World's Greatest Thief IC

[Stegyre]

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/17423235/Zarahemla.jpg
Ah, a day in the life! It is the Second Earthday of Harvester (http://calendars.wikia.com/wiki/Greyhawk_Calendar), an auspicious time for farmers, which explains why the Bazaar is so crowded with stalls hawking golden maize, the juicy flesh of melons, apples sweet and tart, nectarines, oranges, . . . .

The sun is hot; the sky is clear. It is a good day to spend a little time outside of the art studio, and a great time to find bargains on fresh food!

Not everyone is happy, however: an enclosed carriage, foolishly trying to make its way through the Bazaar at a time like this, has become trapped behind a broken-down country cart. Zarinda watches while the farmer and helping hands are lifting the cart axel and trying to re-fit the wheel, when someone inside the carriage puts down the window.

The head and neck of a well-dressed, middle-aged, very attractive woman emerges, spouting a vitriol that Zarinda is sure the lady never learned in the Salons she (doubtless) frequents.

Notable too, to Zarinda's eye, and the Lady makes no effort to hide it, is the fine emerald necklace around her neck.

As Zarinda moves on, she picks up the latest copper-piece broadsheet of the Zarahemla Gazette, skimming the six columns quickly, only one article seems noteworthy.
Noted delvers the Jade Ravens recently returned from a search deep within the Necropolis with jewel-encrusted chalice. Noted collector Eobard Strong will be displaying the chalice in the City Museum for the next week before retiring it to his private collection. As usual, the Church of Wee-Jas has decried the ‘looting’ of the Necropolis as ‘desecration.’

With a twinkle in her eye, Zarinda also grazes past a figure who, this time looks like a dust-cheeked farm maid, brushing her hand lightly inside the woman's sash to palm the note waiting for her there. The exchange is so subtle, no one would have seen even had they been watching for it. But indeed, who would be watching as a well-to-do artist pickpocketed a poor woman? The absurdity of such a situation was part of the arrangement between Zarinda and her contact to relay petitions for "jobs" that might interest the Black Cat.
The note is stained and wrinkled; the handwriting is – not the best:

Dear Black Cat:

I’ve no mony to pay ye, but sumday I’ll be a great hero, and I will be in yur debt if you kin help me out. My da was a great man. We wer never rich, but he always mad do fur us. He dyed the last fortnite. All I got to remember him is a portrait from a pantur friend, but now my sis says we mus sell it for mony. She givin it to th oxion house Butterby to be sold in tu days. Pleaz get my da’s picture bak fur me. Its all I'll hav of him.
The name is spelled more carefully:

Tristan Fayette
Feel free to make K(local) rolls about any of these. Just be sure to specify what each is about. (E.g. K(local) about the lady with a necklace; K(local) about Butterby; . . .

If Zarinda wants to interact with any of these people (or others) feel free to add that, too. Because of the nature of pbp, we need to allow for frequent ret-cons.:smallsmile:

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda looks for all the world like someone who is just out for a stroll in the fresh air, but to the master thief, nothing passes her eye. As she sees the activity and the note, her keen mind quickly assess information and opportunities

[roll0] know(local) Eobard Strong
[roll1] know(local) house Butterby
[roll2] know(local) necklace lady
[roll3] know(local) Tristan Fayette

[Stegyre]

What a curious selection of descending rolls. How much you know, of course, depends on how well you did. A DC 30, however, is impressive in any context, so don't be surprised at all you know about Eobard.

The Honorable Eobard, Bard of the Sixth, retired adventurer. Zarinda knows him well.

Eobard is in his 60s now, but was an avid adventurer for more than two decades. The fact he is not a “Lord” is merely because he doesn’t care about the local politics of the Minstrels Guild to test for the rank. He is well known for his collection of artifacts collected over his own career as well as from the campaigns of younger adventurers (such as the Jade Ravens), whom he sponsors, in return for first pick of any items they recover.

Eobard has a fine eye for value and good instinct. (Zarinda knows his collection includes a few of her own paintings – notably, her more experimental works.) If something is in Eobard’s collection, neither you nor he may know everything about it, but you can bet it is valuable, even if it should appear pedestrian.

Eobard is also a lady’s man, charismatic, dashing, an excellent dancer (Zarinda has had the pleasure), determinedly unattached, a voice that has charmed more than one woman into his bed.
Whether Zarinda has had the pleasure of more than just dancing with Eobard is up to you. She has certainly been invited, but Eobard is a gentleman, who takes “No” for an answer without offense. From Eobard’s perspective, every woman wants Eobard eventually, and when she changes her mind, she knows where to find him. He has no need to “pursue.”

Eobard’s home is well appointed. Zarinda has been inside (socially, not on a “job”). Security is good, like you would expect of a wealthy retired adventurer, including at least some magical protections. Guards are minimal (two), though Eobard has a number of other servants.

