the pain and mutters something incomprehensible in the native tongue and shakes his head. "But then it looks like I was being lied to the whole time. He's a knight of some kind. Makes sense, the way he spends money. And here you are carrying holy symbols. You're not from the Steel Legion, eh? You and he sure ain't Solamnics.

"I swear it was just business and nobody came to harm. Why, I told Robert it was a done deal and he went running off after the damned thing anyway. What do knights need a sculpture so bad for anyway? Ain't he got enough?""

By this time a Nordman is leaning out of the pilothouse chittering at you all in an affronted tone.

[Majin]

"Kinda funny that a knight was lying. Anyway, where did Robert run off to?" Darrik says.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina Davenledge (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639580)

Tarina leans over to Koshal and asks, a bit indignantly, "Do I really have to heal him? His friend punched me in the face." She reaches up and feels her cheek and nose, which are still tender. "Is it straight?" She keeps prodding at her nose as she turns to Twentyfingers and asks, "Where did you send him to? We need to find him before he gets hurt."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Blinking rapidly in confusion, the man doesn’t seem sure what you meant. “Hurt? What are you talking about, woman? I’m bleeding here are you’re worried about that lazy weasel? I thought you said you know him. Robert’s lazy. He doesn’t do anything dangerous. Is somebody else after him? … Is there a reward?”

He seems to notice the angry houseboat resident and says something back to the man. They exchange words for a minute and the man steps away from his window.

“I’ll tell ya; he threw a tantrum and ran after the Cat in the capital. North Keep. Haven’t seen him since.”

Koshal and Darrik have either traveled or been looking at maps all their lives, and they are both certain North Keep is nowhere near your current location - it's far inland.

You also become aware a number of patrons from the tavern , curious how the fight ended and what it was all about, are walking down the boardwalk, talking amongst themselves excitedly. The two gambling dwarves, the kender musician and nearly a dozen human men (and the barmaid) are about forty yards away and closing. Unsurprisingly, fifteen or twenty other passersby on the docks, on their ships or in their homes are watching out of interest or boredom as well.

[Deathkeeper]

I shrug back at Tarina.
"No, you don't have to heal him. Actually, given that the guards called him a known criminal, it would make far more sense to just haul him to them and drop him off at his proper steel-barred home. His information doesn't seem particularly helpful, after all. It's certainly going to be a long walk without any leads if that's all he has to say." I say with a shrug.

Roll intimidate? [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

The man narrows his eyes at Koshal, but seems unfazed by the threat. The owner of the boathouse rushes outside and onto the dock, passing through the watching crowd in a rush.

"Yeah, that's not gonna work, bully. if you're done trying to kill me - or not killing me - then you ought to just get out of town. I'll tell you; An art dealer from a shop called Chinda's Collectibles paid top coin. That's where Robert would be going." He shrugs painfully. "There. You fix this now, healer?"

[Majin]

Darrik eyes the crook a bit suspiciously. He'd probably have no reason to lie, but you never know with thieves.

Insight to see if he's talking the truth: [roll0]

[Fishybugs]

Tarina looks to Koshal, then to Darrik. She leans over and whispers, "I've never actually healed a wound with the weapon still in it. Do I pull it out first, then heal, or heal as I'm pulling it out?" She then realizes she isn't speaking to anyone who may have more information on the subject than she does and decides to fake it.

She leans down to Tomas and says in her most compassionate, reassuring voice, "Thank you. See? We told you we just needed some information. When someone wants to ask a question, it's easier to not get shot first." As she is speaking, she slowly moves her hand to the arrow shaft protruding from Tomas' leg. "This won't hurt too much. Probably." She suddenly pulls violently on the arrow.

[roll0]

Her hand slips off the arrow from the nervous sweat on her palms but otherwise nothing happens, except Tomas seems to be complaining a little louder.

"Umm. Ooops. Umm. Tarina lets out a nervous giggle. "Let's try again. Koshal, can you pull that out please?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

Not only do you guess he's not lying, you think he's both relieved and smug at having given you the news.

Tomas squirms in pain. "What in the Abyss? Don't you know what you're doing? I always wondered how worthless those trinket medallions actually are." He goes quiet as if struck with an epiphany, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

[Deathkeeper]

I heave a heavy sigh before putting a hand around the arrow.
"Gods, Miss. You didn't learn any better way to do this? If pulling's what you want..." I say...
Are we sure this couldn't be done with a Medicine check? Not that Koshal has that. Also, going to assume I can add Proficiency on strength checks. Subtract two if I'm not.
[roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

"Hurk!" the man says through grinding teeth. he slumps back against the pilothouse, breathing easier while looking at you all hatefully. Then he peers past you into the crowd, where now about twenty people mill about and talk, and he sneers unpleasantly.

Three guards push their way past the watchers with the boat owner, but they don't appear to be in any rush to apprehend the brigand. Or help you either, in fact. It's the same bunch you saw earlier. The lead guard, the one you spoke with, smirks unpleasantly and shouts something in the local tongue. Tomas replies angrily. The guard says something short and his fellow guards and a number of civilians laugh.

The guard points and parts from the crowd, hopping over to the boat with practiced ease, and stands among you. "'Ello there, strangers. See you caught your villain. I trust the violence is done, eh? Can't have you making a spectacle and not actually kill the man, eh?" He grins nastily.

Tomas Twentyfingers mutters under his breath and curls his lip bitterly, but is otherwise indifferent.



No Strength check needed from anybody. It was totally a Medicine roll, but I'm not going to stop anybody from roleplaying - it's been kinda light. I assume it's maybe just something she saw done once on a cadaver, so it's mostly nerves throwing her game. Speaking of, I mention the North Keep thing because I think y'all forgot your ship is due to leave in a day and a half.

