[IC] A Few Good Crooks

[Toilet Cobra]

It’s a hot and humid summer’s day in the city of Daggermark. The air is muggy and foul with the smells of the slums. Flies and no-see-ums are everywhere, bedeviling man and animal alike. The city’s laborers toil breathlessly in the heat, praying for even a scant cooling breeze to cross their brows.

But in the city’s inner wall, the Dagger Keep, the most powerful and prestigious members of society do not toil. Politicians, bankers, merchant lords; they do not sweat as they go comfortably about their days. And among these comfortable men walk the thieves, those who seek to take that easy life for themselves, through guile or force.

A trio of couriers are dispatched from one of the finer alehouses. Their destinations vary, but their delivery is identical: a simple sealed note, and a tiny parcel to accompany it.

One by one, the couriers seek you out, in the slums or in the finer neighborhoods. Wherever they go, they walk unmolested; couriers, bonded by the city and bearing its mark on their breast, are protected by the watchful eye of the formidable Assassin's guild. Only the most foolish or desperate thief would consider robbing them, knowing that they must certainly flee for their life afterward.

When the couriers find you (no mean feat for three people who wish to remain anonymous), you open the note, curious to see who has gone to such lengths to contact you. There is no signature, and the message reads:

I have a proposition to share with you. An opportunity for great wealth is in the offing, for those bold and cunning enough to seize it. If this matter has piqued your interest, meet with us tonight at sundown in the third-floor stateroom of the Tipsy Troll. Present this token to the man at the door and you will be permitted entry. Come alone.

The ‘token,’ found in the small accompanying parcel, is an unadorned ring of hammered brass. Most men wouldn’t look twice at such a cheap, poorly made piece of jewelry, but a member of the Underworld knows that it is much more than it appears. The ring is a Devil’s Due, a magical bauble carrying a powerful enchantment compelling loyalty and silence-- the perfect defense against traitors infiltrating a criminal conspiracy. Each of you has seen or heard of such a device at one time or another, but you’ve never before had the need for such an expensive safeguard in the many jobs you’ve taken. Whomever has sent you this message must be confident of an enormous score if they’re willing to pay for such security.

Intrigued, amused, or perhaps merely hungry for coin, you decide to seek out your patron at the Troll. Sundown is in a few hours-- just enough time to put a few things in order and make your way through Dagger Keep and find this meeting place.

You each have a little while to take care of any business-- last minute shopping, orders to your underlings, putting an alibi in place, or what have you. Your first post should detail any preparations you choose to make, and then take you to the Tipsy Troll, a well-appointed and out-of-the-way alehouse, where a burly guard waits outside the stateroom door. You’ll need to wear the Devil’s Due to gain entry.

If you wish to know more about the Devil’s Due, you may make a Knowledge: History or Arcana check if you are trained in either of those skills. All you know by reputation is that these rings come in groups, and anyone who puts it on is compelled to honor any agreements made to others wearing the companion rings. You’re not sure how, but you’ve also heard that the ring prevents anyone wearing it from betraying any other ringbearers.

They are safe to wear, supposedly, so long as you don’t make any promises you don’t intend to keep.

[Space Lawyer]

Aoukar reads the letter, and examines the brass ring rolling around in his hand. Apparently he hadn't been quite as subtle and unnoticed as he'd hoped. Then again, this was Daggermark; it'd be unusual for the criminal element not to have noticed a newcomer. Being noticed also seemed to have worked out in his favor. Someone with the resources to put towards simply sending out magical rings had the backing to put together a major job. This could be Aoukar's shot at a big break.

He slips the ring, chuckling to himself. Well, maybe there are at least a few people walking around the city now who won't be able to put a knife in my back. He takes the time to consider his books and make himself presentable. He puts on his arms and armor - nobody looked twice at half-orc ready for violence short of all-out war. He places his tools, extracts, and supplies in his bandolier; the note didn't mention if time was of the essence, and he wanted to be prepared. A heavy cloak and a scarf to obscure his features, and he was ready to go.

Aoukar locks his chest, with most of the valuables hidden below. He had a habit of leaving a few silver pieces up top just in case anyone managed to bust the lock, in the hope that it would dissuade the thief from looking any closer. Aoukar's room did a decent job itself of dissuading intruders. It was cheap and bare, in the slums of town, but Aoukar had paid for a few security modifications. A stout door, a good lock, and bars over the windows made casual criminality difficult.

However, the most trustworthy security was his landlady, Yellow Sal. Her hair long faded to gray from the luxurious blonde locks that gave her her name, Sal was everything a criminal could want in a landlady. She understood the inconsistent nature of income, kept tabs on any interlopers, and had selective amnesia when it came to the activities and identities of her tenants. It also didn't hurt that she was wicked fast with the knives she kept tucked away. As he comes down the stairs, Aoukar says "Heading out, Sal. Looks like it might be payday."
"Oh, alright then. Try not to get yourself killed. I couldn't sell half your stuff for anything near enough to cover my trouble, hahaha!" the old woman cackles.

Aoukar takes a roundabout way to the Tipsy Troll to ensure he isn't being followed. He arrives shortly before sunset, and takes time to observe the scene before going in. This could have all just been a setup. After a bit though, Aoukar is satisfied there is nobody taking an undue interest in the tavern. He enters the tavern and makes his way up to third floor. Upon encountering the guard, he simply holds his hand up to show the ring.

[Llyarden]

"Well, now," Vash murmured to herself, reading over the note and turning the devil's due over in her hands. "Ain't this a fancy old way of saying 'I got a job for you'?"

She couldn't help but notice Matthias behind her, looking up from his own work slicing herbs up for preparation in one of his poultices, obviously curious about why someone thought her important enough to hire one of the city's official couriers but clearly not wanting to learn that his lodger was once again about to go out and commit one crime or another. "Your herbs are gonna go dry if you just stare at 'em," she pointed out, a friendly smile taking most of the sting out of her words. Though she often poked fun at him, she was careful not to rib him too much - she knew letting her stay was going to some degree against his morals, and she needed a place to stay a lot more than he needed her reputation to protect him.

Preparing for the evening meeting didn't take her long. Mostly it consisted of tidying the more dangerous of the vials that sat in the study Matthias was letting her use away into a chest, although she left one specific vial sitting on the table. With a note attached reading 'in case of emergencies' and looking for all the world like a potion vial, Vash's hope was that any would-be thief would drink it before figuring out what it actually was. (She had, of course, drilled it into Matthias that whatever happened he shouldn't drink the thing. At first he hadn't quite realised just how dangerous all the chemicals she messed around with were, until she'd given up trying to just convince him and let him drink one of her less dangerous - less dangerous meaning in this case that it didn't have any lasting effects - serums. He'd had a healthy respect for unlabeled vials after that, though he kept coming up with various reasons why she shouldn't try to trick people into drinking something dangerous. The fact that those hypothetical people would be robbing her didn't seem to affect his judgement.)

She decided not to wear her heavy armour. Partly because showing up armed and armoured to the teeth would probably have given the wrong impression, but also because if the job turned out to be a trap it would have slowed down her escape.

She arrived at the tavern a few minutes early, dressed in her lighter suit armour, with a thigh-length cloak with innumerable pockets holding the various vials she carried around with her, and a floppy-brimmed hat hiding her face from casual inspection. The devil's due ring was in a pocket - she didn't want to put that on yet until she needed to. Being compelled into doing something she didn't want to was not high on her to-do list.