Eobard’s collection is kept in various places. Most items are locked away in vaults beneath his home. A selection of items of lesser value or harder-to-steal-or-fence items are displayed around the house. (Paintings, for example, fall in this category. “The purpose of art is to be displayed,” says Eobard, “not locked away.”)

A rotating selection of more valuable items is kept in a hall devoted to that purpose. Eobard’s social gatherings are usually held in the hall, where the guests may see and appreciate the items (and even handle some of them, with Eobard’s permission).

Other items, particularly new items, he likes to loan to the City Museum for public display. His motives are twofold: the edification of the public and the advancement of Eobard's reputation. (It’s hard to be a high-level bard and not have at least some vanity. No one has ever accused Eobard of excessive humility.)

Eobard is also well known to, and well informed about, the Zarahemla underworld. Local thugs know better than to bother Eobard or even his servants. The leader of the thieves guild is a regular guest of Eobard’s. Their relations are cordial, but there is always an undertext that is very clear to the guildmaster: “Touch what is Eobard’s, and you shall have far more trouble than it is worth.” On rare occasions, a young or new thief has stolen something of Eobard’s. A short note to the right person, and the mistake has been quickly corrected.

Butterby's is one of the three big auction houses in Zarahemla. (There are a number of smaller auction houses, but when you have something of significant value, you take it to Butterby’s or one of the other “big three.” Their expert appraisers will guaranty their assessments. Buy a diamond in a Butterby auction, and you know it is a diamond, not cut class or some magician’s conjuration; but a Zarinda, and you know it’s a genuine Zarinda, not some forgery.

The auction house is located in the Banking Quarter, and it enjoys solid security (including magic) and lots of guards: it would not help the house’s reputation to lose items to theft any more than it would to auction false goods.

Stealing directly from Butterby’s would be extremely difficult. Much better to try to get an item either before it gets into the auctioneer’s hands or after it leaves them.

Lady Tabitha, Dancer of the Seventh, more of a courtesan, really.

In whispered voices, it is joked that she owes her high rank to the “dancing” she has done between the sheets more than her dancing on the stage. Vain, petty, vengeful, and none too bright. An easy target, whether at home, on the street, or at a social engagement.
A fairly low roll. Zarinda does not know where Lady Tabitha lives, but can readily find out – you don’t even need to roll it, as “taking 10” would do it for you. By the same token, you haven’t cased the house, as you don’t know where it is.

The name "Tristan Fayette" does not ring any bells, but “Fayette” – yes, that name rings a bell, but it’s a very faint and distant bell: too many years and too many other faces in between. What was he, a guardsman? A constable? Something like that. The thought nags at you, because you feel like you should know more.
Ugh! A nat. 1, and a result that puts you in common-knowledge range only. Zarinda will have to do some investigation to find out more about this one.

[MikelaC1]

Lady Zarinda has been known to pick subjects for her paintings totally at random, and so her asking questions of people about all sorts of subjects is par for the course. Today, she seems to have two potential subjects in mind, one brought to mind by the noisy display taking place right in the market square, and the other about a supposedly minor and insignificant former guardsman.

[roll0] Tabitha
[roll1] Fayette

[Stegyre]

Information on Lady Tabitha is easy to come by. The Lady is not one to hide herself. Zarinda locates the home without difficulty: a stately mansion in the Verdant Quarter. A low wall and wrought-iron gate enclose the grounds, including a garden. Vines and trellis work climb the sides of the house, itself. By Zarinda's trained eye, Tabitha probably employs around ten servants, only two of which would qualify as “guards.” You can identify Lady Tabitha’s suite from the street: the second-story rooms with an expansive balcony.
Assuming the location and details of her home are what you were after. Feel free to make additional GI checks on other subjects.

The “Fayette” name is much harder to track down. There are several different types of “guards” employed by the City, and the groups do not share a common organization. Some of these are the Constabulary (responsible for patrolling City streets and suppressing crime); the Harbor Guard (responsible for patrolling the docks, inspecting incoming and outgoing ships, and customs work); the Garrison (responsible for defending the City in case of attack); and the Gate Guards (whose responsibilities are similar to the Harbor Guard but for the City Gates: they control entry and egress from the City, inspecting papers, and patrolling the immediate vicinity of their respective gates, both inside and outside the walls).

Moreover, this Fayette does not appear to have been particularly notable: a poor family, no notable heroics.

Eventually, Zarinda tracks down some information. An Artur Fayette was a Gate Guard at the Gate of the Dead – the City gate closest to the Necropolis, where funeral barges usually embark for the short trip across the Sidon River to lay their burdens to rest.

Artur himself made that one-way trip a couple of weeks ago, after a short illness. He was a widower but is survived by two daughters, one a journeymun weaver and the other on the cusp of being old enough for an apprenticeship. His former Commander gives you directions to their home, a one-room shack not too far from the Gate itself.