[Majin]

"Ooh, that's gotta hurt!" Darrik says as he watches Tarina fumble with the arrow.

"Sorry about the arrow, but you were acting really violent. And speaking of which, I think I can still use that!", Darrik says to Twentyfingers and snatches the arrow back.

"Nope, we're done with violence for today officers. I think you should just lock him up?". These guys were giving him a weird feeling, very different from the nice and professional guards of Palanthas.

[Fishybugs]

"We're very done with violence today, officers. Let me just heal him up a little bit and you can have him." Tarina grabs her holy symbol, lays a hand on Tomas and mumbles a few words to Mishakal.

[roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

Tomas eyes Tarina suspiciously as she places her hand on him, still hurting from his treatment, but relaxes as her healing light first stanches the dribble of blood and then stitches the hole in his thigh muscles closed. The guard snerks and spits into the water with unapologetic crudity, and then helps Tomas to his feet. They appear distinctly unhappy in each others' presence. "Well, lets get you off, then," the guard says, prodding the crook along with the haft of his spear. He adds something in the local tongue, to which Tomas responds acidly. He turns back to you all before hopping back across to the dock, "A real treat. Don't call again. And tell Ser Robert he can expect more of the same consideration since he's gone and lied to me for so long. Unless he wants to tell me who is lord is. I'll take that."

The guard follows Tomas Twentyfingers across, saying, "Oh, aye. I'll take it, too. Hehehehe. Off you go, you scum." They walk off together, and each is approached by observers from the crowd.

People begin to disperse - the gambling dwarves and waitress return to their bar; stevedores go back to work; the boat owner is perplexed and disappointed and very much wants you off his home; and the kender woman waits patiently, drums in hand, for your approach.

"Hullo!" she says happily. "I'm Smokey Fluebristle. That sure looked exciting. Is this your first time in Pentar? You're looking for a missing knight? That sounds like a great story. North Keep's quite a ways from here. I'm a travelling player. What do you do? You look like warriors!" For a tiny kender girl she's very attractive, and her voice is clear and pleasant rather than loud and shrill. In fact, her accent is thoroughly local as well. She's wearing loose cloth in orange and yellow and a leather skirt, all in layers, but somehow still shows off her thin neck, shoulders and midriff. She's forgone a topknot in favor of long brown dreadlocks.

[Majin]

Darrik watches as Tarina heals Twentyfingers' wound. "Ooh, I should learn how to do that".

"Oh, hello! I'm Darrik Proudfoot. Nice to meet you!" Darrik says, twirling the arrow in his hand. "Nah, never been here. Or in North Keep for that matter. I like traveling, but it's a big world I guess. But a bard? You must have seen a lot! Have you been to North Keep?".

"I think we're mercenaries right now. Sort of. Just doing a favor for a friend back in Palanthas". Darrik looks at Twentyfingers and the guard. "What was the deal with those two? Seems like they have some history".

[Gorgon_Heap]

Smokey's eyes widen. "Mercenaries? That's a dangerous line of work, Darrik. But you look like you're a really good shot with that bow. Oh, North Keep is wonderful! So big and so many things do and so many people. I guess Palanthas is like that too.

"Oh, them?" She shrugs, absentmindedly tapping out a beat with her fingertips. "Twentyfinger is a crook. Sakkid just likes money. 'Hey, you want to know about this person? Gimme coins and I'll tell ya!' What a jerk. I bet he's not going to take Twentyfingers to the jail, either. Why bother? He gets out faster than even the most respectable kender would."

[Majin]

"Yeah, I've practiced a lot. If the Keep is anything like Palanthas, I bet it'll be interesting!" Darrik says, putting the arrow back into the quiver.

"You think he's gonna bother us?Some Palanthas guards can get really upset when people brawl. Oh, and do you know any good blacksmiths? I think I lost my sword"

[Fishybugs]

Tarina watches Tomas being unceremoniously hauled off by the guard and feels sorry for him momentarily. I'm sure he'd be a good person if he had just been born somewhere he could have been loved. As the kender woman approaches, Tarina is at first suspicious, but Smokey's pleasant attitude helps her relax and just listen to the two kender speak. After their brief exchange, Tarina pipes up, "We should probably be going, Darrik. You're welcome to join us, Miss Smokey, if you would like to travel to the North Keep. We should get Darrik a weapon, she says as she looks into the water. "How much do you think we would have to pay someone to go down after it?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

"I don't know any blacksmiths," Smokey says regretfully. "But there are plenty of shops around. I'll be happy to show you to a few I've been allowed into.

"Oh, thank you, miss. I'd love to, but I promised some people I'd be here next week to play for them. Maybe when you come back and you're not in such a hurry we can have a proper conversation and you can tell me about your adventures?!"

It's now sunset.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina thinks of the apparent long trek to North Keep and sighs. Her meager housing in Palanthas now seemed palatious next to whatever terrain she would be sleeping in on the journey. She looks to the north, then toward where their ship is moored.

"Well. What do you guys want to do? We know what happened to Robert. We didn't tell Gravvik we would chase him across the world. He just wanted to know what happened, right?"

[Deathkeeper]

I cross my arms.
"No, he wanted his cat back. Or whatever that thing was. That's the thing we were supposed to find. We can go back and tell him we need more arrangements, or we can go chase Robert and pay for passage back later. But just telling him another location ain't gonna cut it for paying off his debt. You and I both know he's stingy that way."

