Evesgate - Company and City - Local

[cameronpants]

The Reflections of Success
Edmund's Company



Turn 1

Day 1:
Edmund's silversmith apprentices arrive in the Red Festival after a long day of work. They slowly begin nay-saying the Miner's Guild (Company, Local), attacking their management and overall proficiency at handling "incidents".
Intent:
Roll: Influence + Espionage

[cameronpants]

Reserved for other things.

[Feralgeist]

Day 1.

Edmund Doppel stands in front of his mirror in the attic of the three-story jeweler shop, doing up the buttons of his coat. He is pale-skinned with dark slicked-back hair and piercing steely eyes. Edmund concentrates and a silvery blue mask manifests across his brow and throat. He grips the mask in the centre with his fingers and it splits open, peeling away from his face. He tucks the glowing soulmeld onto the navy collar of his coat and it coalesces there, solidifying into a decadent silver embroidery across the coats' wide lapels. Edmund grins at himself and breathes onto the mirror, fogging it up. With a delicate finger he deftly draws an intricate sigil onto the glass that resembles an iron coffin. Edmund hears the echo of a rumbling of squeaky metal and in the mirror an iron sarcophagus erupts from his shadow. The image of a frowning maiden can be seen on the lid.

"Dearest Ronove, You're looking wonderful today. I apologise for not meeting the conditions. I want to take you outside the city, to run free and prove to me you still have it. I'm planning a trip to the Outside and there is much to do before we set out. I have need of your swiftness. As a token of apology let me offer you this, my essence, as tribute"
[roll0]
[ROLL]1d20+23[ROLL]

Edmund is doing 1 point of ability damage to himself. (CON)
Edmund grabs a silver letter opener from the vanity and drives it through his hand silently. Mercury-like blood drips from his fingers and he holds it out behind him, the quicksilver drops disappearing into his shadow. The flesh of his mouth settles into a frown. "Thank you my dear, you are too kind."

Edmund reaches out with his mind, caressing the thoughts of those in the shop. He selects two of the apprentices and sends a rush of power into their minds, then addresses the jesters' mask hanging on the end of his bed. "They are empowered. One to gather intel, One to sow doubt. Kindly brief them if you would."
He senses the Lady of the house and Lucy in the family dwelling on the second floor. He walks down the steps, every movement precise and measured, each step flowing into the next. Edmund empowers the mother and daughter and calls out to them. "Good morning my dears, isn't it just such a lovely day. I have a special task for you two. It's been too long since you've had a chance to gossip." He tosses a small pouch of silver onto the table. "Please, treat yourselves, enjoy the day. Find out who the most eligible young nobleman is. Lucy, come here. My you look beautiful today." Edmund crouches down and puts a hand under her chin. "Your job today is extra special. I need you to make some friends. Find out who the rich kids are, who the bullies are, befriend everyone you can." Edmund strides over to the pantry and pulls out a small wicker basket loaded to the brim with sweets. He gives it to the little girl. "Remember to be generous, there's always more candy. If anyone gives you trouble you tell them uncle edmund will give them all they can eat if they're nice to you."

Edmund descends the steps to the ground floor where the apprentices are being briefed by the mask. He looks at the two unempowered devoured.
<Guard the shop, but above all guard the smith. He is crucial.>

Edmund pulls his leather gloves over his hands and walks outside, humming to himself. He softly mutters "Brings, brings, tell me some things. Where could you be today?" He walks through the town with a lively step, keeping an eye out for his cohort.


Inf + Esp [roll1] First minion discrediting miners
Esp +1 [roll2] Second minion gathering info
Reduced Esp+1 [roll3] Lucy making friends (circumstantial candy bonus)
Reduced Esp [roll4] Lady smith gossiping
Reduced Esp [roll5] Mr Brings report

[cameronpants]

The Miner Guild has a decent reputation. Though few of their more devoted fans live close enough to the Red Festival to drink there regularly.
Versus Discredit Miners: [roll0]

The Red Festival is rife with rumors and loose lips.
Versus Gather Info about Dragon: [roll1]