Regrettably, none of this helps Zarinda’s recollection as to why the Fayette name should be familiar to her.
And "Fayette" continues to prove the more difficult avenue of inquiry. GI tries may be repeated; it just requires more time. While repeated queries may draw attention to you. In this particular instance people will likely pass it off as Zarinda being eccentric, a luxury enjoyed by the well-to-do.

[MikelaC1]

The details of the story and the details of the note seem to match up, and Zarinda slowly makes her way to the one room shack to do a bit of scouting and observation. Perhaps the familiarity of the scene will spark a memory in her mind. She will take care not to make herself seen or known to Tristan, but wants to get an idea of who she is, and why she might choose to assist her. The challenge of getting something out of Butterby is interesting to her though.

[Stegyre]

The place is silent.

The door of the shack is not locked. Opening the door, it is apparent people yet live here but are out for now. Sleeping pallets are rolled in one corner. Warm coals are banked in an open, cast-iron fire pit. A few other personal belongings are gathered here and there.

Nothing currently hangs on the walls but leather covers to pull over the windows in inclement weather, but against one wall stands a set of shelves. While dishes, clothes, and other items clutter the lower shelves, the top shelf is bare but for two small candlesticks, one at either end, standing as an honor guard for the now-empty space between.

As for the shack itself, one such shack is very like another. Both Zarinda and the Black Cat have seen the insides of a number over the years, in both daylight and dark, sometimes on a secret mission of mercy; sometimes as a lark. Missions of mercy stand out in her memory better. This was not one of those. If Zarinda has been her before – and her growing sense says she has – it was a lark: an idea of a portrait had struck her fancy, and she had delivered it to the unknowing family. They probably may not have even recognized it as a “Zarinda.”

As Zarinda is leaving, she locks eyes with a face in the window opening of the next-door shack, the wrinkled face of an old woman, watching her with suspicion. “Who r’you?” she says.

[MikelaC1]

Tishtina she replies I thought I saw someone I recognized down this street...but I was wrong. She moves away

[Stegyre]

The old woman gives you a look that you catch out of the corner of your eye before you turn away. A long, hard life has perhaps made her more discerning than the wealthy patrons that Zarinda-the-Artist so often meets.

"Fine folk like ye got no cause to lie to one such as me," the woman calls to your back. "Ye give me the truth -- or 't least a story closer to it -- an mebbe I he'p you."
Feel free to roll your own Sense Motive to see if you can glean anything.
(Edit: Master Manipulator might also be useful here.)

You can talk further if you wish, or continue to walk away. She's clearly in no position -- socially or physically -- to do anything about you.

Other future options I can think of: a visit to Eobard; a visit to the City Museum to see the chalice; a visit to Butterby's -- forget if I mentioned it already, but items up for auction may be seen by appointment in the days prior to the auction or are available for examination without an appointment for at least an hour or two prior to auction on the day of.

[MikelaC1]

The truth is, I had heard of a painting that was going to sent to the auction house, and I wanted to get a look at it before that happened, because if it has any sort of quality, I was thinking of getting it before it went to auction. But it seems like I was too late.

[roll0]

[Stegyre]

The old woman nods her head, seemingly more agreeable now, and scratches the hairs on her chin. "Marinda's tak'n it th' auction house alredy," she says. "Butterby's, I think. Hav to go see 't ther. Nice paint'n, though: ther' pa 'n a wee boy." She scrutinizes you.
[roll0]
Edit: Mm, she likes you, at least enough to open up a little.
"You go bid on 't, 'n mak shur it sells at a good price. Them gals need th' geld, an' 's breakin' ther harts t' sell it, th' yunger 'in 'specially.

Name's Smyrna, Potter o' th' Second," she volunteers.
Such low ranks are not uncommon for peasants, who might never have the wherewithal or social pull to be elevated to Third, regardless of their actual skill.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda heads back to the auction house to get a look at the painting. While the challenge of stealing something from the House is appealing, it wouldnt help the girls at all, they would have their painting back but still not have the money they would need. She will have to steal it after the auction has happened, and she wants to check if this one was one of her early works, which might trigger some other memories.

[Stegyre]

Butterby’s Auction House is a stately building: a marble columned portico leading to heavy, gilded double doors in a window-less face. An armed doorman opens one of the doors for Zarinda and ushers her inside without question.

She is in the foyer for less than a minute before the Head Auctioneer comes to greet her. He walks quickly, wringing his hands, and obviously excited to see her. “Delighted you have come, Lady Zarinda,” he says. “A prospective bidder is viewing the portrait right now, by appointment, but I am sure he would not object to your presence!”

He leads you down one of the hallways, talking all the way. “Our art appraiser has already vouched for the work as one of yours. An early work, to be sure. Previously unknown. Quite a relief that it should surface when you are still available. Of course, you would not mind certificating it for the auction, just to remove any question?” He looks at you, anxious, as the two of you stop outside a door with yet another guard.
”Certificating,” Zarinda knows, means signing a certificate (then notarized) that she is, indeed, the artist of a particular work. You also know that (a) you have no obligation to do so, but if word got out that you refused it would cast a serious cloud over the portrait, notwithstanding the appraiser’s opinion that it is an authentic Zarinda; and (b) getting you in to see the painting without an advance appointment is, in itself, a courtesy, though not an unusual one under these circumstances.