[Majin]

Darrik nods. "That's just like him. He'd just send us back, so I say we go to North Keep and find Robert and the statue. We'll save time and get to see new places! I bet we can find another boat to take us back to Palanthas. I've always wanted to try one of those gnomish contraptions, but they're pretty rare, I guess the just explode too much".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina nods as she listens to the men, and even becomes fascinated in Darrik's description of the gnomish boat, but definitively decides not to try one when she hears about the frequent explosions.

Okay. North Keep, she says, without a lot of excitement in her voice. She looks back toward where the Clampherdown is moored. "It's a long ways home. You're sure we can get another ride?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

Smokey happily chats with you for several more minutes, and you get the impression she’s lived her entire life in Nordmaar but is well traveled and well informed. For starters, she tells you North Keep is much farther away than you suspected – it lies about 100 miles southeast of Pentar, at the heart of the giant Sahket Jungle.

“But there’s lots and lots of people traveling between here and there. I always find a caravan and ride along. Plenty of teamsters are willing to give me a seat in exchange for my music. Five days on the road gets really boring.” She gives you the names and offices of several caravan companies and wishes you well, asking you to find her and tell her about your trip when you return.

[Majin]

Darrik waves off Tarina's worries. "Don't worry about it. We'll figure something out".

"Five days, that's not too bad", Darrik says cheerily. "Thanks for the advice. We'll be sure to find you on the way back!"

After Smokey has left them, Darrik turns to his companions. "I think going along with a caravan sounds good. It'll be way more interesting than with just the three of us at least. And they probably know good routes".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina says her goodbyes to Smokey, and listens to Darrik's opinion on the caravan. "Will that slow us down at all? It seems like a caravan would move much slower."

[Majin]

"Ehh, it's not like a day or two will make any difference". Darrik pauses and tries to think about arguments that might work better on responsible folk. "And there's a chance someone on the caravan might know Robert, if he travelled with them. We can also ask people about North Keep. And if we manage to get a ride on a carriage, it'll be much comfier than by travelling on foot. I'm not much of a singer, but I'll see what I can do".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina looks to Koshal, "What do you think? Maybe we can become caravan guards in exchange for free passage?" She then looks to Darrik and winces, "Maybe you should sing."

[Deathkeeper]

I raise an eyebrow at Tarina.
"Me, I can pull that angle, Miss. You might be able to convince them that your god will bless the passage if you're aboard. Because I'm not all that sure that they'll accept that you or he will be good guards. You don't exactly look tough, and you know kender's reputation."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina looks down at her armor, then to her mace, and with a disgruntled face says, "Okay then. It's probably worth a try at least. Let's see if we can find a caravan headingn out. Probably closer in toward solid land?" She gestures toward the other end of the rafted ships. As they head toward land, she says to Darrik, "I could totally pull off caravan guard."

[Gorgon_Heap]

As night falls you follow Smokey’s directions through town to the traveler’s ward. While you’ve seen plenty of small shops in town and countless peddlers of nearly anything you can think of in the Floating Market and nearby docks, this entire street and surrounding buildings are distinct; its full of woodworkers, wheelwrights, smiths, messenger services, carriage rentals, liveries, and guildhalls for teamsters, merchants and guards. Warehouses and great roofed open-air work areas are covered in wood shavings and you assume during the day this place is a roaring with crafters hard at work on wagons and who knows what else.

Business hours are ended, but the guildhalls still seem busy.


Like I said before; you can just give me a clear idea what your plan is and give me a roll. We don't need to play this out. If you want to talk it over, please do, but more than that is not necessary. I think you can figure something out. I've already thought of four different options you could try.

[Majin]

Darrik looks excitedly around him. They were bound to find whatever they needed in here.

"Since it's late, nobody will probably leave today, but maybe we can find someone who needs bodyguards. Come on!", Darrik says, beckoning Koshal and Tarina to follow him. He talks to people and asks them about merchants who are leaving tomorrow and might need to hire bodyguards. Of course assuming they stay to talk with an excited kender.

Persuasion: [roll0]

Darrik will also buy a shortsword, if he can find one.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Darrik warmly meets and greets a number of merchants and their employees in the guildhall. Here they relax and talk (and sometimes threaten and cajole) at end of their busy workdays before parting for home or tending to other affairs. The middle-aged and somewhat frumpy Master Lodoran admits somewhat sweatily that he has merchandise destined for North Keep caravan tomorrow, and though worried about its arriving safely, for financial reasons he’s willing to send it along with others and hope it gets protected (from both outside and within the caravan, he implies). He doesn’t know you of course, but you’re all armed and two of you bear holy symbols, so he agrees to send you along with his wagon, providing a ride and food if you guard his property. (He does ask you to sign a short-term contract, of course.)

Early the following morning the three of you return and are impressed with the overall bustle. There are a full two dozen wagons being packed, and teamsters, guards, and passengers number nearly 100 total. That says nothing of all the draft animals. Lodoran’s wagon is driven by a single middle-aged man who looks bored by the whole affair but is otherwise unpleasant in demeanor. He grumpily tells you to mind your business – and that business is solely keeping one eye on the goods stacked in the wagon and another out into the jungle when you get there. Rather than travel due east into the jungle’s northern reaches, you are going southeast along its edge.

The caravan gets on its way with practiced ease across the plains of Nordmaar, and for several days the going is easy and dull. You pass other caravans and travelers heading north, you see herds of wild horses and more exotic beasts, as well as hunting bands of actual Nordmaarian Horselords, who form the another part of this strange kingdom.