Times are hard for many families in the Arvorloft district. Lucy is able to find several tykes willing to befriend her for candy.
Versus Make Friends: [roll2]

Lady hasn't been in the social scene as much lately, which makes other housewives and gossip hounds all the more willing to listen.
Versus Lady Gossip: [roll3]

Brings is usually easy to find. He keeps his eyes on you most of the time. This is the difficulty for him to get a message to Rayus.
Versus Rayus Messenger: [roll4]


The heckling from your apostle is greeted with jeers and laughter. The general vibe in the Festival tonight is one of reverie and carelessness; nobody takes the seriously enough for it to adversely affect the Miner's Guild.
You get a -1 to all rolls to affect the Miner's Guild for the rest of the turn.

The second apostle had much greater success. He found an elderly gentleman by the name of Noah Grandt whose nephew was one of the miners who went missing last month.
You learn of the dragon's existence and a general description of the creature. Noah tracked down a few of the miners who worked with his nephew and learned of the existence of the continually-rotting monstrous beast. He didn't believe it at first, but over time he began to accept it. You can make 2 Statements about things Noah heard about the dragon.

Lucy immediately makes a half dozen friends, three of which accompany her back to the silversmith shop.
Lucy successfully makes friends. You get +1 Espionage to a single roll next phase. Also, you get two Statements about who her friends are and what they know.

Lady socializes adequately, but there seem to be two matters that dwarf her ability to lay any seeds for future gossip. The Alkanen family's estranged son came back to town last week and seems to be making a splash by slumming with his old childhood friends, and one of the Priests of the Rising Son, a militant church that helps the farmers with harvests and policing their land, left the order to get engaged to a baker's widow.
Lady fails to sow seeds or gather intel about any prominent individuals other than the two mentioned in the existing gossip. The Alkanen family is getting a lot of attention, so may not be the best choice to pursue

Mr. Brings provides a quick rundown of the state of the city. Nothing unwholesome to report. The Miner's Guild is chasing a contract with the city for extended coal production, the Church of the Rising Sun is looking for a new recruit to replace Brother Ralsh, the City Militia had an incident in their training barracks that resulted in a sergeant suffering a life-threatening wound, the City Orbsmen sent two of their members to a city to the North to help quell some minor rioting happening over the city council's recent re-establishing of slavery support, and the Knights of Throstfell have a tournament coming up in two months.


The Miner's Guild is your current interest, so Mr. Brings provides a watchful eye on their upper crust.

The Church of the Rising Sun is a militant religious group that helps provide seed exchanges, protection, and harvesting aid to farmers in the Borderlands. They always have exactly forty members and one Archbishop. With Brother Ralsh leaving to marry, they will need to recruit and train a new member.

The City Militia is the town guards and local arm of the military.

The City Orbsmen are the detectives and officers of the town guard and military. Each carries a faintly glowing glass orb as a sign of their office. Each orb is unique. None are sure if the orbs are magic or not, and they do not consort with citizens unless they are on a case. There are twelve Orbsmen, and two are currently abroad.

Knights of Throstfell are the branch of the local Duke's personal army. They outrank the town guard and militia, and are approximately equal rank with the Orbsmen. They don't interact with many citizens, usually only the upper crust of the nobility and the Orbsmen. The Orbsmen and the Knights work well together and respect one another; there are rumours that some of the Knights will be replaced after the upcoming tournament, so this dynamic may change.


Mr. Brings is, however, unable to get to Rayus to relay a message and ask the question. Rayus is currently indisposed, working his way into potentially getting one of his Flock to be the next member of the Church of the Rising Sun.
No communication with Rayus is possible next Phase


((If you want, we can finish the first Day with a conversation between you and Brings. That way you can get a bit more information about the things I listed.))

[Feralgeist]

Mid-morning, town square.

Edmund discovers Mr. Brings watching a fountain-building in progress. "Ah my friend, it is good to see you. What's this latest endeavour?" They exchange pleasantries and small talk until Edmund decides to ask the question that caused him to find Brings. "I hate to burden you Mr. Brings but is not by chance i speak to you today. I need you to try and get in touch with Rayus if you can. I've dreamed of a terrible beast that lurks outside these city walls somewhere. It has the reek of the undead. If you find him....forgive me. When you find him, if you can get to him, ask Rayus what he knows about sourcing holy water. I will await news at the jewlery store tonight if you find the time.If you come across Rothlo, please tell him i asked for him to stop by tonight as well if he can make it."