[Elyander]

Grin smiles as his hands shuffled the cards with uncanny speed. The woman in front of him smiles back, but the man accompanying her has the clear look of distrust. With his joyful voice, Grin starts talking to the couple: "Now, sir, I understand you may be a bit unsure," he says, looking at the woman with understanding eyes , "but the Harrow Deck has been used for centuries in Varisia and is a very sensitive instrument. Miss Abott may tell you we have done this multiple times with outstanding results, but I fear the negativity may skew my readings this time." The man looks unimpressed, but the woman is quick in demanding him some room so the session goes well. Just as the man take some steps away, watching the boy angrily, Grin notices the official courier. With a subtle gesture asking for a few mintues, he looks back at the woman with his name-giving grin. "Now, Miss Abott, let's see what the cards have to say about your daughter..."

A couple of minutes later, the woman gives Grin a couple of silvers and drags her escort away, trying to muffle his protests. Just as soon as they turn their backs, Grin walks towards the courier and takes the letter with a smile. "Thank you for the patience," he says, giving the courier the same coins he's just got. He then runs through the narrow alleys to his small cottage, entering his home with a hint of excitement. Who would send Grin such a simple-looking note by an official courier? He quickly reads the message, a smirk forming on his face as he reads the puzzling instructions. Grasping the brass ring, he quickly analyze its magical properties. "Oh, my! This is quite an interesting object, isn't it?" he thinks to himself, slowly sliding the ring on his finger. "Seems I must prepare myself for a good impression, then."

The first thing Glyntos does is taking a bath, carefully scrubbing his skin and brushing his hair. Once he's clean, he puts a simple undergarment and sits by his small table, quickly flipping through his trusted Harrow Deck. He knows one shouldn't make a Harrowing for oneself, as hubris and hopes may blur the reading, but a simple draw for some insight never hurts. Shuffling with agility, he lets his mind become clear as he focus on the cards. He concentrates on his question, "What expects me in this meeting?", and lets his hand be attracted to the card with the answer. The card shows a serious man in black and red robes, a chain around his nexk and a book on his hand. The Inquisitor. "Ahh, I see. A truthful encounter, it seems. Appropriate," he considers, looking once more at the ring.

He then starts dressing, first donning his armor and then covering it with assorted fabric and pieces of clothing. Visually enticing yet not too flashy, with enough details to distract and folds to hide his things. He pockets a deck of cards, slides his small potion pouch to the side and puts his enchanted gloves. To finish it up, a matching hat and his sword cane. He looks well and, honestly, not dangerous at all, which is just how he intended. His last preparation is a simple glimmer on his face, changing the color of his hair to a dark brown, and his eyes to deep green, while simultaneously enlarging his nose and ears while shortening his mouth. Just enough magic that he cannot be identified after the meeting, but not enough to draw attention. Satisfied with his work, as always, he takes to the street a few minutes before sundown.

His stroll is calm and poised, the shadow of a smile on his face as he marches towards the Tipsy Troll. He walks inside confidently, going straight towards the stairs to the meeting place, apparently distracted with his cane but actually noticing the night attendants. Approaching the door to the stateroom, he salutes the guard with a smile. "Good evening, sir. It's indeed a lovely evening for a walk, is it not?" he says, bowing slightly before raising his hand to show the ring. "I believe I am being expected," he finishes, not waiting for the man's answer before continuing towards the door without hesitation.



http://i.imgur.com/MxibrBo.png

Glyntos has drawn the Inquisitor for his Harrowed feat.

That means at any one time for the rest of that day, he may apply a +2 bonus on any d20 roll modified by the card’s suit, which is Intelligence.

He also used Fearsome Guise to disguise himself, the second trick he used for the day (the first was being Grin on the streets.)

[Toilet Cobra]

The guard, a scar-faced, hirsuite man with a hint of the sea about him, lets you enter one by one. He doesn't ask questions, nor answer your hails; he merely checks to see that you bear the Devil's Due and then lets you inside.

You arrive within minutes of each other, each trying to gauge your host's intentions. The stateroom itself is a soaring hall that occupies the entire third floor of the inn. A long feasting table runs down its center, with smaller tables in the wings. With the sun having just set, the room lies dark, with only a few small candles hanging from iron sconces to weakly illuminate the chamber. The light casts strange shadows on the room's otherwise festive trappings; tapestries and hunting trophies hung on the walls take on a sinister dimension in the semidarkness.

At the end of the long table, a cloaked man sits quietly. His face is shrouded by a rough cloth, pulled up just far enough that he can nurse the flagon of ale that sits by his right hand. Near where he sits lies a handful of scrolls, a jar of ink and a simple quill; otherwise the immense table is bare.

He motions you each to enter and sit. Aoukar is the first to enter, followed shortly by Vash. Glyntos, smiling and walking jauntily, brings up the rear.

"Lady and Gentlemen," the man rasps by way of introduction. "Thank you all for accepting my invitation. The matter I wish to discuss is of the utmost secrecy, so, before we begin, let us make sure we are all to be trusted."

He holds up his left hand, and the Devil's Due on his ring finger glints darkly in the candlelight. Glyntos and Aoukar both raise their hands in turn. Vash, meanwhile, crosses her arms.

"I understand your caution," the masked man says. "But the only oath I will ask you to accept is this: that none of us here ever reveal what was discussed tonight, nor the identities of anyone involved in the discussion. If those terms are acceptable, then none of you have anything to fear from the Devil's Due. If not, I must ask you to leave before we speak any further."

Vash hesitates, but she had not intended to rat out anyone here, oath or no oath. Reluctantly she dons the ring, and as she does, a flicker of ghostly blue light shines on the hands of the four conspirators. It lasts only a moment before fading, but you all know that the oath is struck; none of you may speak of this night to any outsiders, nor identify the other ring-wearers, on pain of death.

Now bound to secrecy, the man removes his simple mask and cloak. You see a young man, likely a half-elf to judge by his sharp features, with a seafarer's tanned complexion and blonde, tousled locks. His eyes glimmer with eagerness and a smile crosses his lips.

"For the record," he says, in a smooth voice completely unlike the one he was just speaking with, "this room has been barred from magical surveillance. The owner is an old friend, and trustworthy. And Jim, the man guarding the door, is a deaf-mute. We may speak freely amongst ourselves. So let's get to business.

My name is Gilder, and you may know me by reputation. I was once a thief of some skill, though I have been relaxing in semi-retirement for years. But I still have ears throughout the city, and word has come to me of a great opportunity. Already there have been bribes paid, finders' fees, and other sundry costs, but even after all those expenses, I estimate we may take as much as twelve thousand gold marks apiece."

Now it is clear why Gilder paid for the security of the rings. Twelve thousand each! Enough to buy a grand manor in the Dagger Keep, or any number of luxuries... a more frugal person, who wanted to be merely rich, could live on that amount for the rest of their days.

[Space Lawyer]

Aoukar goes a bit wide-eyed at the enormous sum being advertised. He had thought to maybe use this job to get into the prime scores, but that much would send him beyond the actual need for doing a job of any sort for the rest of his life! If he felt even the slightest bit industrious, he could set himself up as a merchant, or a crime lord - not that the two roles were particularly different in his mind.

In an attempt to cover his surprise, and give himself a bit of time to consider before greed made a fool of him, Aoukar pulls a cigar from a tube on his bandolier and lights it with a tindertwig. He pulls on it deep and slow, to give the impression of a man who is in no hurry to make a decision. "Well, you've certainly got my attention with that. What sort of job is this?"

[Llyarden]

Vash gave a low whistle at the sum Gilder mentioned, annoyance at the enchantment being put upon her diminishing. "Well, that bein' the case, reckon it's a pleasure to meet you, Gilder," she said, depositing her hat on the table (as much so she could see her partners in crime more clearly as much as a gesture of goodwill) and glancing between the other two. A tough-looking half-orc and a friendly-looking halfling who was probably some sort of wizard or something, judging from the lack of obvious weaponry or armour. "Name's Vash," she added, more to the other two than Gilder, who she assumed knew her name.