On your third day the land changes and the elevation rises, and you quickly find yourselves on a road boring without deviation through the Sahket Jungle. This is a truly strange place for the lot of you. Within a few miles the sun is blotted out by a canopy of towering trees draped in vines and an astonishing array of foliage. There is constant noise – hooting and creaking and croaking and whistling from countless animals in every direction. Misty drizzles fall without warning. The air smells of damp earth and fragrant fruits and flowers. You continue to pass other wagons and travelers, but there are far more wary than those of the plains. Here you also observe human life in the jungle; villages along the road or just off in the distance – some full of people going about daily life in thatched-roofed huts, some seemingly abandoned. You also spy overgrown relics and ruins of strange design and indeterminate age.

On the fourth day the caravan stops at a frequently used campsite, and a man you have become familiar with while gaming after hours and sharing tales during the dull hours of riding approaches Darrik with purpose. Kott is an unremarkable man of Nerakese stock, and he’s got a stuffed leather satchel in one hand and a war pick in the other. “Darrik, would you do me a favor? I need to take a walk and would appreciate a sharp set of eyes and a bow. Afraid my usual second wasn’t able to make this trip.”

[Majin]

Darrik was getting bit bored, since the trip hadn't offered that many distractions. There hadn't even been any bandits or wild animals trying to attack them. Darrik was trying to come up with something fun to do just as a man named Kott came to speak with him.

"Sure, no problem", Darrik says and stands up, ready to follow Kott. His eyes twinkle with excitement as he continues "Think there's going to be trouble?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

Kott looks with alarm at Darrik, then recalls this is typical of kender. "Gods, I hope not. But better safe and all that. Give me some space - follow me at thirty paces or so." He wanders away from the road and the safety of the caravan with practiced ease, but it highly alert, his eyes constantly darting above and below ...


More to come. Gotta leave work and go back to work. Y'all do something if you want.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina watches the exchange with some suspicion. "Should we go with them Koshal? This seems weird." She looks around and does some mental math, then realizes there would be no guards at the wagon. "Well...I guess I'll stay here...Be careful, Darrik."

[Majin]

Darrik gives Tarina thumbs up and follows Kott, bow at ready, attempting to be silent and minding his surroundings.

If needed:
Perception: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

[Gorgon_Heap]

Camp

Though an unfamiliar exercise to you both, you now both know what to expect when it comes to setting camp amid this traveling band. Everyone has responsibilities they tend to with practices ease; most of wagons are equipped with cloth tarps on either side which simply unroll to provide basic sleeping cover – lean-tos ready in moments. But many immediately begin tending to animals and spreading out to find small game and water sources as others start cook fires within existing stone circles. Your driver unwraps some hardtack and chews moodily as he watches the kender wander off. "I needs ta make a movement. Stay 'ere," he grumbles while stepping quickly away from the road …



Jungle

It doesn’t take Darrik long to realize Kott is following certain natural markers, but he is surprised how far away the man is going. The kender estimates they’ve walked at least a half-mile when something doesn’t feel right. But it’s too late. A blur of movement from a broad-leafed shrub sharpens into a large spotted cat loping in three long bounds at the leading man. He barely has time to shout when a paw tears away part of his pants leg and he stumbles away almost in a panic. He swings his pick at the jaguar but it’s reared back and hissing madly – even to Darrik’s unpracticed eye the thing appears skeletally thin. Kott shouts for help as the starving cat leaps atop him again …

[Majin]

"Oh, that's a big cat!" Darrik exclaims.

He quickly fires an arrow towards the cat. "Here kitty!"

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Fishybugs]

Tarina wasn't sure about a lot of things, but setting up camp was one thing she could do. Her limited travels with her mentor, as well as multiple trips into the wilderness with her father, left her with a good idea of how things were to be set up. When the caravan stopped she briskly got to work, at first watching some of the other caravanners to learn how to use the unfamiliar equipment. Occasionally, she looks out the way Darrik had gone, hoping to see his topknot bobbing above the shrubbery on his way back.

[Deathkeeper]

[Camp]

Making camp is nothing new to me, but doing so as part of a group is something I've less experience with. Oh, sure, I've done it, just not often. I've usually been content to be on my own, or in a small party to get through notoriously problematic areas.
But that's not really the issue right now. Right now, Tarina's worry is being more the problem. Which means the kender is a problem, albeit indirectly. Of course.
"Do you want me to go after them?" I ask Tarina with a sigh. As long as there's light I shouldn't have trouble making my way back even if my paltry tracking skills fail me. Though with his bare feet the kender isn't that hard to smell.

((it's too bad 5e doesn't have 3.P's minotaur power of them never getting lost :smalltongue:))

[Gorgon_Heap]

Jungle

Kott knocks the cat's on the snout ineffectively with the side of his pick, saving himself a severe bite. Darrik's arrow flashes into the ground just inches away from its front paw and it leaps back, flicking its hungry eyes toward the smaller, safer meal. Its legs bunch, scrawny muscles corded, and springs across the ground with speed ...



Lucky - I rerolled your nat 1 for a nat 7 - you just missed.

The jaguar used its attack action against Kott and then its move action to get to you. It has initiative and will attack, but because it can't use its move this round it can't use its Pounce action. Because it is adjacent to you, you will be at Disadvantage if you choose a ranged attack.

[Fishybugs]

"Uhhmm.... Tarina looks around the camp. "I guess we'll probably be okay if it's just me here. There's plenty of others around to help if something goes wrong, right?"

[Majin]

"You look really hungry! I bet you'd really like to get a taste of me, heh", Darrik says and draws his sword while holding his bow on his other on hand. Then he takes a swing at the cat.