It is rather obvious that Butterby’s is extending you this courtesy in the hopes that you will give them the courtesy of a certificate.
Next post to follow immediately. You may break down your own actions and comments between outside and inside the next room, but I’m not going to make you wait longer to “see” the painting.

[Stegyre]

From the doorway, you can see only part of the picture, as the rest is blocked by the figure of a large man sitting on the bench. He turns as he hears the door open, but even before he does, you recognize Eobard Strong. His look of surprise quickly dissolves into a wide smile. “Lady Zarinda! Join me, please.” He stands and moves to stand at one end of the bench, leaving plenty of room for her to sit.
He remains standing unless (or until) you sit.
It is, indeed, one of your experimental works, when you were in your late teens and just beginning to become known for your art. This one is full of charcoal greys and earth browns, the colors that pervade the slums and people near the Gate of the Dead. In the background are vague indications of a shrouded corpse being carried by pallbearers through the gate. Most of the picture, however, is a close up of two people: one, a small boy, perhaps no more than five years, with a dirty, tear-streaked face and dressed in nothing but a shift; the other, a man in the garb of a Gate Guard – clearly the Artur Fayette of memory – who has knelt by the boy, hand on his shoulder. The man’s face is worn and lined, expressive. His eyes look out of the portrait at the viewer. They are tired eyes that know the grief the boy feels and hold a compassion and empathy of one who has trodden that road himself.

Zarinda remembers the day, a Spring day not unlike this one, but the waning days of a plague that had gripped the poorer sections of the City. Since then, the Council had spent substantial sums to improve the sewers and drainage and to build fountains for fresh water. The sickness had not recurred. While it lasted, however, there were few families in the slums who did not suffer a loss.

Zarinda had been wandering, as she often did, looking for both a worthy target for the Black Cat and a suitable subject for painting, when her way was blocked by a funeral procession. The small boy, clearly one of the bereaved, had momentarily lost his grip on the hand of an older sibling and was sobbing as the pall bearers moved on. The rest of the guards stood rigidly at attention, not uncaring but in respect to the dead, leaving the City for the final time. Fayette, however, had broken form to kneel down and comfort the yet-living.

The pathos of the scene had touched Zarinda and inspired her hand. It was not her best work, but it is certainly very good.
The deceased was the boy's mother, a young woman Fayette had known, a friend to his wife. Fayette had helped carry his own wife through the Gate a month earlier. These were trying times for the Poor.

[MikelaC1]

Butterby’s Auction House is a stately building: a marble columned portico leading to heavy, gilded double doors in a window-less face. An armed doorman opens one of the doors for Zarinda and ushers her inside without question.

She is in the foyer for less than a minute before the Head Auctioneer comes to greet her. He walks quickly, wringing his hands, and obviously excited to see her. “Delighted you have come, Lady Zarinda,” he says. “A prospective bidder is viewing the portrait right now, by appointment, but I am sure he would not object to your presence!”

He leads you down one of the hallways, talking all the way. “Our art appraiser has already vouched for the work as one of yours. An early work, to be sure. Previously unknown. Quite a relief that it should surface when you are still available. Of course, you would not mind certificating it for the auction, just to remove any question?” He looks at you, anxious, as the two of you stop outside a door with yet another guard.
”Certificating,” Zarinda knows, means signing a certificate (then notarized) that she is, indeed, the artist of a particular work. You also know that (a) you have no obligation to do so, but if word got out that you refused it would cast a serious cloud over the portrait, notwithstanding the appraiser’s opinion that it is an authentic Zarinda; and (b) getting you in to see the painting without an advance appointment is, in itself, a courtesy, though not an unusual one under these circumstances.

It is rather obvious that Butterby’s is extending you this courtesy in the hopes that you will give them the courtesy of a certificate.
Next post to follow immediately. You may break down your own actions and comments between outside and inside the next room, but I’m not going to make you wait longer to “see” the painting.

Lady Zarinda is known for her style and graciousness (although she does have a slightly disconcerting habit of being right beside you if you need something in her gallery, even though you never saw or heard her approach) and so she smiles at the Head...Of course, I would have to see it first before I sign, but if its one of mine, of course I will authenticate it Which will just give the girls that much more.