"Oh yeah, what he said," she added after a moment, nodding to the half-orc. "The hells is it we're doin' that's gonna make us round about fifty thousand gold?"

[Elyander]

Glyntos walks in with his carefree demeanor as always, taking his seat at the table. He calmly listens to the diaolgue taking place, amused by his mysterious companions. With a quick glance, he evaluates the people around, checking their rings to make sure no foul play was in order and taking notes of positioning and escape routes. His mind falters a bit after the man's introduction, as Gilder was a reknown name around the city. And when he says the huge amount of gold in play, Glyntos feels the room's mood changing, as well as his own excitation growing. His face was, however, still displaying the same smile he had when he first crossed the door.

The other two guests jump in with their own questions, of course, leaving Glyntos the last one to react. Carefuly removing his hat and smoothing his hair - it's all about the first impressions - the halfling rests both hands on his lap and grins. "Before anything, let me congratulate you for a perfect presentation, Mister Gilder. It's an honor watching a master using his skills, really. The ending was brilliant. The vast sum followed by a sudden stop was powerful enough to both hugely impress and yet pick the interest of us all. Truly a wonderful presentation," he says the last part more to himself than to the others. "Well, since introductions are in order, I'm currently Glyntos Tosscobble the Third, despite being probably the first one with such a name," he chuckles before proceeding, "I'd say we are all equally intrigued by your offering, Mr. Gilder - such an exorbitant amount! I reckon this is where your second act begins. The exposition!" he says with another chuckle, resting back onto his chair and focusing on the host.

[Toilet Cobra]

Gilder smiles and inclines his head at Glyntos' compliment. "I'm gratified to see you share my appreciation for stagecraft, Master Tosscobble," he says grandly. "I'm confident you'll all find that my proposal stands on its own, but it never hurts to perfect one's presentation."

"The job, in short, is waylaying a shipment of goods-- a concept I'm sure you're all familiar with. But let me first describe our potential windfall, before getting into the difficulties in acquiring it." He unrolls one of his scrolls and holds it up in the light. "One of my associates is a political aide to a member of our city's nobility. He told me that there was a rumor going around that a wealthy, highly-placed man was intending to leave Daggermark, and take his entire household with him when he left.

Naturally, I was intrigued. A few favors and a well-placed bribe to the man's chief butler got me this scroll: an inventory of all the items currently being prepared for transport at his household. Much of the list is personal effects or household items not worth the trouble to take: rugs, blankets, fine dishes, a personal portrait. Clothes, common books, wines of unimpressive vintage. Not worth our time.

But among all the dreck lie hidden treasures. Potions. Precious stones, including opals, emeralds, and diamond dust, along with various unworked gemstones. Scrolls and spellbooks. A few enchanted objects of middling power but impressive street value. And our main target: two crates of bullion, one of gold, and one of platinum. Depending on the specifics, such as the variety of potions and the volatility of the spellbook market, you may find that my estimate of our potential profit was in fact conservative."

He passes the list to Aoukar for inspection, and the half-orc examines it quietly before passing it along to Vash. It is indeed a long and comprehensive list; apparently the unnamed gentleman who owns the manor intends to gut his entire home of nearly all its furnishings when he leaves.

"I am close to the best fences in all the River Kingdoms," Gilder claims, "and I am confident of a good rate of return on the art objects and gemstones. And of course, the bullion we can keep for its street value.

That's the good news," he concludes. "Now we move on to the bad. Before I do, though, have you any questions or concerns regarding the haul iteslf?"

[Llyarden]

"Spellbooks, huh?" Vash asked, scanning the list over quickly and rapidly getting lost in the innumerable items before giving up and handing it on to Glyntoss. Unless the mark's one of those idiots who collects 'em to look smart, that means we'll be dealing with magical opposition.

"Yeah, I got a couple questions," she replied, "though maybe you'll be answerin' 'em in a moment. If we're tryin' to lug boxes of gold and platinum out of the place, I assume this ain't gonna be some sort of hit and run affair?"

Aqua regia would dissolve 'em both, she mused to herself, as she paused to let the others ask whatever questions they wanted to, and that ain't hard to make. Then just need some kinda acid that'd dissolve all the ---- people try to pass off as gold or platinum that dissolves in aqua regia too but not the real deal. That oughta do for making sure we're not risking our lives for worthless brass.

[Space Lawyer]

Aoukar nods appreciatively at the inventory. It would certainly be enough to make the promised payoff. "I've got none myself. We'll have to make our own estimations of value when we see the loot, of course; I'd not expect a workman to see a flawed gemstone is worth less than a fine rug." The obscenely wealthy were vain creatures, and they would commonly put their wealth towards where it would be most public. Aoukar had once pinched a ring from a man purported to fabulously wealthy, only to discover what everyone thought was a massive diamond was just a cheap crystal with a minor glamor woven over it. "Oh, and the name is Aoukar, by the way, though most call me Lumps."

[Elyander]

Glyntos doesn't look even remotely interested in the scroll. He would have time for that later, and he knows pretty well everything said would be there. And if there was something more interesting not mentioned in his presentation, it would surely not be written. The rings prevented betrayal, but hiding things without intent of harming was likely not prevented by its magic. Simply smiling, Glyntos looks at woman.

"Judging by his words, I imagine it will unfortunately be far more complicated than that, Miss Vash," he says gently with his childish voice, turning to the half-orc, "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lumps. Such a curious epithet must have an entertaining story, I bet. I'd love to hear it later, but right now I'm afraid I'm too anxious to hear what expects us in this particular endeavor. Mr. Gilder, a big reward likely comes after a big challenge, does it not?"

[Toilet Cobra]

"The challenge will be great, indeed," Gilder acknowledges. "Commensurate with the potential reward."

Addressing Vash, he continues. "Transporting the metal is a unique difficulty, but one our mark has kindly solved for us. Allow me to elaborate.

Our target is the manse of Horus the Starwise. That name, I'm sure, you're all familiar with. Archmage Starwise has been second-adviser to the Lord of Daggermark for years, and I suppose he's finally grown weary of being ignored in favor of the Assassins, the Poisoners, and even that crude dwarven brute who heads the Army. He's intending to resign his post at the end of the month, and be gone the same day. That means he, and all his wealth, will be out of the city in less than three weeks. I do not yet know his destination, but suffice to say he will be gone from Daggermark, and thus out of our reach."

Nineteen days until month's end. Plenty of time to plan and execute a simple job, but stealing from even a novice wizard is never simple. And this is the Archmage, no less! It's said that he's one of the strongest magic-wielders in all the River Kingdoms, and his ambition and temper match his arcane skill. It's also said he treats with demons and djinn, and that Lord Livondar gives him criminals to torture with cruel experiments... or just for his own twisted fun. If even half the rumors are true, it would be suicide to be caught in the act of robbing such a man's household!

While you mull that last point over, Gilder continues. "The Archmage's plan, relayed to me by his servants, is not to send his possessions by caravan. Too slow for a nobleman who's used to the world turning on his finger." Gilder unrolls a second parchment, placing it between you all on the table. The parchment features a crude blueprint of what appears to be a great mansion: two wings, servants quarters, courtyard, surrounding wall, and more, with copious details and notes scrawled around each area. Gilder taps a room in the eastern wing with his finger, a small library of some sort. A small red oval is drawn in the center of the room.

"The Archmage has use of a strange and powerful artifact, a Well of Many Worlds. They are quite a rarity, and you may not be familiar with the name. In essence, it is a hole in the world through which one can pass to any plane. The Archmage is supposedly a master in its use, and can cause it to open wherever he wishes on Golarion as well. He intends to simply point it at his new home, and have his servants wheel through his belongings, crate after crate."