After some more conversation they shake hands and part ways. Edmund taking a shortcut through a nearby alley while Mr. Brings goes off on one of those strange winding paths only he seems to know about.

Mid-afternoon, back at the shop.

Edmund is showing a necklace to a fairly plain woman with a sour-looking expression who is dithering over the choice when Lucy comes in trailing friends.
"Frankly madam i don't see it making a bit of difference one way or the other. Buy it or don't. Good day." Edmund briefly exerts his will, planting a psionic attraction in her mind. (DC 14) He turns and faces Lucy and her friends. "My dear, You've returned, and with friends! How lovely. Why don't you take them upstairs for lunch, I'll be with you shortly." He whispers into her mind <Bring them to the attic. Show them the mask, tell them it is a secret game to try it on. Take turns donning it in front of the mirror. Tell them how good they look, the mask will do the rest. Make me proud, girl.>
Edmund continues to talk to customers in the shop, sighing with relief when he feels the trickle of power flow to him from upstairs.


Early evening, back of the workshop.

Edmund relaxes on one of the stuffed chairs dragged in from the display room, swirling a glass of brandy and brimming with satiation while he listens to his apprentices report.

"They just would not listen, sir. I have failed you." The first one flatly reports.

<You'll get another chance. Clean the shop and get some sleep.> As edmund revokes his fragment of self the young man's eyes go dull, his expression featureless. He bows and walks off to fetch a broom.

The second apprentice steps forward."The dragon is real sire, I met someone who was related to a young man who went missing. The old man told me two things. First; the dragon lives in an uncovered tomb, deep within a mine. He says there were bodies in there that aren't human. The second thing he told me is that in every instance the dragon has been confirmed to have taken someone a pair of humanoid tracks is always found next to the clawed prints. Either the dragon can manipulate people like you can sire, or someone is working with it."

Edmund releases the cup of brandy he hasn't taken a sip of and it floats over to the apostle, who grabs it. <You've done well. The rest of the evening is yours. Tomorrow, you're on sales.>
As the apprentice walks away Edmund looks at the Jesters' Mask that is sliding out of the mirror behind a nearby display shelf like a face slowly rising from a pool of still water. <That was delicious. How did our little Lucy do? Let the Lady Smith enjoy her husband tonight. She tried, and Lucy surpassed my expectations with her find. Watch over the children, instruct them in their new roles. I will attend them soon.> After its' reply the mask slides backwards through the mirror and its reflection drifts off upwards.

A booming knock sounds at the front door. "Come in Rothlo!"Edmund yells from the back of the shop. "You! Let him in before he breaks it." He says to the apprentice with the broom.

[cameronpants]

[roll0]
If success, she doesn't buy it, and is slightly insulted as she leaves.
If failure, she buys it, and promises to come back next month for another piece. You make a tidy profit of five gold, eight silver.

The apprentice quickly unbolts and opens the door in the rear of the workshop, sliding to the side with his eyes cast down as Rothlo sweeps in.

Rothlo is tall, lean, and menacing. His eyes are cold as steel. His hair and beard are well-kept, if a little long, and his mouth is a perpetual frown. He is late-middle-aged, with crow's feet ringing his eyes and gray hair speckled with a dark brown that complete a package of an exhausted, retired man. That steel in his eyes, however, seems to have hardened over his life. You know from your late-night conversations over bourbon and mutton that he's seen more than he would readily admit of the world and its atrocities.

Rothlo doesn't acknowledge the apprentice as he scurries out from behind the door to pull a chair out for Rothlo, nor when the apprentice hurries back to the door to close it against the crisp spring evening.