From the doorway, you can see only part of the picture, as the rest is blocked by the figure of a large man sitting on the bench. He turns as he hears the door open, but even before he does, you recognize Eobard Strong. His look of surprise quickly dissolves into a wide smile. “Lady Zarinda! Join me, please.” He stands and moves to stand at one end of the bench, leaving plenty of room for her to sit.
He remains standing unless (or until) you sit.
It is, indeed, one of your experimental works, when you were in your late teens and just beginning to become known for your art. This one is full of charcoal greys and earth browns, the colors that pervade the slums and people near the Gate of the Dead. In the background are vague indications of a shrouded corpse being carried by pallbearers through the gate. Most of the picture, however, is a close up of two people: one, a small boy, perhaps no more than five years, with a dirty, tear-streaked face and dressed in nothing but a shift; the other, a man in the garb of a Gate Guard – clearly the Artur Fayette of memory – who has knelt by the boy, hand on his shoulder. The man’s face is worn and lined, expressive. His eyes look out of the portrait at the viewer. They are tired eyes that know the grief the boy feels and hold a compassion and empathy of one who has trodden that road himself.

Zarinda remembers the day, a Spring day not unlike this one, but the waning days of a plague that had gripped the poorer sections of the City. Since then, the Council had spent substantial sums to improve the sewers and drainage and to build fountains for fresh water. The sickness had not recurred. While it lasted, however, there were few families in the slums who did not suffer a loss.

Zarinda had been wandering, as she often did, looking for both a worthy target for the Black Cat and a suitable subject for painting, when her way was blocked by a funeral procession. The small boy, clearly one of the bereaved, had momentarily lost his grip on the hand of an older sibling and was sobbing as the pall bearers moved on. The rest of the guards stood rigidly at attention, not uncaring but in respect to the dead, leaving the City for the final time. Fayette, however, had broken form to kneel down and comfort the yet-living.

The pathos of the scene had touched Zarinda and inspired her hand. It was not her best work, but it is certainly very good.
The deceased was the boy's mother, a young woman Fayette had known, a friend to his wife. Fayette had helped carry his own wife through the Gate a month earlier. These were trying times for the Poor.

She smiles at Eobard, and then looks at the picture, clearly remembering it now. She gestures for the Head to bring her the certificate and sits while she waits. She talks to Eobard This was from a long time ago, and several styles ago. I barely remember doing it, are you thinking of adding it Her tone gives away nothing, but she is hoping he is not, while the Cat would enjoy the challenge, she would rather not have him as an enemy just yet.

[Stegyre]

With a quick motion of his hand the Head Auctioneer sends of an attendant, who returns shortly with a gnome clerk and a form Certificate. They wait as Zarinda signs, and the gnome then notarizes the certificate by affixing his arcane mark. All but the guard then withdraw to give Zarinda and Eobard their privacy.

This was from a long time ago, and several styles ago. I barely remember doing it, are you thinking of adding it
Eobard deflects the question with one of his own: "How many others do you have in this style?"
Zarinda knows enough about Eobard that the rarity (or perceived rarity) of the piece will affect his desire to own it and how much he is willing to pay.

It is up to you whether Zarinda has other such pieces, and how many. I've already intruded quite enough on that character decision.:smallsmile:

[MikelaC1]

This was, as you can no doubt tell, an experimental style I was toying with in my earlier days. It did not prove as successful as I thought it might be. I didnt do a whole lot of them and in some cases, since I was still a struggling young artist with limited funds, I sometimes saved money on new frames and canvases by painting over them. This isnt the only one that survived, but it is one of few.

[Stegyre]

Eobard nods and rubs his chin knowingly. "Mm. Yes, I expect to bid on the piece, though I expect there will be others as well. Cannot say for certain if I will be going home with it." After some additional pleasantries, he takes his leave of you, and you are alone in the room (with the guard) as long as you reasonably wish.

[MikelaC1]

(Additional pleasantries)
I will let you in on a secret. One of those experimental pieces was done, but again, I wasn't pleased with the result. Rather than painting it over however, I simply turned the canvas around, remounted it, and painted the picture known as Lady in Black.
Eobard will know the picture Zarinda refers to, it was the one that marked the breakthrough of her career. It hung in the Zarahemia Gallery for several months and Zarinda refused all offers to sell it. When its display was ended, she brought it back to her gallery where it still is today.

When Eobard leaves, she continues to study the painting in question.

(Question: How long did it take her to make this painting, and could she replicate it, here or in her studio)

[MikelaC1]

With the picture firmly planted in her mind, Zarinda returns to her studio, planning to do a replication of her work, sketching in an outline first so that she has reference of where everything is going to go, and then starts filling in the outlines.
[roll0]
As she works, she wonders how long it will be before the auction occurs, and what Eobards reaction will be to learning that one of her most famous paintings actually has a second painting on its back.

[Stegyre]

Zarinda works late into the night to duplicate her original painting from memory, but she makes excellent progress: another day like this, and the piece will be done.
Crafting progress is based on an eight-hour day, and you already spent some of the day before starting -- seeking out the Fayettes and then going to the auction house.

Excellent roll, though. If you just meet the DC (20) "tomorrow," you'll be done. Put in an extra Craft roll when you do, to see how good a copy it is.

Edit: Zarinda gets some rest and wakes up for the next day.
You still have another day before the auction.