Gilder smiles, and taps the parchment for emphasis. "And here lies the crux of my plan, friends. We will change the Well's destination, pointing it to a new location of our choosing. And with the Archmage none the wiser, his dutiful servants will deliver all his earthly wealth right to us!"

He leans back, beaming, clearly proud of himself. The man certainly doesn't lack for ambition, or brass for that matter. Although Gilder stands there basking as if all are in agreement, you look between the faces of your other companions and see flickers of unease. This job seems, at least at first glance, to be both wickedly complex and phenomenally dangerous. It would take thieves with both skill and a devil's luck to pull it off. But on the other hand, twelve thousand gold marks is a lot of money...

[Llyarden]

"So...lemme get this straight. The plan is to wait for Starwise to switch on this Well thing, and then in between him turning it on and his servants chuckin' stuff into it, get in there, change it to send everythin' somewhere else, and hope he don't come back to look in the meantime. And then once everything's gone through, get in again and switch it back to point at his house so he don't notice that it's pointing the wrong way when he comes back to turn the damn thing off."

"Oh, this is gonna be a pain, ain't it?" Vash sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Do you at least know whether or not people can go through this thing? 'Cos if he decides to sends a couple of guards through to check everything's goin' okay - or if he's expectin' someone to pop through from the other side to say that they've got the crates - we're gonna be in a whole heap of trouble."

[Toilet Cobra]

"Oh yes," he says. "Men can walk through it easily, carrying whatever they wish. The Well allows open, two-way transit through its portal. We'll have to find a way to ensure that the servants who come inside don't immediately come back out, shouting an alarm." Gilder inclines his head respectfully towards Aoukar. "We could always cosh them over the head, I suppose, though I would hope that a more elegant solution can be found."

"The Well of Many Worlds is a bit of a mystery," Gilder admits. "But as I understand it, no magic is required to change its destination. Any time its physical location is changed--even if only by a centimeter-- it chooses a new location for its portal. So we will just need to physically move the Well after Horus has set his destination. And I believe I can gain us an opportunity to do so.

As you can imagine, the Archmage has many political enemies," he says with a shrug. "This is Daggermark, after all. That is why he has elected to leave with haste, and in secret. Well, I believe I can engineer a little distraction to delay him. The right words in the right ears, and Horus will be dragged back to the Keep to explain himself. They may even make him sit in a formal hearing, and if they do, he'll be away from his mansion for hours. Time aplenty to make our alterations to the Well and take the goods."

The Well of Many Worlds is a strange and complicated piece of magic; luckily you guys know quite a bit about it!

*The Well takes the form of a black circle, six feet in diameter, similar to a portable hole. When unrolled and placed vertically (most commonly, when hung on a wall) the portal opens to a random place in the multiverse. At the destination, a black portal can be seen hovering in place, but the Well can't be touched or moved from the 'exit' side; you can pass through the portal again but you can't change its destination from the 'exit.' You can't see from one side through to the other without passing through the portal.

*The open portal lasts as long as the Well remains in one place. There is no duration limit, nor a limit to how many people can move through the portal. The Well's destination is essentially random, chosen each time it is moved to a new spot.

*The Well was once considered an artifact of legendary Azlant, but in recent centuries the secret to its creation was rediscovered, and although they are not at all common, some new Wells have appeared since that time. Most, however, are treasures from a bygone era, and quite priceless.

*Someone with great patience or very deep knowledge of the Planes can get the Well to open to a specific plane of their choosing, by carefully determining the proper position to place the Well. In order to get the portal to open not only on a plane of your choosing but at a specific point on that plane would require monstrously difficult calculations, probably beyond what even a brilliant wizard could accomplish on their own.

[Space Lawyer]

"Aye, a better solution will have to be found, though it'll take some careful thought to arrive at one." A powerful illusion might do the trick, though the servants of a powerful wizard might not be susceptible to such a ploy. More information was needed. "It'll definitely be a high-preparation job; anything goes wrong in those few hours, we're good as dead. We're going to need to have the place well scoped out first, a through casing. Do we have a way in, or at least a good map?"

[Toilet Cobra]

"This is the best I have so far, though it is fairly thorough," Gilder says, indicating the parchment laid out before you. "The grounds are completely encircled by the wall-- twenty feet tall, tipped with spikes and broken glass, and patrolled by guards around the clock. The front gate and the servant's entrance are the only breaches, though I've had it confirmed that both are arcane locked to prevent entry. The front gate is under constant watch, and the servant's entrance opens right into their housing. We might have some luck trying the sewers, though..." he chuckles ruefully. "Let's just hope that isn't our best option.

Once inside the house itself, my information becomes less detailed. I know that more guards stand at certain doors, and walk certain rooms, but I don't know how many. Servants, of course, go about the entire house, and they'd be quick to notice any strange faces. If there are spells or other guardians to contend with, I don't know of them, but I think both are likely in the Archmage's house.

In my estimation, the greatest weakness of the estate is the man's servants. They are men and women of Daggermark, and I don't believe they have much love for their master. Perhaps they know more. If we find out where they drink, and get them complaining about their employer, many roads may open to us." He nods at Grin. "Though drawing them out would be a delicate matter, best handled by someone with grace and charm."

[Elyander]

Glyntos listens to the conversation calmly with a smile. It soundes the two other guests are already inclined to accept the offering, which could be good. He was still unsure of their particular skills, but they should be on his own level if all three were summoned, which should be enough. As Gilder nods to him mentioning his expertise, Glytnos' smile widens.

"Oh, but of course! Getting people to talk when they shouldn't is a particular knack of mine," he says, more to his companions than to Gilder. "Servants are by far the best source of information regarding the manor, but that's not all we need to know, is it now? The right butler or guard might now details about the security, the crew who will be carrying the haul, the timeline... perhaps even the destination. And since I doubt the Archmage will relocate all his servants with himself - people have families and lives in Daggermark, after all - we can easily find someone unhappy enough with their soon-to-be unemployment to share a few things over a pint of ale or cup of bourbon. That's the easy part," he says confidently to the group.

"The most challenging aspect in my opinion has not been mentioned yet, however. Given the apparent unpredictability of the artifact, we should find a manner to determine exactly how to move the Well. It would not help us if, instead of a mansion somewhere, we were trying to deliver the haul to a desert on the other side of the continent, would it?" he stops, smiling to his companions as if he had just told a joke. "I fear my knowledge of the arcane arts is not that refined. But if we can change it to somewhere more similar to the original - and closer to us as well, so we can more readily reclaim our spoils - I can make sure we'll have no problems if someone comes though. Except, of course, the Archmage himself, but I think Mister Gilder has given us a satisfying solution for that concern," he finishes, finally noding back at their host.

[Toilet Cobra]

"Then I believe it is agreed," Gilder says, "that what we require now is more information. Master Aoukar, we trust you to handle dispatching the team as needed to gather it. For my part, I will be working in the background, but I have contacts throughout the city that may be useful. If you have questions, and do not know where to find the answers, I can put it to my friends and see what they say... though of course even 'friends' have their price."

He shows you his final parchment, an itemized list of bribes paid and sundry costs; everything that has been spent so far in bringing you together and procuring what information he has for you. "An operation like this can't be completed without some expenses; as they say in the Five Helms, 'you have to spend money to make money.' I will be keeping track of everything we spend in the course of executing this job, and ensure that all is repaid before we divvy up the spoils." He holds up his hand once more, the Devil's Due glinting on his ring finger. "No one need worry about being cheated, as we have these to keep us honest. If we need to procure weapons or equipment, hire a master forger or locksmith, rent a room, spread a bribe... all debts will be covered in the end. Assuming our heist is successful, of course."

"So then. If we are all pledged to this course..." he nods at Aoukar, "How then to proceed?"