Attack: [roll0] I guess rollv didn't add the 5, so result is 8.
Damage: [roll1]

[Gorgon_Heap]

Jungle

Darrik's sword batters aside frantic claws and teeth, and he sees Kott run up and deliver a heavy blow to the cat's backside, eliciting both a powerful snap of breaking bone and a horrible shriek of pain inches from the kender's face.


Next round! You keep maxing damage without hitting. Sorry. But the cat's rolling ridiculously low as well. So there's that.

And so far as I know, LDK, only Hobbits don't wear shoes; normal D&D halflings and kender do unless there's a conscious decision on the layer's part.

Not tell me if minotaurs have hooves or feet...? :)

[Majin]

"This is getting silly!" Darrik exclaims. He tried to swing fast, but the jaguar was really fast despise its malnourished state. Darrik took another swing, hoping to finally land a blow.

Attack: [roll0] -I assume that's a hit.
Damage: [roll1]

"Ha! Take that!" Darrik shouts as he finally manages to land a blow.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The cat’s claws scratch open the back of Darrik’s hand as he thrusts his sword into its necks, pushing it deeper as it leans its mouth toward his face. Blood gushes, its eyes go dead, and it slumps.

Kott, breathless, nods, smiling. “Thank you for coming along. We’re almost there.” He leaves you with your trophy and walks ahead a mere hundred yards to some sort of old statue or figure, ten feet high and mostly overgrown, and shaped a bit like some fanciful dragon. He takes his heavy satchel and shoves it into the statue’s mouth and returns to you without further thought. “Let’s get back before it’s dark. It’s a lot worse when it’s dark.”

After a round trip of about forty minutes Darrik and Kott reappear at the camp, now largely settling down to dinner, but there’s still no sign of the wagon driver.


Darrik earns 50 xp

[Majin]

On their way back, Darrik pesters Kott about the dragon statue and the pack, asking what that was about.

Persuasion: [roll0]

[Fishybugs]

Tarina finishes setting up camp and starts preparing the meal, hoping Darrik returns soon.

[Gorgon_Heap]

On their way back, Darrik pesters Kott about the dragon statue and the pack, asking what that was about.

Persuasion: [roll0]

As you leave Kott asks the kender if he plans to bring the cat back, but otherwise his only response is a smile and, "Business. Just business." And he returns to his traveling companions.

[Majin]

Darrik looks at the cat. "Hmm. I don't feel like carrying it all the way back. So, I guess vultures are going to have a nice lunch. Unless you want it", he says cheerily. "On second thought, maybe I should take something and make a trophy. Those are always neat".

Darrik performs some quick dentistry with his dagger and removes a couple of teeth from the dead jaguar. He also cuts some fur and puts everything into his pouches for later. He takes one last look at the dragon statue before heading back.

---

Back at the camp, Darrik seeks out Koshal and Tarina and starts telling them what happened. "Hey guys! We got attacked by a cat. I mean not like a house cat, but one that was sorta big and hadn't really eaten. I mean, it was all skin and bones, so you can't really blame it for trying".

Anyway, we killed it and then Kott made an offering left food to a dragon statue. I'm not sure what that was all about, he wouldn't tell."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina walks over and inspects Darrik. "Wow. That sounds dangerous. Are you okay?"

[Majin]

"Nah, just a scratch", Darrik says and shows the back of his hand.

"But I wonder what Kott was doing with the statue? He said it was 'business'. Maybe something shady..." Darrik says in a hushed voice and frowns.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina nods her head. "It is suspicious. Our wagon driver disappeared and never came back too. I was wondering if he was just out talking to other teamsters, but I haven't seen him."

[Majin]

"Ooh, I wonder what's going on here. Should we go find out what happened to him?" Darrik says and glances at the forest. "I bet I could track him".

[Deathkeeper]

I nod to the kender. "The caravan's not going anywhere, so it might not hurt to investigate. Between the two of us we can probably find him. But this dragon statue...shrine. How many heads did the statue have? There really aren't that many dragon gods, but sometimes parts of the old cults stick around. That or it could have been more...literal." I tell him.
Though usually anyone directly worshiping a dragon is something easily impressed and lesser in the head, like gully dwarves, goblins, or kobolds.

[Fishybugs]

"I'll check with the other caravaners. He may just be visiting friends." Tarina searches through the camp, looking for where the caravan drivers may gather to discuss....caravan driver things, she supposes. They must have to discuss driving techniques, and plans for the next day, right?

She asks around the camp, Excuse me? I'm looking for the driver of Lodoran's wagon. I...I guess I don't know his name..."

[roll0]

[Majin]

"Umm, I think only one head, so I don't think it was the Dragon Queen. It would be fun if it was though. Hey, maybe Kott worships some other evil god and it will drag us to Abyss?", Darrik says excitedly to Koshal. "You know, my uncle Tas visited Abyss fun, it sounds like it would be really interesting".

[Gorgon_Heap]

You did learn the man's name while traveling with him four days - Terp - but as he was generally vulgar and unpleasant you didn't speak with him much. In fact, Tarina finds over the course of the night he was known and unliked by a number of veteran travelers. It seems few would have welcomed him around their fire to begin with and nobody recalled exchanging more than a few words with him the entire trip.

Tired from several hours of backtracking and questioning, Tarina calls it a night. Come sunrise, the caravan quickly wakes, breaks fast and reverses the rapid encampment of the previous evening, leaving the three of you with a wagon of goods, two oxen and no driver as the rest of the train readies to leave.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina helps to break down and store the camping equipment, all the while keeping an eye out for Terp to return. Once everything is stowed and there is no sign of the driver, she looks over the wagon, then turns to her two companions. "Either of you know how to drive one of these?"