"Disconcerting, that." Rothlo starts. He slowly pulls out a pipe and fills it with rolled, dried tobacco leafs. He raises an eyebrow by way of asking for permission, but lights the pipe before you answer. "How your man bleeds out of the city. I've seen magic in my time, but nothing quite so... potent. It doesn't seem to tax him at all." Rothlo takes a few puffs from the pipe, pulling the flame from the lit switch held in his gnarled fingers into the bowl, and plumes of thick, purple-tinted smoke lift free from the creases of his mouth and nostrils. The smoke is pleasant, sweet-smelling and rich. It reminds you of something on the edge of perception. Before the memory can form, Rothlo continues.

"Brings said you wanted to see me. I understand this will be a request for aid- I'm in a good mood this week, and I'm partial to saying yes. However, there's something I'd like in return from you, as usual." You have developed a fair understanding with Rothlo; you get what you give with him. It's fitting to you, comfortable, having your efforts and favors reflected perfectly by the aged tavern-keeper. "Neighbour of mine, name of Josen, found himself on the wrong side of Silvertooth. Wasn't his fault, mind you. His brother owed the old dog some money. His brother had no kids, no wife, no family- something he lied to Silvertooth about. So Silvertooth, ever the savvy business man, checked around and found Josen was the closest living relative. Now, I'm not in the best standing with Silvertooth, ever since I beat him senseless for his men touching Addy- she's fine by the way, says hi- so I'm in need of an outside party to speak on behalf of Josen. Thought maybe one of your made-men could swing by, sort things out. Might get a spot of rough-housing, might not. What do you say?"

The pipe crackles, smoke plumes, and Rothlo sits back in the plush chair in your foyer, relaxing against the soft leather pads.

[Feralgeist]

Mid-evening, the workshop.

Edmund casually extends a hand and the bourbon bottle floats from its' customary place on the liquor stand to his fingers. He twists out the cork and pours it into a large tumbler. An apprentice takes it from him and offers it to Rothlo.
"We all pay a price for our gifts. Brings is no exception. He's heavily invested in this town. There's a power in that, but it's as much a shackle as a freedom. He is a bird within a finely gilded cage. Imagine what he'd be like if he learned how to fly..."

He comes out of his reverie as Rothlo explains the situation.
"Young Adeleine, that delicate little flower growing amongst the weeds. I swindled some doxy matron today. Give Addy this, with my regards, when you see her next." He tosses Rothlo a pouch of coin containing 5 gold, 8 silver. He strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"Our goals for once are aligned, dear Rothlo. We're off to the bogs this evening, to go see Kreg. He's been doing good work with the older recuits, i saw them in action the other week. Took on a bandit chief with satisfactorily visceral results. The dragon is real Rothlo, the one from my dreams. We are going to slay it and harvest its' power. I need you with me because i suspect a necromancer to be aiding it."

Edmund pinches the bridge of his nose. "I know how much Addy and the kids mean to you old friend. You practically half-raised them from how often I've seen them over at your place. I've had mixed results utilizing the devoured tonight.....No. I'll see to this one personally. Wait here, have a drink, make yourself at home. Let's see...where is Silvertooth?"

Edmund stands up and adroitly pulls off his right glove. His hand has 2 different tattoos on it, one around the finger like a ring, the other a tribal looking band around his wrist. He caresses the band on his finger and it shimmers and writhes slightly. Edmund starts slowly rotating on the spot until his finds the right direction. "This won't take but a moment." A nearby full-length mirror begins to shimmer and ripple. Edmund pulls his glove back on and strides towards the mirror, disappearing into the glass. The Jesters' mask floats into view and emerges from the mirror. ~Rothlo......how nice to see you. Staying out of trouble? I've been playing the most wonderful game.......I've made some friends.~ The mask floats closer and orbits Rothlo slowly, its crystal eyes twinkling eerily in the reflected candlelight.
~He may trust you, but never forget that I am always watching. You may be with us, but you are not one of us. Betray him once, lead him into a trap...Just give me a reason and I'll devour the remaining half of your soul. You may be immune to my abilities but there is more to a man than what's inside. Everybody has family.....Good evening Mr. Smith. I do so love our little talks.~ The mask floats back into the mirror world.

Upstairs in the attic.