Just nineteen days remain until the loot is out of your grasp, so your time must be spent wisely.

Aoukar has the job of figuring out what needs to be done, with input from the group, and assigning people to their tasks (himself included). Those crew members then use their skills to get it done, however they think best.

For example, Lumps might say "Grin, go talk to a servant at the mansion, find out how exactly the Well of Many Worlds is controlled." Then it's up to Grin to figure out the best way to do that. This is of course a collaborative process, and the whole team could suggest ways for him to get it done, but Grin would have final say, since it'd be his neck on the line.

If you don't have an assignment, then you can use your time however you see fit. At this stage, essentially everything helps and it'd be difficult to put the job in jeopardy even with a major error. Independent research or resource gathering can open up a lot of new options for the plan.

As for Gilder, he's taking a background role in this job. Go to him with any logistical needs-- "Gilder, we need a wheelbarrow" or "Gilder, we need a city guard's uniform" and he can get it done. Relying on Gilder is usually a safe bet, but generally a price has to be paid. None of his contacts work for free, and few of them accept promises or favors.

That said, it's time to get crackin'! You know at least some of the questions that need answers, now go get 'em! Remember, nineteen days!

[Space Lawyer]

Lumps looks pensively at the documents in silence for a few long seconds.Alright, Lumps, this is your moment. You wanted an opportunity, and this is it. Don't screw it up. Quick but not hasty, prudent but not overcautious, acquisitive but not greedy - just like Hervor taught you.

He picks up the blueprint of the mansion. "Alright. We've gotta know what we're doing before we do anything. Knowledge is power and all that. We've got three goals to start with - the Well, the layout, and the people.
First, we need to figure out how the Well works. We'll need to talk to someone with more magical know-how than any of us. Luckily, wizards tend to have some common traits. They're like a pit of vipers; they tend not to like each other, and they'll bite at a rival given the chance, and they're arrogant, never passing up an opportunity to show why they're the smartest spellslinger around. We can arrange a talk with some of Starwise's magical peers. The ones near his power are most likely to know what we need to learn, so we'll start there. If need be, we can intimate that helping us will hurt Starwise. If they don't know, we work our way down through lesser scholars and arcanists.

Second, we need a better map. We need to know where each and every thing is in this place. I want every step we have to take planned out, and options for when it all goes to s***. I don't want us running around this place looking for an exit with an angry wizard and a bunch of guards after us.

Third, we need to know who we're dealing with. I believe Glider can get us started there, but we need to do better. We need to know who works there, when they get there, what they do, everything. Most importantly, we need to know their weak spots - if they can be bribed, threatened, enticed, whatever needs to be done to persuade them to cooperate.

So, those seem like our first goals. Any input?"

[Elyander]

Glyntos looks curiously as the half-orc speaks. "Well, well, well... Aren't you quite a loquacious half-orc?" he thinks to himself, paying attention to the man's words. The summary was good, albeit a bit longwinded, but he explained the most pressing issues indeed. With a smile, Glyntos speaks.

"That was a perfect outline of our situation, Mr. Lumps. I concur with your overall analysis, although I disagree with some of the methods," he says gently in his boyish voice, before waving his hand as if dismissing the subject. "We will have time to discuss that, though. I'd like to propose a more immediate action, one that would greatly help the plotting of our heist. I think it would be in the interest of us all if we knew a bit better about each other, in particular, what kind of..." he stops, fakily pretending to think of a word, "...expertise we bring to the table. Since it's my proposition, I would gladly begin, of course."

He moves his hat in a flippant way, mimicking a bow. "While I introduced myself as Glyntos, I go by many names, most of which are not famous at all, just as intended" he says with a mischievous smile. "I'm afraid I don't have many skills besides a certain discoursal finesse. I believe I am, as called in this line of work, a Face, a social individual tasked with gathering information by way of gossip, chatter and a little bit of slander," his smile gets even more impish. "To help me with that, I have acquired a bit of magical knowledge, mostly in the area of little charms and illusions, besides some local rapport with a few personalities and a handful of cards. People love talking over gambles and fortune-telling, both things I'm quite proficient with," he shows a Harrow deck, effortlessly shuffling the cards mid-air before putting it back in his pocket."That means I'm really adequate for dealing with our third goal. I could have information on the manor and its people in less than two days, I reckon."

He finally stops talking, a grin still in his face as he gestures towards the other two unknowns, allowing them to decide who would go next.

[Llyarden]

Not so much of a dumb brute, huh, Vash reflected, as the half-orc set out

"You got any real power with that thing?" Vash asked, nodding at the Harrow deck. She'd seen legitimate seers a couple of times before - more than enough to know that someone with the ability to divine the future, however vaguely, would be extremely useful.

However Glyntos responded, she continued. "Mostly I'm good at gettin' in scrapes and coming out the other end on top of the other guy. But I've learnt a bit 'bout alchemy in the meanwhile, and I know enough about anatomy and stuff to make sure peoples' wounds don't get infected and ----." It might have been noticeable that she seemed to have taken it as a given that someone was going to get hurt. "Not the best at 'discretion' and all that, though," she admitted after a moment. Though Glyntos hadn't mentioned it, knowing what each other were not capable of was, perhaps, even more useful than knowing what they were.

[Elyander]

Glyntos chuckles at Vash's question. "A few," he says simply, taking another deck from a pocket, this time a mundane one. "I can take some insight of what fate has planned, but usually in the broadest of ways. Just enough to see how well things might turn, but fate is fickle and changes quite often, I'm afraid. I'm experimenting some divination practices to make its magic a little more potent, but it has eluded me so far." He suddenly picks a single card, holding between his fingers and with a quick motion of his hands, making it vanish. "Just like that. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, however," he says, making the card come into view again as a faint burst of light seems to fill it, before he hastily throw it at a wall, the card penetrating deep into the wood, only a quarter of it not buried. "And not only the parlor variety," he finishes with a grin.

"But, oh, don't sell yourself so short, Miss Vash! Those skills may not be immediately useful, but they are by far the most valuable if things go sour," he says honestly to the woman. "I'm not that much of a fighter, as you may imagine. Still, being combat-savvy gives you a practical acumen we may otherwise lack, and that is primordial in our endeavor. As Mister Lumps pointed out, we need to plan our steps around the house and I believe that vision of yours could aid us with that. Choke points, pincer maneuveurs, trebuchets... Honestly, I know not what a single one of those terms mean, yet I know they take part in geographical strategy, don't they? I usually just beguile my way out of predicaments, and perhaps that won't be possible in this,"" he says matter-of-factly. "I believe you could go for the map, as it's where your talents will be better applied. And given Mister Lumps' extensive picture of arcane practicioners, I suppose he is apt for the particular venture about the Well. Isn't it right, Mister Lumps?" Glytnos ask, suddenly beaming at the half-orc.

[Space Lawyer]

Lumps gives a wry grin. The halfling was quick. "Heh, you might say that. Not quite as dumb as I look. I've tried to learn a little about everything, and a lot about a few things. You never know what is going to come in handy. Sometimes I get flashes of insight too. Never quit watching and learning, and you'd be surprised what comes to you." He pats his bandolier, then the ornate morningstar at his side "I can swing this with some skill, though I'd venture not as well as you could, Vash. I've no small talent in alchemy as well." He then gestures to his face, and sweeps his hands to encompass his entierty. "And as you can see, I don't so much look the part of a conniver. Good for being underestimated. That and some clever words let me talk people into things they'd ordinarily not be inclined to. Though, once again, I'd venture that you have more skill in that area, Glytnos. I'd say my role here is to keep a watch out, and help you two as it's needed."