[Majin]

"No, not really. We have to find our driver or start learning", Darrik says and pets one of the oxen.

He then climbs on the wagon and starts going through the things left there. "Hey, if Terp's gone, does it mean this stuff is ours?"

[Fishybugs]

"No, it's not ours," Tarina says absently as she finishes gathering her things. "I'm gonna try and find him real quick." Tarina goes around the camp again looking for Terp, asking other guards this time if they had seen him leave camp.

[roll0]

[Majin]

"I guess you're right", Darrik says to Tarina as he climbs onto the wagon and puts one random item absentmindedly into his pockets.

"You know, driving a carriage can't be too hard. If Terp disappeared last night, he could be anywhere. Maybe eaten by a big cat?"

Sleight of hand, if needed: [roll0]

[Gorgon_Heap]

As teams and wagons begin to creak and grunt past you, nobody has anything else to add, though one enterprising man with a greedy glint in his eye hops off his own vehicle and asks if you need help. "You three don't look too prepared ... can't risk leaving all these goods behind. Maybe I should have my man here join you?" His friend (or employee) looks impatient to leave, but isn't completely disinterested in your wagon.

[Deathkeeper]

I shrug to the man.
"If he knows how to drive a team, sure. But are we really just going to leave with a man missing?" I ask him. They can't be serious about this.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina returns to the group. "Nobody has even seen poor Terp. I wonder where he got off to." She notices the commotion of everyone getting ready to leave. "Are they still rolling out? Do we leave? We're supposed to watch the wagon, but I have to think he would want his man to arrive safely as well."

[Gorgon_Heap]

The teamster grins slimily. "It happens. Sahket Jungle's a heck of a dangerous place. Step too far from the road at the wrong time and ... Anyway, Jethro get on over there and help those poor folks get their team under way. We'll be happy to help them to the safety of North Keep."

Jethro does as bidden and takes up the seat on your wagon, easily getting the oxen moving while the other wagons are still just in sight down the road and takes a place just behind his wagon, which his boss is now driving.As you leave the camp clearing behind Jethro points at a huge, flat stone engraved in several languages "North Keep 25 miles --->" and he says you should get to the city by evening if the weather holds out.

That's hardly the end of it, as you continue to pass other travelers, mostly in large groups or trains of their own, as well as more small villages (most strangely empty but well cared-for) within a mile or so of the road, some on hilltops ans such, and actual small town that more resemble something you would see back west, though far more compact and walled - this is not open farmland these people live on.


I will compose a post for your arrival at the city. Feel free to discuss what's happened or what your next move is once you reach the North Keep.

A few hours later you are pleasantly surprised to find you've somehow acquired a set of Fine leatherworking tools. Definitely for use by a skilled craftsman.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina sits and thinks quietly as they move through the countryside. "Strange how something that looks so different can still feel so familiar," she finally says wistfully as they pass by one of the small towns.

"I thought about it a little more, Darrik, she continues with a sideways glance toward Jethro, "You probably should hold Terp's stuff for him until we can find him."

[Majin]

"Alright, I'll see to it that nothing goes missing", Darrik says solemnly, while looking into one of his pouches, admiring the new leatherworking tools that somehow appeared there. "There are hungry beasts here though, let's hope his woodcraft is good".

[Gorgon_Heap]

North Keep, the capital city of Nordmaar, is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It sits at the heart of hundreds miles of dense, dark, loamy forest. Towering exotic trees hang heavy with colorful fruit, and the warm, damp air is thick with the calls of countless strange animals. The well-worn road you’ve been traveling under the layered canopy turns and suddenly there’s a wall before you, a dark heavy wall of impressive dimensions. At least thirty feet high, the dark stone of North Keep’s outer curtain is rimed with the evidence of life – mold and vines and tiny shrubs, patchwork nests and dripping excrement from chittering little monkeys and brightly-plumed birds with curved beaks and a cacophony of squawks and whistles. The vines and animals stretch and skitter effortlessly from boughs of the largest trees, mere yards from the wall, flying in the face of conventional design.

Upon the ramparts overlooking the cavernous gateway are olive-skinned, dark-haired soldiers in lamellar and brilliantly plumed helms. Each wears a bright green cloak and watches you patiently with crossbows at the ready, but not threatening. Ballistae are equally ready for action. Ahead of you, in the gatehouse, are similarly attired guards speaking with travelers and occasionally examining packs, baskets and carts. They’re obviously familiar with a number of locals and teamsters, but still perform their duties professionally.

They speak with you only briefly, and you note nervous, distrustful glances directed toward Koshal.

Once inside the wall, the city’s strange atmosphere continues to surprise. Square, sturdy freestanding buildings rise three or four stories, separated by only three or four foot-wide halls packed with refuse, plant life, tiny shacks and oddities such as chicken coops. The streets are equally small and congested with vendors and carts and animals. Fruits and roasted nuts, odd little pies and a number of animals turning over small rotisseries crowd around you and assault your nose. The lizards and birds and monkeys frolic about the rooftops and alleys without concern. The people, a bit shorter on average than Solamnians and much darker in coloration, wear light fabrics in layers, but both men and women have little compunction with showing plenty of skin in these climes. Open skirts and vests abound, as does an astonishing array of ornamentation, piercings and tattoos.