[MikelaC1]

Rested and refreshed, Zarinda returns to work the next day to finish off her reproduction of the painting. Once done, she takes a long time examining the new work to see how good of a match it is.

[roll0] painting roll
[roll1] examine roll

[Stegyre]

The painting is finished by noon. Examining the reproduction with a critical eye, Zarinda can see where she could have made a more faithful copy. Perhaps the greatest "flaw" is simply her increased talent in the intervening years. Some of the minor errors she detected in the original have been corrected here, subconsciously. The difference, however, would only be apparent to an expert eye upon close examination.
A roll of 7 but a result of 25 -- I felt the need to finesse this somehow. The appraiser who authenticated the original would probably be able to detect the difference. I doubt Eobard could, if it ever came to that. A couple of peasant girls certainly couldn't -- and probably would not care even if they could.
She still has most of the day ahead of her. What shall she do next?

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda will spend the rest of the day getting her appearance down just right, she plans to attend this auction as it is rare for one of her works to go on the auction block, she prefers to sell directly and when most people acquire a "Zarinda" they are loath to part with it.

[Stegyre]

The following day dawns bright and early. Sunshine. Zarinda is able to make her way to the auction house without incident. Although the auction is not until noon, the building is open -- and items are on display -- at 10:00.

In the square in front of Butterby's, several children and youth are scattered about, some playing, some sitting.
A young woman at the far side of the square stands glaring at the entrance to Butterby's. Arms crossed over her chest. She looks to be between 12 and 14, worn clothes of a peasant, but she stands proud and dauntless, as if facing down a foe. A loop of cord across her chest secures a long stick on her back, looking very much like a play sword.
Zarinda's eye for detail picks out the familiar line of the jaw, the cheek bones, the eyes -- just like those of the figure she so recently painted. This is unquestionably one of Fayette's daughters.
Inside Butterby's, several chairs and benches have been set up before the auctioneer's podium. A few prospective buyers are already seated, some having whispered discussions with confidants -- business partners, personal appraisers, or investment advisers. Others are circulating among the items for bid today. Guards are stationed discretely throughout the room.

Eobard is there, circulating among the others, chatting amicably. It is easy to pick out his reserved seat: one of the plush chairs, with his attendant standing by.

It is hard to know who might be planning to bid upon the portrait, but in addition to Eobard, Zarinda can pick out three or four other art aficionados who are likely bidders.
Give you the opportunity to engage in any pre-auction activity, whether at home, on the way, in the square, or in the auction house.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda heads past the children, not really noticing them in their play. Under one of her arms is what looks like a scroll container, it holds her copied painting.
Zarinda goes by her painting once more, to take one last look in comparison to hers. [roll0] Once she finishes, she heads back to chat with some of the other buyers, trying to get a feel for their opinions. She slightly downplays her painting, noting that is was an early, experimental phase. [roll1]

[Stegyre]

Zarinda skillfully works the crowd of prospective bidders. In Eobard’s ear, a few mentions of the “Lady in Black,” which she has finally decided to sell.

The other most-likely bidders are three:

Geoffrey Mason, a barrel-chested man, retired sea captain and successful merchant. He leads a consortium that owns a small fleet of trading vessels, and he has done well for himself and his family. He has a small collection of artworks (nowhere near as distinguished as Eobard’s), along with various items imported from faraway lands.

Draffin Lowe, thin and wiry, one of the current High Councilors. Most citizens know Lord Lowe as a successful financier. The less fortunate know him as a loan shark. Zarinda and the higher-ups in the criminal underworld, however, know him as Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild of Zarahemla. He is a merciless man. More than one guildmember who has chafed at his leadership – and more than one non-guildmember who has sought to ply “the trade” in the Metropolis without permission – has ended up at the bottom of the Sidon, not necessarily with all body parts still attached. Draffin is known for his interest in gems, jewelry, and “portable art.”

Lastly, Igelm Hyde. Young, handsome, well-to-do, Adept Hyde is heir to the House Hyde fortune. If Lord Mason’s interest in the painting is to compete with Eobard, and Lord Lowe’s interest is to have something valuable he may quickly grab and take with him, should he suddenly need to leave the City in the middle of the night, Adept Hyde’s interest in the portrait is women. Zarinda has suffered his attentions before, and Igelm is clearly excited that she should be here to watch the bidding. It doesn’t take a Sense Motive check to realize he hopes to impress the famous artist with how much he is willing to pay for one of her early pieces. Even if he fails to win the heart of the famous Zarinda, Igelm can always show off the portrait to other potential conquests, as a boast to his wealth and taste.