[Elyander]

"Magnificent!" Glyntos says, clapping his hands once to empower his words. "I believe we have quite a capable tandem, which could make our efforts bear fruit. Now, we need to plan our first steps carefully, gentlemen. And lady," he adds charmingly, nodding to Vash. "The information we are able to gather at this point is paramount, and might as well decide the sucess or failure of our undertaking. With that in mind, I believe we should start by discussing the methods we'll use to acquire the intelligence. Mister Lumps has summarized our needs, so allow me to tackle them in order."

Raising a finger, he starts his count. "First, we need to understand the artifact. While I concur we may get such data on the more experienced wizards of the city, I believe it's not in our interest to allow them even a hint of our plans. In my years, I've learned people in high positions are just as likely to betray their kin as they are to connive with them for some future advantage. We can't have the misfortune of allowing a glimpse of our intentions to reach the Archmage, after all," he says with a smile, as if he was planning a simple surprise party. "No, no. We can't! I believe we should use more... subtle methods to get this intel. As you've brilliantly pointed out, Mister Lumps, conjurors have a commom flaw: arrogance. Fake ignorance and throw some insidious adulation, and they will line up to share their knowledge, attempting to prove their clearly superior minds. That might be just as conducive as direct questionings, while not yielding them any of our own secrets."

He raises a second finger, this time turning back to Vash. "Secondly, we need to know about the mansion and its outskirts. I believe Miss Vash' eyes would be of great use in a scanning of the outter wall, looking for flaws in security and easy routes in and out of the area. As for a map, that's where I figurativelly hit a wall," he says, chuckling to himself. "I reckon some copies of it may be present at a Builder's Guild or some, but that could be very hard to get. I'm hoping someone will throw some light into this particular mystery," he looks around the table, expectantly. "Oh, of course, we could get some features from the folk who work inside, but that would never be detailed. And that falls into the last point, anyway. My own act," he says with a bit of pride.

"Third, we talk. That's really it, basically. Getting information from people is surprisingly simple when you start with some already. One of my talents is pretending I'm someone both unthreatening and forgetable. I can stand around the gates, see who goes in and out, follow them a bit, even engage in minor conversation. And with those small tidbits, I can lately engage them as a different person, painlessly conducting dialogues to extract the material I desire. We simply decide what's needed to discern, and I get it done," he finishes confidently, laying back on the chair.

[Space Lawyer]

"All very good points, my diminutive compatriot." Lumps says with a rueful smile. "I think our absolute first order of business then, is to run into the people we wish to have conversations with. We need to find out both where the high and mighty pass their time, and where Starwise's employees spend their wages. The first we approach as supplicants of one form or another, while the others might be best approached as fellow workers or other such forgettable people." The half-orc looks to Glider. "What would you have as to either of those avenues of inquiry?"

[Toilet Cobra]

"I don't know where they drink," Gilder admits, "But I do know when. Yesterday, I observed a group of them leaving the compound via the servant's entrance an hour or so after sundown. By their manner, it was clear they were knocking off for the day and intending to go carousing. Unfortunately, since I didn't wish to risk being observed, I didn't follow... stealth is not my strong suit. Plus, I wasn't attired properly to blend in with them."

"So I propose a stakeout. Master Grin, I have a small rented room on the property opposite the manor, as well as a variety of disguises for your use. You could watch from the shadows and follow any servants who emerge after nightfall.

Meanwhile, I can ask around and find us potential sources of information on the Well. The wealthier a magic-user, the more he brags; I doubt it will be difficult to ascertain whose library has the knowledge we need. We can decide how best to approach them after we've identified our potential sources."

[Elyander]

Glyntos smiles to his guest. It seems he had prepared quite a lot already. "Splendid, Mister Gilder. That is extremely conveninet, although sticking to the shadows is not how I usually operate," he says, widening his smile. "I will instead be another poor kid or beggar on the streets, someone far more inconspicuous, even as they talk and asks questions. I believe it won't take me much to know every worker at the place."

With that, Glyntos stands and puts his hat atop his head. "With that, I believe we have settled things quite niftly, haven't we?" He prepares to leave, but stops after a single step. "Ah, one more thing, if I may. You know my whereabouts for the next few days at least, yet I have no means to contact any of you. Is there something we can arrange about that?"

[Toilet Cobra]

As the meeting concludes, Gilder stands as well. "I will be frequenting this establishment," he says, "so you can contact me here most evenings. But let us meet again, exactly where we are now, three nights hence. We'll compare the information we've gathered and decide how to proceed further."

"Well!" he says happily, raising his flagon. The ring on his finger gleams brightly in the candlelight. "I for one am greatly heartened by what I've heard tonight, and I'm glad to proceed in your company. To your health, lady and gentlemen, and to all of us good fortune!"

Gilder drains his cup and then once more dons his sackcloth shroud. One by one you leave, and your host gives the doorman a hefty tip as you exit, hopefully buying his secrecy. You filter out separately into the humid night, minds buzzing, eager to begin the first phase of your plan. With luck, in just a few weeks, the job will be concluded and you'll all be richer than you'd ever dared to hope!

You each have your own unique abilities, and different crowds you can try to blend into if you choose. Gilder is going to speak to his contacts, and each of you can try to do your own form of information gathering.

For your next post, detail anything else you want to get done tonight, and then move us onward to the next day's activities. You'll all be going solo at this point, so feel free to do your own thing without needing to consult the rest of the gang.

[Space Lawyer]

Lumps stretches his wide shoulders once outside. "Well then, until tomorrow. I'll be back here after sunset to see if Gilder has come up with anything. Before then, you'll be able to find me around Starwise's house; I want to get a lay of the land before we start making our way inwards."

[Elyander]

Flyntos smiles at the words of his companions, removing his hat to bow once more. "Very well, my fellow conspirators. Until we meet again!" he says, before walking out of the room. He leaves the establishment calmly, walking slowly through the alleys before suddenly darting forward, and releasing the illusory veil around him. After a few wrong turns and turnbacks, all in order to confuse possible onlookers, he takes the path to his own house, a smile on his face. "This definetely looks like fun," is the last thing he thinks before entering his home.



The next day comes quickly, and Flyntos is already up when the sun rises. He carries a small bag of clothes, all dirty and old, as he leaves his tiny cottage, the glamer of a teenaged boy covering his true shape as he makes his way to the front gate of the target. He would be using the house prepared by Gilder, of course, but seeing the servants coming would be fine for now. He sets a wooden box near the place, arranging the cards atop it and starting his usual routine. "A new day arrives, ladies and gentlemen, no better time than now to see what Fate has in store for you, is it?" he yells, trying to get some customers while subtly watching the entrance. The game had started.

[Toilet Cobra]

Grin

Up with the dawn, Grin is quickly in place and hustling his game. He bilks a handful of silver pennies from the rubes, but he isn't there for small change. The true prize is whatever presents itself at the servants' entrance, just down the street from where he's set up.

One thing that quickly becomes clear is that the Archmage doesn't believe in paying for high-quality help. A manor of this size easily justifies a dozen live-in servants, a butler, and (if the master liked to throw parties) a large kitchen staff and a sommelier, all of whom would be housed on the grounds.

But as Grin watches, he sees that the servants' entrance opens frequently to admit maids, washer-women, and at one point a gardener, all before noon, and all workers of the roughest sort. The same dour servant (a middle-aged human man, broad-shouldered but portly, wearing a frock coat and wig) opens the door each time, and Grin notices a crucial detail: all the outside servants that pass into the grounds get only the quickest glance of recognition from the gatekeeper. Perhaps he knows these women well, and recognizes them immediately. Or perhaps he just does not take his duties seriously.

Grin's watch continues throughout the afternoon. Finally his patience is rewarded: a gaggle of men emerge from the servants' entrance, clearly knocking off for the day. Each wears the same frock coat, but their wigs are abandoned and their cravats are loosened. It's clear from their boisterous manner that they are off to carouse, and Grin prepares to follow them.