The psicrystal emerges from the mirror in the attic, it's face a cheery grin full of mirth.
~Well done children, that was a fantastic game! I would clap if i had the hands.~ It laughs whimsically. "Tonight we're going to have a sleepover! But your families might worry....Tell me all about them, so we can have one of the boys downstairs take a letter home for you. I'd hate for someone to think something bad happened to you...~

Brutus looks at the mask dully and replies ""Ain't nobody looking for me. I'm trash." Lucy puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're my new brother, Brutus. None of my family is trash! Got it?" Brutus nods slowly, his brow furrowed in thought.

Lexi pipes up next. "My father lives by the docks. the tenements in Bogside near the wall, not the nice part in Quayside with the fresh ocean breeze. His fishing days are long past since his sight left him, now he works as a blind netter."

~Not to worry, child. We'lllet him know where you are. How about you take your new friends to see him tomorrow?~ Lexis' dim eyes turn towards the mask. "I think he'd like that."

The mask floats down in front of Sam. He seems oddly clear headed for one under so much compulsion.~And what of you boy? Who do you belong to?~

Sam looks down and says "I have always belonged to the master." He thinks hard and looks at Lucy. "She is my master. I belong to Miss Lucy."

He scratches at his neck and as his shirtsleeve slips down the mask notices the myriad of puncture wounds in various states of healing on the boys' neck and wrists.
~Ahhhh, I see. Something to watch out for....Don't worry my boy, you're in a better place now. Fresh air and sunshine will do you a world of good, I think.~
[roll0]

[Feralgeist]

Mid-evening, Silvertooths' office

Edmund emerges from a mirror in a nearby room, wrapped in the ghostly mists of the Gossamer. He walks through the walls until he enters Silvertooths' office and sees the man sitting at his desk.
"Ronove, my dearest. The door, if you would." Edmund positions himself in a place behind the man and flickers into reality for a fraction of a moment, just long enough to weave some magics and Ronove to shut the door, locking it with a click.

Wrapped in the mists once more Edmund walks through the desk and spins around, facing the man. His eyes flare chrome and his collar shimmers with silvery light as he appears right in front of Silvertooth.
"Don't call out for help, don't reach under your desk. We are going to have a little chat and you are going to listen to every word i say." He straightens up and adjusts his collar, his eyes flaring again.
"Ahem. My name is Mr. Doppel, and i believe you know an associate of mine, Rothlo of Smith. He is quite rough around the edges, but I'm sure a man like you can appreciate the need for a man like that. He has sent me here on behalf of his neighbour Josen, whose brother i believe owes you some debts. I am not here to dispute the debt, but to take responsibility for it. I would like to redress this insult to your organization with an offer of business, as well as a personal gift. I am a jeweler by trade, and i have heard you sometimes deal in items that are somewhat.....second-hand. I would like to offer my services in having such items reworked to erase their trail, for a modest fee of course, once Josens foolish brothers' debt has been repaid. Until that time we will work off his debt, or if you'd rather i can pay you out tomorrow. I'm looking to expand my business and i would much rather do so as your ally, instead of a competitor. We can all benefit from this misunderstanding. Please consider it carefully and send one of your men to my establishment with your answer, as well as your measurements. Regardless of your answer I have an ensemble in mind that would make a man like you inspire pure awe. I've been looking for someone with bearing, with real countenance. Yes, you would be simply magnificent, good sir. Think on it....Here's my card. I'll show myself out." Silvertooth looks down at the table to glance at the card. When he looks back up, Edmund is gone and his door is wide open.

Diplomacy Skill focus Roll: [roll0] [roll1]
Actions
Ethereal Jaunt + Far hand + Forced Quiet (DC 14)

Ethereal Jaunt + Suggestion (DC 16) + Psionic Charm (DC 14)

Detect Desires, Bungle (DC 14)


Back at the shop.

Edmund returns through the mirror and sits down in his chair looking pleased with himself. "I don't think Josen has to worry anymore, consider the matter resolved my friend." His face turns slightly more serious. "However, if his brother keeps doing this to him, You know I'll have to take him eventually. Things like this are a liability, and i can't afford liabilities like that yet. I am not strong enough. You look troubled....Is something wrong?" Edmund looks at his friend with genuine concern.