The wagon train passes though the massive gate after inspections are finished and clatters down several streets to a merchant's center not unlike the one you left in Pentar only many times the size. Dozens of people immediately get to work unpacking and offloading goods into several office buildings and warehouses. Clerks speak with the caravan master and one approaches you, hesitating and looking confused when looking at the three of you, but Jethro dismounts and his boss says to you toothily as he makes for the clerk, "Don't worry, we'll handle this. Just have to make sure he understands the wagon's master was lost in the Sahket. It happens."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina briefly looks to Koshal, then to Darrik. "I'll be right back. I want to make sure that clerk knows that this wagon belongs to Lodoran, and find out where we should take his stuff to." She follows Jethro toward the clerk.

[Majin]

Darrik nods at Tarina. "Alright, I'll go ask people about Chinda's Collectibles. That Twentyfingers guy said Robert would be going there".

Investigation or persuasion? +1 if persuasion. If Guidance can be applied, Darrik casts it: [roll1]

And since we're at a market of some sort, sleight of hand: [roll]120+5

[Gorgon_Heap]

Tarina approaches Jethro, the Boss and the clerk, and heads crane in her direction and back to each other quickly. It's terribly busy and loud here and you can't hear them at all until you are standing right next to them - at which point you realize they are conversing in the native Nordmaarian language. The Boss turns toward her and grins again. "Not to worry, young miss. This gent says he can have his men take the wagon and goods. All the merchants in this train are registered at the guildhall, so there's no losing nothin'."

The clerk looks from him to you, his face a rock. "Yes," he says with a heavy accent.


Meanwhile Darrik finds that asking about a business while surrounded by merchants is pretty easy work. Within ten minutes he learns the approximate location of the shop and little tidbits - such as Chinda's is a longstanding and respected art dealership with a very solid reputation - which recently took a hit when it was burgled a few weeks ago.

[Deathkeeper]

"I-"
And look, they're gone. Probably for the best, leaving wagon-guarding duty to the best guard. Doesn't make it any less boring, but if I moved it would only make all of Tarina's effort pointless. So, for now, I had time and an old blade that needed polishing.

[Fishybugs]

Tarina looks from one man to the next, then back again.

Insight: [roll0]

Are they ripping us off?

She has an uneasy feeling, but nods her head and returns to Koshal. "The clerk is going to get the goods to where they belong. We should be done here. Do you know where Darrik got off to?"

[Majin]

Darrik runs back to Koshal and Tarina. "Hey, guess what, I found out where the shop is that Twentyfingers told us about. If you're done here, just follow me, I'm pretty sure I can lead us there".

[Fishybugs]

"Great timing! We just finished. All the supplies are going to be delivered by the clerk." Tarina follows Darrik back to the shop.

[Gorgon_Heap]

With business concluded and early evening setting in, you take a stroll through this amazing city with Darrik in the lead, occasionally backtracking or wandering off in distraction. North Keep’s sights, sounds, and smells continue to delight as you go, and the sun is setting. You can tell only by the golden dimness and length of shadows because the height of city buildings and massive breadth of the surrounding jungle makes it impossible to actually view the sun at this time of day. It takes you more than an hour to find Chinda’s Collectibles, and it’s strategically placed on a major thoroughfare between the merchant district and what appears to be the richest part of town. Streets broaden and buildings become even taller and much more ornate. The dual influences of Nordmaarian and Solamnic architecture are more segregated; buildings designed by westerners are far fewer and appear thinner, made of more expensive stone and with lighter frames. Buttresses appear only among these, not the Nordmaarian-designed buildings, some of which almost look like they were made of huge cubic stones stacked by the hundreds.

The people here wear rich cloth and are adorned with expensive jewelry and accoutrements. Many have servants or employees following along. There are plumed guards walking about, eyes sharp but otherwise carefree.

Chinda’s is on the second floor or a large, squat building, and there is a well dressed guard within the door. The expansive floor room displays an array of art objects, jewelry, and furniture from all around Ansalon. You’re certain it’s all incredibly expensive but some items are so far beyond your humble lives you don’t even recognize what they are. Chinda is an overweight, smiling, guileless man in a golden silks, and he greets you in common with the kindly mask of servility despite your group’s composition and appearance. “Good day. I am Chinda and it would be my great pleasure to assist you with a purchase or special order.”

[Deathkeeper]

I give the man an incline of my head in greeting, as a bow isn't proper to a merchant. I think. I was never sure about that, but doing something is polite, I'm sure.
"Afternoon, sir. We'd be happy to browse your wares, but first we had a question for you. An acquaintance told us that a friend of ours might have stopped by here, and we've been looking for him for quite some time. Tarina, could you give Robert's description?" I say, turning to the young lady.
The details slipped my mind, alright?

[Fishybugs]

Tarina steps forward and greets the merchant. She thinks for a moment on how Gravvik described Robert. She gives a complete and detailed description of Robert of Dawn's Edge, as well as the sorts of places he's likely to frequent, but not the part about the sorts of ladies he's likely to seek once there.

Cut, pasted, and slightly edited from the description given to us. :smallwink:

[Gorgon_Heap]

Chinda's reaction, or lack thereof, speaks greatly to the man's character and professionalism. While his face maintains a sort of pleasing vacuousness, his left hand twitches just noticeably. The guard near the entrance is immediately on alert. "Of course, sir, young miss. May I ask the nature of your inquiry? Shall I show you around the showroom as we talk?"

You all note he's just the slightest bit more tense than he was earlier, but obviously has no training in violence and he shuffles unconsciously, unsure which direction to lean away from you as you walk. He anxiously but dutifully describes the make and history of items as he draws you past them. "... this settee was imported at great expense from Delphon, and was made by the great craftsman Fadir el-Drammas for the city's famous Seers more than a century ago. But the tale goes the magical ladies knew of the approaching War of the Lance, and immediately secreted it away so it would not be destroyed during the coming siege. It has never seen regular use ..."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina is amazed at the items in the shop, and wonders at the history behind each item. When appropriate, she slips in commentary regarding Robert and their business with him. "We're just looking for him. He's apparently missing. We were asked by a friend of his to come see if we could find out what happened to him."