Before he does, however, he spots another figure heading in the opposite direction: a very finely-dressed gnomish fellow is moving quickly up the street. Unlike the humans, it is clear his uniform is carefully maintained, and also of a higher quality; there are flashes of ivory buttons and a shining fob on a silver chain dangles from his pocket. Also unlike the humans, this dandy gentleman's face is pure murder. He has a look of intense anger on his face, and he's practically stomping up the road as he leaves.

Hmm. Humans headed for a post-work drink were among the easiest marks in the world, and likely had a great deal to say. But then, what of this gnome? If his anger happened to be directed at his employer, he might be prepared to say a great deal. But since their paths were diverging, Grin would have to choose whom to follow, and choose quickly.

Grin's rolls weren't particularly helpful, unfortunately, so he he only sees the most superficial stuff for now. But he's got much of the daily routine down. He knows who goes in and out of the grounds on a normal day, and when.

If you'd like to follow either of these parties, you may be able to get some more specific information about the grounds. Also, Grin made 2gp in mixed change from hustling the crowds today.

[Space Lawyer]

Lumps starts his day early, walking the lanes around Starwise's manor. Every now and then, he opens a journal, noting down his observations. He draws a map of the surrounding areas, paying special attention to lines of sight and exit routes. He also begins to draw the manor itself. While he couldn't see inside, there was a lot to be learned about the interior of a building by observing the exterior. He takes note of any guards, when and where they are sighted.

Taking 20 on Perception (28) and Profession: Criminal (24).
Perception adds [roll0] for inspiration, and a +1 for noticing traps.

Satisfied that he has learned everything he can for now without making himself obvious, Lumps heads towards the Builder's Guild guildhall. It was time to look for the plans. He rubs a bit of dirt across his cheeks and brow, and really packs it in under his fingernails. A quick punch to a stone wall gives his knuckles the scraped appearance of a mason's, while a bit of sawdust from the street outside a carpenter gives him a woody odor. Aye, he seemed the very picture of a belabored builder's apprentice. He goes into the guildhall, looking for clues to the location of such plans, or someone who might know.

[Toilet Cobra]

Lumps

Aoukar spends a long time observing the perimeter of the Archmage's estate, and what he learns is quite telling. The wall is built more solidly and almost twice as high as its neighbors, with much newer masonry. There are narrow spikes lining the top of the wall, and a platform of some kind runs around the inner circumference-- Aoukar only knows this because he spots several guards patrolling it, watching the people below.

Aoukar counts ten guards in total, though that's just the ones he can see; there could be any number inside the wall, but he marks each face as they come and go and over the course of his long observation, he identifies ten men. They are swarthy, muscular, and have the gritty look of professional soldiers. They hold their pikes as if they know how to use them well, and would like nothing better than to do so. At one point, while walking close to the back of the estate, Aoukar hears the sound of a mock battle being held; he can't identify the participants but it sounds like a serious drill, not like some bored guards blowing off steam.

He identifies only two entrances: the main gate, a huge iron-and-oak door that could permit the largest carriage with ease; and the servants' entrance, a similarly sturdy but much narrower door located in the rear. At least three guards watch the front gate at any one time. He doesn't spot any guards standing watch over the servants' entrance, though they seem to occasionally patrol past it along the top of the wall.

While observing the estate, Aoukar notices something odd: there are no horses. A rich man's estate, even in the city, is expected to keep at least one or two horses, and more if they are as wealthy as the Archmage. Surely the man owns his own carriage, yet Aoukar can't detect the slightest whinny or whiff of manure from inside the walls.

Later, he makes his way to Builder's Guild. The Guild's property outside the city is extensive, with their quarries, warehouses, and training facilities. But inside the Dagger Keep they have just one main office, a squat stone building that adjoins a counting house and an apothecary. The inside is cramped, with each room given over to extensive records; bookshelves stuffed with ledgers and tables heaped with scrolls occupy every available space.

There are several men bustling about, but none of them appear to be in charge. Finally Aoukar locates a bespectacled old man who is seated at a rough wooden writing desk. He wears a mason's apron, and a silver mallet badge is pinned on the front. As his quill scratches quickly across his parchment, the old man doesn't even spare a glance for Aoukar until the half-orc clears his throat.

"Yes?" the man wheezes. He blows noisily into a splotched handkerchief before continuing. "What can I do for you, lad?"

[Space Lawyer]

"Ya gots ta help me, sir," Lumps says in a guttural voice with a low-class accent. I's supposed ta have the plans for the house o' a Mister Starstone, er, Starwise. Supposed to have 'em this morn, boss says. 'Cept he never told me to get 'em, but I can't tell 'im dat. He'll get all a huff, and say I'm just bein' stupid and lazy again. He'll fire me for sure, an' that snake Yusra'll get me spot! I been workin' hard for this, I can't lose it! Please, master mason sir, a bit o' help!"

Bluff: [roll0]
Diplomacy: [roll1]

[Toilet Cobra]

Lumps

Bluff vs Mason's Sense Motive: Passed
Diplomacy DC20 (Indifferent, Complicated Aid): Passed
"Sent you down here without a scrip, did he?" the man asks, frowning. "Your boss has it in for you, lad. I'd find my way to a new work detail if I was you."

Still wheezing, he pulls a blank slip of paper from his desk, scratches a few words upon it with his quill, then stamps it. "In my day we didn't play these games. If you didn't like your apprentice, you told him so flat-out. We'll, I'll have no part of it. Here," he groans, handing Aoukar the slip of paper. "Now you've got my authorization. Go see Avi in yon records room, he'll find what you seek. Good luck to you, lad."

Bowing and murmuring his thanks, Aoukar quickly slips past the man and the other masons, into a room even more packed with scrolls. They spill off shelves on every wall. Less important blueprints have been folded and squished flat or shoved between the pages of thick ledger books.

'Avi' is the name of the clerk trying in vain to organize all this mess. He looks like the younger, half-wit brother of the clerk in the other room (given the way unions work, Aoukar thinks he may very well be the other clerk's brother). He also has a silver badge on his chest, though the emblem is a chisel, not a mallet. He carefully examines Aoukar's slip before he's satisfied. Then he sets to rooting through the piles of parchment; he returns with a tightly-bound vellum scroll.

"You'll have to sign for that, apprentice," he says, pushing a ledger towards Aoukar. "You've two days to make your copies, then we need it back or your master will receive a censure."

Up to you what you write in the ledger.

Please add Detailed Manor Blueprints to your inventory! You've also got a good example of a Mason's seal on your slip, which could come in handy for forgery later.

[Space Lawyer]

"Ye've gots it sir. Have it copied and back quick. At'll show 'em." Lumps dashes out of the building, befitting both his disguise and a desire to give as little time to get a good look at him as possible. With dusk beginning to fall, he makes his way back to the inn to meet up with Glider and see what leads had been dug up. While waiting for the others to arrive, he takes the time to make precise copies of the plans and seal in his notebook.

Taking 20 to make copies/forgeries as necessary.

[Llyarden]

Vash, meanwhile, had found herself in one of the less salubrious taverns of Daggermark (of which there were, to be fair, a large number). One of the advantages of being a mercenary (and perhaps more importantly, having a reputation to uphold) was the fact that people tended to trust you, even if it was in some roundabout, confusing manner. Of course, one disadvantage was that people also tended to remember you, but this was why Vash had not chosen to wear her distinctive armour and instead rely on her knowledge of Daggermark's underbelly to give the impression of being a mercenary without necessarily divulging her identity. (Of course, the fact that the numerous spiky protrusions of the armour would, in this tavern, likely have embroiled her in five or six fights before she'd even reached a table, was a pretty good reason not to wear it as well.)