[cameronpants]

Mid-evening, the workshop.

Rothlo ponders on your words a moment. He takes the bag of money from you with mild reluctance; he has debated with you enough times to understand you are difficult to reason with when you set your mind to something.

"Good ol' Kreg, eh? Haven't had a chance to catch up with him for a while." Rothlo rolls his shoulders and adjusts his coat. "Yourself? That sounds... like more than I expected. He lives at 23 Cobbler avenue. Old brick number, high fence around it. His office is on the second floor."

Rothlo watches you leave via the mirror with the same carefully held fascination and fear he always does, no matter how many times he sees you do it.


Attic.

((This is the Mask's information. Should Edmund be told of it, he gets another, different roll.))
The mask knows of rumors about such denizens of the Gossamer. It is said that emotions, if experienced with great intensity, can exit their makers and live in the Between as roaming predators. Sometimes, these entities combine with others of similar tone and intensity. Once combined, these gestalts have a clearer sense of self-awareness and self-determination. They can travel to the World along waves of psychic emotion. Once in the Material, they find a host and possess it. This grants the creature a variety of intense, constant emotions, and sometimes newfound powers to go with them.

The blood of the living is a potent connection to the Material, one that a gestalt Feelform might indulge in to remain tethered and powerful.

Mid-evening, Silvertooth's office


[20] vs Forced Quiet
[14] vs Suggestion
[9] vs Charm
[16] vs Bungle

Effects: He succumbs to the Charm and the Suggestion. Is the suggestion to join forces as business partners?




Silvertooth is a handsome man, with dusty brown skin and high brows. He seems slightly effeminate, but when he speaks his voice is deep and rich. You vaguely remember seeing men with green eyes and skin as his before, in the deep south beyond the Wasteland. You can't seem to remember the name of his people.
"Verily, Mr. Doppel." Is all the man says before you depart. You hear him say something else, but the words are lost as you walk away.

Back at the shop.

"Thank you," Rothlo responds. As you speak, he seems to darken, and his mouth twists into something of a snarl.
"If you could have taken him, I would have condoned it. The converting of men who deserve it is one thing..." Lucy's giggle faintly echoes down the stairs, accompanied by shuffling feet. "...but children, Edmund? You've removed their souls before they even had a chance to know life? I... It's a bit much, even for you."
As Edmund considers responding, Rothlo holds up a hand. "Just... give me a minute."
He screws his eyes shut and takes a long drag from his pipe. As he lets is escape, he breathes out too forcefully, evoking a short, gruff coughing fit. He takes another few moments to study the edge of the desk and the lintel of the nearby window.
"Josen's brother is dead." Rothlo resumes, as if nothing had happened. "That's why the debt got shuffled to him. It ain't law-bound, and Josen's no fool, but he's also not wealthy. He couldn't afford the bribe to the police or the barrister's cost to defend himself against Silvertooth. Man's got a deathgrip on the lower-East, and about a dozen sailing vessels to boot. He's no pushover, either. Rumor is he's got a soothsayer stashed away in the hold of one of his ships."
Rothlo taps the bowl of his pipe out and stows it in his coat. He levers himself to his feet, the creaks and groans he attempts to muffle indicating just how old he really is.
"I'll go collect my things. I'll be back in under an hour."

[Feralgeist]

As Rothlo exits the mask slides up onto the mirrored table next to Edmund.

~You see, I told you. He doesn't trust us. He will betray us. You need to-~
Edmund puts up a hand, shushing the mask.
"Do you take me for a fool, Laughlyn?
The mask shifts to a frown with a tinkling of crystal and it shifts to inside the reflective table, speaking from the mirror world.
~No master, I just think we shou-~
Edmund rounds on the mask, his eyes fully chrome and blazing with silvery light. The sigil on his wrist writhes and shimmers, enveloping his hand from fingertip to elbow. The tattooed skin shifts and becomes reflective and chrome-covered. He reaches into the mirror world and grabs the mask, wrenching it back out and gripping it tightly. "I have told you before that Rothlo is not to be taken! His family is not to be touched! If he takes favour to a ****ing sewer rat we will defend it against our enemies! Defy me again and I will shatter you. I can always grow a new mask. Do we understand one another?"
The mask shifts to a solemn expression.
~Perfectly, Master.....~