[MikelaC1]

Concealing her intentions is one of Zarinda's specialties (one of the requirements of being a thief) and so, very few could make out the fact that having Geoffrey or Draffin purchase her painting would not be something she would prefer.
[roll0]
However, having Igelm buy it would play exactly into her hands (especially if he pays top dollar, which would benefit the young Fayette), and so whenever he makes a bid or ups the ante, she favours him with a small, flirting smile if he happens to be looking at her.
[roll1]

[Stegyre]

The bidding goes much as Zarinda might expect or hope. In the initial rounds, all four (and a handful of others in the room) are bidders. Draffin is the first of the serious bidders to drop out: he has no interest in over paying for his treasures. (He satisfies himself with some later, successful bids on a handful of jewelry lots, including an emerald-and-diamond necklace. Clearly not something he intends to wear.)

Igelm and Geoffrey continue somewhat longer. With every wink or smile from Zarinda, Igelm tops Geoffrey's bid by yet another 50 guilders. When the price rises to the point where even Geoffrey recognizes it is no longer a good investment, he stops his bid. To Zarinda's alarm, it is at that point that Eobard begins to bid again. Is he intending to steal away the prize?

No. After but a couple more rounds of bidding, Eobard too stops. With a,

"Once!"

"Twice!"

"Thrice!"

the portrait is struck of to the esteemed Adept Hyde. He is all smiles, with a particularly suggestive smile in Zarinda's direction.

When the auction concludes, he saunters over to where Zarinda sits. "Milady?" he says, offering his arm. "Perhaps you might join me for a drink while the portrait is prepared. I should love the artist's opinion on what sort of frame to use and where to hang it."

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda takes his arm, but makes sure she keeps at least some distance between her body and his, not obvious in any manner but still separated. She orders a drink, something only lightly alcoholic and considers the portrait for a moment before it is put away, making it seem like something she hasnt seen in a long, long time.
The frame itself is best decided by where you intend to hang it, it should match the rest of the furniture in the area. This was an experimental work, early in my career, so I wouldnt put it in the most prominent spot you have, but its still the best example of that style.

[Stegyre]

It takes Igelm only a couple of thwarted attempts to close the difference between the two of them to get the hint that, if he is ever to enjoy success in this particular pursuit, it is not going to be today: he will need to be patient. "I believe I know just the place: the Conservatory, looking over the grand piano. Perhaps you would care to visit, to inspect the room? At your convenience, of course." He bows, all gallantry.

Zarinda hears a faint chuckle in the voice of Eobard Strong coming from several feet behind her, but when she turns to look, the Honorable Eobard is studiously speaking with Lord Lowe, complimenting him on his jewelry purchases. He winks as you catch his eye but excuses himself and departs the Auction House soon thereafter.

As Zarinda departs House Butterby, she again picks up a copy of the Gazette: a report that the guards at the Gate of the Dead put down a zombie last night. It happens, infrequently. Thankfully, there were no casualties.

[MikelaC1]

RetCon
Zarinda watches the process of storing the painting for transport carefully, trying to see if there is a moment when everyone is distracted enough to swap her copy for the original.
(Rolls will be provided if needed)


If no opportunity presents itself, she agrees with Iglem's request to inspect the place he has chosen to display the painting. She makes small talk without a second thought as she goes with him, her mind is actually studying the home and its security, seeing how she could circumvent it during her next "visit"

[Stegyre]

No good opportunities to swap the paintings at the auction house: the portrait is constantly surrounded by people and it's in a frame -- it would take much more time than you could possibly have alone to make the switch.

There are at least two other places you might do so, however: House Hyde or the framer's shop.
Adept Hyde escorts you down the steps of the auction house and (after a brief wait) hands you into his carriage for the ride. It is an open carriage, suitable for the fine Spring weather.
Feel free to try your spot check again -- still DC 15 -- and go back and read the previous spoiler if successful.
It is a short ride to House Hyde, located in the Verdant Quarter (same as Lady Tabitha), so named for the many stately trees that shade houses and streets, as well as a number of parks.

A 10' wall, topped with broken glass, surrounds the courtyard of the House, large enough for a good 20 servants, a handful of whom doubtless double as guards. Security looks typical for a house of this sort: locks on the outside doors; latches on all of the windows; bars over the ground-floor windows. There are doubtless one or more safes discretely concealed around the house for jewelry and other valuables. Thankfully, the portrait is not likely to end up in one of them.

From the grand entry hall, Igelm leads Zarinda to the Conservatory near the rear of the house, taking up Northwest corner.
Make a Search check.
Two large glass windows look over the garden on both the North and the West wall, but they are barred -- any entry by window will have to be from an upper story. The grand piano is near the East wall, and above it, a bar space of wall that would, indeed, suit a picture.

[Stegyre]

You notice the Waif this time, as you are leaving the auction house.

She notices you, too. At least, she notices the Hyde carriage: it is not hard to spot which departing patron is accompanied by a large, portrait-sized package.

You do not notice anything else about House Hyde.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda nods her approval of his choice (not that she cared a whit) and thanks Iglem for his hospitality.

So, my lord, do you intend to hang the portrait now? I would stay to watch but you seem to have things well in hand, and I have a pressing appointment that I simply cannot be late for.