The reason she'd chosen this tavern specifically was because it was frequented by the kind of people that would think nothing of breaking into someone's house to take their possessions. She had considered the possibility that Starwise's people might for one reason or another be noted as 'off-limits' but even if that was the case, it still provided good information.

Besides, even if she found nothing out at all, there was still a pretty good chance of a fight breaking out while she was there, and all the plotting and planning - much as the logical human part of her was perfectly aware was possibly more important than the execution of the plan itself - was making her restless.

Just going to make a random assortment of rolls in the hope that some of them will be relevant.

Knowledge (local): [roll0]
Diplomacy: [roll1]
Bluff: [roll2]

[Toilet Cobra]

Vash

Vash spends about three hours canvassing the taverns, but does not beat DC 20.
Vash heads down to the lowest parts of Low Daggermark-- where the nameless taverns are identified by the smell of grog and rotgut, rather than by their shingle. Moving among the lowlifes is simple for Vash (after all, she's really only seperated from their number by a surplus of ambition and talent) and none of the daydrinkers have any cause to doubt her story. However, they also have precious little of value to offer.

People often talk when they're deep in their cups, but they don't always have anything useful to say. Although she receives several 'offers' during her inquiries, she ends up with no more information than she started.

[Toilet Cobra]

That evening, the conspiracy reconvenes in the lodge-like third floor of the Tipsy Troll. Once again Sam, the imposing and deaf dockside brawler, stands at the door, barring entry to anyone not bearing the Devil's Due. Not long after sundown, you are all gathered once more.

This time when Gilder greets you it's with greater hospitality. The kitchens bring up a slab of mutton and rashers of bread for each of you. Gilder himself produces a group of stout mugs on the table and then, incongruously, begins to fill them with champagne. Toasting your health and wealth, he takes the first drink.

"It's been quite a day, lady and gentlemen," he begins. "I've been spreading bribes amongst the neonates and arcane apprentices of the Dagger Keep since sunup, and pouring drinks down them since lunch. No takers yet, exactly-- but I was watching their eyes. Even though I never mentioned it by name, I know which ones recognized the Well when I spoke of it. And I noted which ones were wearing threadbare robes and second-hand boots. I'm positive I'll crack one soon."

Gilder's bribing, wining, and dining of potential targets has added another 200g to the expenses of this mission.
Taking another swig of fizzing liquor, he looks to Glyntos. "And you, Master Tosscobble? Was your day as fruitful, or dare I hope moreso?"

Glyntos is chewing a bite of his mutton and idly flipping Harrow cards onto the table's surface. He swirls his mug and takes a long draught before answering. "Oh, there were developments," he says coyly. "But allow me a moment to gather my thoughts-- and savor this lovely meal. Aoukar, lady Vash, why don't you speak first? And take your time. This is only my second dinner of the evening, after all, and I'd prefer not to rush."

[Space Lawyer]

Aoukar produces his journal and the blueprints from his bag. "I've had a rather productive and informative day." He relates the story of how he spent his time and the information thereby gained. "I'll need to return these plans tomorrow, or it could arouse suspicion. It'd be best to keep a low profile with the builders; they might come in handy later. And I think we'll need to get creative to gain entrance. That place is guarded well and locked tight. Odd thing about the horses too."

[Llyarden]

"Well, least some of us have done more than put up with drunken idiots," Vash muttered, not quite as under her breath as she'd perhaps intended and drinking the champagne with the obvious sign of one who didn't care how fine a vintage it was as long as it was alcoholic. "I was tryin' to find out more about Starwise's employees," she continued, at normal speaking pitch this time, "but since I ain't much of a talker I went for a less direct route. Turns out that the underbelly of this city can be damn unobservant at times. Or else Starwise's reputation has got people so scared they're afraid of putting even his bootlicks in danger."

[Toilet Cobra]

Glyntos listens carefully to the reports of his fellow conspirators, though it is clear that the lion’s share of his attention is spent on his mutton. When finally it is his turn to speak, the little halfling has already cleaned his plate and is wiping up the last spot of gravy with his breadcrust.

Finally he relaxes back into his seat, looking as content as the cat who caught the canary. He pats his pockets, seeking a tobacco pouch, but he leaves off as he notices everyone’s growing impatience.

“Well! It seems we’ve all had an interesting day,” he says, “buuuut... I’ll wager that mine will prove the most fascinating to this table. As we’d agreed, I spent my time observing the coming and going of servants from the grounds. Master Starwise seems to prefer hiring outside help, rather than retaining his own staff. This in and of itself doesn’t mean anything, but it put the idea in my head that perhaps he doesn’t hold his people in high regard. So I was on the lookout for anyone who was particularly unhappy.

And after a mostly uneventful afternoon, I noticed a rather disgruntled-looking gnome emerge from the grounds and resolved to follow him. I tracked him to his home-- one of the nicer little apartments just outside the walls of the Dagger Keep. A little quick makeup work and a change of clothes, and I was just another gnome, and I knocked on his door. He was not pleased to see me, but I pestered him for ‘news of home’ and the company of my fellows; I offered him food in exchange for talk and gave him no polite option but to accept.

We made our way to the Narrow Door-- a name which, you being tallfolk yourselves, may not recognize. But it is a frequent haunt of halflings in this city, and built to our considerations and comforts. I made sure that this gnomish fellow, whose name was Panavel, felt as at-home as possible. I filled his head with springwine and soon his whole sorry story was pouring out. Suffice to say that, despite many years of faithful service, it seems Master Starwise no longer needs his Head Curator.”

Glyntos pauses, grinning, to wet his lips with champagne and let that information sink in a bit. “Apparently, Panavel’s chief duties were attending to the Archmage’s private collection of curios, dusting the bookshelves, giving tours and the like to visiting nobility. And, my, the things he knew! Naturally, I pushed him for information on the Well of Worlds, and he was quick to tell me that the Archmage is not an expert in its use at all. In fact, the Archmage has no idea how to use the Well on his own! Instead, he leaves the calculating and positioning of his artifact to some sort of imprisoned spirit that is forced to serve him. Apparently the creature is quite brilliant, and handles its master’s calculations with ease. That is how he uses such a complex device so precisely!”

Glynos’ grin spreads wider than ever. “I had to make certain promises to procure this information,” he admits. “Panavel seeks some rather expensive revenge against the Archmage for his rude dismissal. I swore to him, one gnome to another, that Starwise would pay very dearly indeed for his ingratitude.” Chuckling, he drains the last of his mug, then holds it out to Gilder, who pours out the last of the bottle into it.

An interesting turn, indeed! Thought it raises further questions (what exactly is this creature, for example, and how tightly is it bound to serve Starwise?), it is certainly useful information. Every mind at the table buzzes with ideas of how to turn this to your advantage, Aoukar most of all.

[Space Lawyer]

A most cunning and malicious smile spreads over Lumps' brutish face. "Excellent news, Grin! Though I suspect that leaves us in the position of negotiating with the same spirit to work in our favor, we are at least provided with an opportunity to divert the Well to our chosen location. Once the arcane knowledge of Dagger Keep can be turned to our favor, we should be able to make greater headway, especially in regards to determining the nature and motivations of this spirit. Panavel should be retained as a source; he can absolutely be promised that Starwise will suffer a most embarrassing and costly comeuppance in the coming weeks.

Overall, I would say we have made good progress today. Tomorrow, we can set about more thoroughly infiltrating the staff. Given the secure nature of the manor, we can't rely on stealth to get us in, especially if we hope to go unnoticed. Instead, we'll need to be welcomed in as servants, guards, or other sorts of laborers. If we find exactly where Starwise procures these services from, I think we'll have a way in."