Edmund releases the mask and it starts to float upstairs. Edmund dismisses the sigil and reaches out with his mind to contact the smith as his skin returns to normal. <You have a commission. Design a pair of silver vambraces with retractable blades, a silver embossed dagger scabbard and a silver necklace. It's for a man. Incorporate teeth or fangs into the design. Let me know if you require help.>

Edmund flickers into the Gossamer and floats upstairs, reappearing in the attic. He casts his gaze over the children ,whispering the words that let him detect their desires and their families.
"You have done wonderfully, Lucy my girl. Hello children, welcome to the family. I am Uncle Edmund." He ruffles Brutus' hair. "I sense greatness in you boy, . you were simply born in the wrong place at the wrong time. A hundred years ago in another nation you'd have been a conqueror. You'll fit in well with us."
Brutus squints at Edmund. "You're wrong sir. People tell me I got orcsblood in me. I don't even know who my da is."

Edmund crouches down with a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye. "You want to know a secret? Neither do I. I happen to have met an orc once and trust me, you are nothing like them."

He turns to face Lexi. "Dear girl, i can see you're a crafty one. One doesn't get nimble fingers like that for nothing. If you need some spending money, simply ask. We are family now, I'll see your father taken care of."
Lexis' face turns red and she puts the silver letter opener back onto the vanity. "I'm sorry."
Edmund crosses the space between them in an eye blink and wraps her in a hug. "Nono, there now...Don't you dare change, you're perfect. Just remember to steal for us, not from us. Go into the display room tomorrow and pick out your two favourite things. They are yours to keep."


He finally turns to face Sam, who has sat down and is folding a pile of laundry he brought up from Lucys room.
"My goodness.....You've seen so much for one so young." He steps over and puts his hands on sams, stopping him from his task. "You're not going to be a slave here, you don't have to do that."
Sam shrugs his hands out of Edmunds and glares at him fiercely. "I want to. Lucy is my master now, I will protect her from everything I can. Even messy linens."
Edmunds smile widens. "So be it, young Goodfellow. You take care of her, she's very special to me."
Edmund stands up and paces to the edge of the room.
"I'm off to the bogs tonight, dear children. Lucy, take Laughlyn with you when you visit Lexis' father tomorrow. If you get into trouble tell him to get me, I'll be just on the other side of the wall. Enjoy your evening, we have great things ahead of us, starting tomorrow." Edmund clicks a finger and an apprentice comes in bearing a few trays of food. Edmund descends the steps and heads back to the parlour at the back of the workshop, sitting down to wait for Rothlo.
<Ronove. That little one. He's a vessel waiting to be filled! I want you to teach him. I release you from your binding this night, go take some time to think on it. I know it's been a long time since you've had a pupil. Watch over him from the Gossamer, determine his potential. Give me your answer when next i call you, It'll be in the appropriate place next time, I promise.>
With a wave of his hand Edmund dismisses their bond, leaving himself feeling slightly diminished.

[cameronpants]

Ronove nods and smiles, drifting away as she solidifies. She moves with a flowing grace you've not seen in a mortal before. She was not mortal, however, but you knew that she was, once. Many centuries ago.

Rothlo returns after forty minutes. The silversmith has finished the vambraces and is halfway through the claw motif on the amulet when Rothlo let's himself in through the back door.

He is clothed in a deep red cloak of a thick, light fabric. Clinched about his shoulders with two wide gold clips in the shape of ravens, it cascades behind him as he walks, rippling on waves in the sit barely felt by the skin. His tall, hard boots have bands of gleaming metal on them, well-oiled and ringing with the sound of war with each footfall. He carries a gleaming gold and red helmet under an arm: composed of a mask with a long bladed nose with antlers, like a horrific combination between a deer and a gladiator.