[Majin]

Darrik looks at all the different items with great interest, though he doesn't listen to Chinda's explanation about their history, instead humming a tune he heard the caravaneers singing.

"A fellow called Tomas said you did business with him", Darrik adds.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Chinda talks on and on and on, slowly walking you through the showroom and returning your comments with only polite aloofness. "Hm, Robert, yes. Is this your first time to North Keep? I suspect you are surprised to find such luxury goods available in the heart of the Sahket Jungle, but our fair city is centuries old and of course the seat of the kingdom! Oh, no I can't say I know of any Tomas."

You learn - or ignore - a great many tidbits about all sorts of people and items you have no need of, and some of your patience begins to wane to irritation as what must be at least twenty minutes passes by in a boring deluge of monotonous words. Suddenly the intense door guard turns and speaks with somebody outside the room and then graciously welcomes a young woman in an expensive blue dress. She eyes your group with keen interest ...

[Ninja_Prawn]

I address the proprietor in my noblest voice, all cold politeness and assumed superiority. "Good evening, Chinda. I do apologise for this intrusion, but I'm afraid I must borrow your customers for a while. We have urgent business to discuss."

Turning to the minotaur, kender and human, I say: "Urgent, private business."

[Fishybugs]

The first few minutes were fascinating to Tarina. She listened intently and asked leading questions to engage Chinda. The next few minutes, she followed Chinda around politely nodding her head to his comments. After six minutes of listening to his voice, Tarina started looking for polite ways to exit the conversation, unable to think of anything. After what seemed like an eternity, Tarina watches the graceful woman enter the room and ask their pardon and it is all she can do not to exclaim her joy aloud.

"Chinda, so sorry we have to go. See," she waves her hand indistinctly toward the newcomer, "we have to be going. So sorry. Your knowledge of your items is truly commendable. Again, thanks for your time and...if you need anything....ummm....you know what? Nevermind." Tarina makes what she believes to be a graceful departure, but rushes outside before Chinda can reply.

As she walks past this finely dressed woman, she mouths the words "Thank you" to her as she exits.

[Majin]

"Alright. The history lecture was getting kind of boring anyways", Darrik says to the noblewoman and follows Tarina outside.

"Who are you, exactly?" he asks once they're outside. "Do you know something about Robert? And are you feeling well? You have sort of... weird look on your face".

[Ninja_Prawn]

"Weird look"? I glare at the kender, then dismiss whatever I was going to say.

"My name is Sorawyl Kassonor and yes, I am here now because I have heard about your... manhunt. Come. We should find somewhere more private." I lead them towards the nearest tavern. Since this is such an affluent area, I assume that whichever one we end up at will have some kind of private room we could rent for the evening. As we walk I ask, "so, what do I call you?"

[Majin]

"Some people call me very rude names, but my name's Darrik Proudfoot", Darrik says. "And we're not really hunting Robert, because that would mean we were going to shoot an arrow into him and eat him. Or stuff him. And those just aren't very nice things to do".

[Fishybugs]

Tarina smiles as Darrik introduces himself. While settling in to wherever they are led, Tarina is obviously uncomfortable with such a flamboyant display of wealth. "My name is Tarina, Miss Kassonor. Do you know something about Robert?"

[Ninja_Prawn]

"Robert of Dawn's Edge? Yes, I know something of him." Eager, aren't they?

I sit back and cast my eye over the minotaur, smiling warmly. A paladin, then, to go with the cleric. "You do not seem to talk much, do you? Will you tell me your name if I buy you a drink?"

[Fishybugs]

Oh! I'm sorry. This is Koshal. He's big and quiet. Strong. Smart." Tarina reaches over and runs her hand over Koshal's arm. "His fur is really soft, too," she teases him, then pulls her hand back before he can react.

"You said you know Robert?"

[Ninja_Prawn]

I shuffle over to sample Koshal's fur. "Mhm. Robert and I... are old friends. Why exactly are you so keen to find him?"

[Fishybugs]

"Oh....we're just here to..."

Wisdom check... [roll0]

"Uhm...why are you looking for him?"

[Ninja_Prawn]

"I never said I was. Indeed; I could take you to him tonight if I had a mind to... though I suspect he would be happier if we waited until morning, now. And I, for one, want to know more about you - first. You seem such a... curious company."

[Fishybugs]

"A friend was worried that he hadn't returned and asked us to find him." She thinks for a few moments before adding first as an afterthought then rushing through the entire though process, "Or maybe he asked us to find the cat? It all happened in such a rush and I didn't think we'd be gone so long. I think we're more than even now. Gravvik is gonna have to cough up a favor of his own."

[Ninja_Prawn]

I nod. So they are Gravvik's gofers, after all.

"Hah. If you are more than even with Gravvik, I suggest you call it quits with him at the next opportunity. He would have you trading favours for the rest of your days if you let him." I lean in and engage each of the three in close eye contact. "I see you have heard of the Brass Cat. That is good, because we are going to have to find it whether we want to or not. Robert will not be going back to Palanthas without it, which means the same goes for us."

[Fishybugs]

Tarina glances around the lavish, uncomfortable with the obvious display of wealth. I'm way out of my depth here, she thinks to herself. She glances to the floor, then back to Sorawyl, "How do you know Gravvik, Lady Kassonor?"