His armor is bronze lamellar, with wide, flared pauldrons and a dark red crest criss crossing the breast. At his upper hip is a long, curved sword in scabbard; across his back a massive, dark wood shield; and held in a hand is a bladed composite bow of some intricate and exotic design. under his shield is a quiver with a score of arrows, black as midnight and heavily scented of earth and sulfur, and an array of hatchets and blades rest in a bandoleer across his massive, armored chest.

"Ready." Rothlo grunts. His posture is more severe, his countenance more confident than his usual. You are now seeing the Sorcerer-Slayer side of Rothlo, rather than the Tavern-Keeper side. The disparity is startling, even for you. You've only seen Rothlo in such regalia twice before. The first time when he came to murder you in combat, and the second when you first forayed into the swamps when he met Kreg. Since then, he's not bothered to fully adorn himself on your trips abroad. Something must be sitting on his mind for him to fully equip himself with all his weaponry. Some of which, you know, is blessed, others cursed, and most of it layered with such ancient and intricate magics that it predates most magical theory you've come across. Rothlo's innate resistance to magic- and disconnection from the Outer Planes- provides him a unique ability to wield such baubles and armaments without suffering their (usually deadly) side effects.

You can make your rolls after we do the Swamp mission. I don't want you to know the results until you return to town. You don't actually need to roll for the Silversmith's creation of those silver items if it's for Kreg; I'm not clear on your intention with those items. If that's the case, your Company does not need to roll at all, as you are not attempting to exert influence on another Company or outsider, merely your own stewards.

I will begin a new thread for site-based adventures. This will be a rather short one, most likely including a mere three encounters, one of which being the social engagement with Kreg, G-F-L, and his crew.

Helmet like this, but imagine it gleaming gold and dark red:
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/24/dd/d2/24ddd23d5e3fcc07818e6005ad81eb6f.jpg

[Feralgeist]

Edmund stands up and one of the apprentices shrugs into an armored coat hanging on a rack, equipping himself. He approaches and picks up Edmunds traveling pack, eyes clear. "Ready boss."
Edmund telepathically sends the address of Silvertooths office to the smith. <When you are finished, send it to that address as soon as you can.>
Edmund concentrates and exerts his will, empowering everyone in the building before broadcasting to the building under his control. <Be safe, be civil. Any intruders, notify Laughlyn. Good evening to you all.>
The second they exit the door a carriage rolls up, driven by one of the apprentices. The apprentice in the coat swaps places with him and the former driver heads inside. Edmund smiles "Perfect timing my boy. Help yourself to some brandy." He imbues the figure before it heads inside. Edmund strides over to the carriage and opens the door with a flourish, gesturing to the relatively luxurious interior to Rothlo. "I don't need my gifts to know how you feel about the mirror world. I've made arrangements this time around."
Once they're inside Edmund relaxes and helps himself to a bottle of whiskey stashed inside under a cushion, uncorking the bottle with his teeth and taking a few gulps till his eyes water. He checks himself and sets the bottle down, sighing with relief. He offers the bottle to Rothlo as the carriage sets off.
"About the children....Have I ever told you why I'm here? I mean in this world, not this city. I mean to stay, Rothlo. Stay for good. I'll never father children, you know. I need to look towards the future. For a man so long-lived as you, my friend, you sometimes seem to have trouble grasping the bigger picture. I mean really. Take away their souls?" He raises an eyebrow. "For one that is beyond me. I take their reflections, a fate not so permanent as you might think. Brings was a fluke, I'll admit, plus there may have been a couple of glitches with Kreg and his baroness but look at Rayus! I am getting better." He takes back the bottle from Rothlo and swigs deep before offering it again.
"Lucy isn't my victim, Rothlo. She's my protege. Did you see her friends? A bastard whoreson most would take for a monster, A paupers klepto daughter and a boy who looked like a ****ing Outsiders' chew toy!" He calms down from his excitement and adjusts his collar, then tucks a stray lock of hair back into place.
"I will give each of them a life they could scarcely even dream of had they never met me. Just watch, dear Rothlo. I am right about the dragon.....In time you'll see that I'm right about this too." Edmund gazes out the window and listens to Laughlyns telepathic relay of what the children are doing and saying until they are a mile away.