She also casually looks at Iglem to see if there is any indication of his rank and in what field.

I know that in the Seven Swords books, they had tattoos on their foreheads, not sure if there is a corresponding visual system

[Stegyre]

As politely as he can, Igelm endeavors to delay Zarinda's departure as long as possible, asking her opinion on the positioning of the painting as a couple of servants endeavor to hang it over the piano; offering her a samplings of the most recent wines.

House Hyde got their start as vintners and still hold several vineyards in the hills outside of Zarahemla. From their, they expanded to becoming wine merchants. They have made their fortune marketing both their own domestic production as well as imported varieties (and also varied their own production with the importation and cultivation of foreign vines).

Soon enough, however, Zarinda is able to take her leave -- graciously. It is as she is passing back through the entry hall that her eye catches sight of the small candle, lit, sitting unobtrusively on a shelf. Slowing her walk and looking more closely around the rest of the hall, she detects the faint shimmer in one corner. Only someone skilled in locating magical traps could ever notice it. Only an experienced thief would recognize it for what it was: a rather simple (though magical) alarm system:

A Magic Mouth (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/magicMouth.htm) has been placed in the hallway, set to trigger if anyone enters the hall (a) without a light source, (b) when the candle is not lit. When the household retires for the evening, the butler or one of the maids -- carrying a candle or lantern -- will snuff the little candle in the entryway. In the morning (or if some late-night visitor comes and the door must be opened), they will likewise enter with a lantern. (Occasionally, mistakes are made, and someone accidentally trips the magic mouth. It's then 20 gp and a visit from a magewright to re-set it.)

It's a simple trap to defeat: you just need to remember to take a light with you while you're in the entry hall.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda makes her way back to her house/studio and waits for night to fall. As soon as she thinks that the level of darkness has hit its best level, she makes her way back to the Hyde mansion, dressed now in her black cat suit and carrying her thieves implements along with her copied artwork, rolled up and tucked in a scroll tube. The only item that is not usual for the Cat is a small candle, not yet lit, she will do that in the house when needed.

(tell me what roll checks are needed)

[MikelaC1]

The "walls" are barely a challenge for the Black Cat and her magical rope, she scoots over them with ease. As stealthily as she can (and the Black Cat is very stealthy) the Cat makes her way to just below a balcony, and once again her rope makes the climb easy.

[roll0] hide
[roll1] move silently

[Stegyre]

Zarinda makes it over the walls as gracefully as the black cat of her alias. Perched now on the second-floor balcony and peering through the window, she can make out that this is a bedroom, though whether it is occupied or not . . .

The latch on the door is simple, and Zarinda unlocks it without difficulty.
simple lock = DC 20; Zarinda is able to bypass it automatically
Stepping inside, she can get a better view of the bed. It's . . .
[roll0]

Let's have another Move Silently roll for how quietly you move through the bedroom and to the downstairs. If the bed is unoccupied or if you don't want to do anything regarding any occupant, you may take yourself all the way to the bottom of the stairs / entrance to the hall (where the magic mouth is located).
occupied. A young woman sleeps peacefully on what are likely down pillows and satin sheets. From the similarity of face, she is doubtless Igelm's younger sister.

The room contains other furnishings of a woman's bedroom: a couple of wardrobes, a vanity, table-and-washbasin, divan, and chairs.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda is a black ghost as she moves silently through the room and down the stairs. Although is not likely that there would be traps in a house, there could be alarms at some spots and she is sure to check any time she has to go through a door of any kind

[roll0] move silently
[roll1] move silently
[roll2] search
[roll3] search

On her way, she doesnt forget to get her little candle lit from a torch in the hall or other flame source.

[Stegyre]

Disturbing nothing in the bedroom (including the sleeper), Zarinda makes her way to the door and down the stairs. Along the way, she spots a box of tindertwigs – doubtless laid out for just such a purpose – and uses one to light her candle. Protected by the light, she walks down the Hall without setting off the magic mouth. Through the door to the Conservatory, at last she stands before her painting. Around her, the house is silent.
Let's have a disable device check to swap the paintings. That seems about the closest skill.

Almost done. After this, you just need to get out,

and then deliver the painting to its original owners.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda takes one more quick look at the door to make sure about traps
[roll0]
And then makes her way in...swapping out the pictures is a breeze for her as she mounts paintings all the time
[roll1]
She regrets not being able to leave one of her signature Black Cat statuettes, but that would defeat her overall plan.

She makes her way back out of the house, making sure she is not seen
[roll2] listen
[roll3] move silently
[roll4] hide

[Stegyre]

The Black Cat makes her exit as easily as her entrance, leaving no trace that she was ever there.

She stands on the empty roadway in the middle of the night, with the rolled up portrait. Will she return it to her patron tonight or wait for later?

[MikelaC1]

Its a dark ghost that flits through the nighttime city, Zarinda looking to make her way to her next location. She will be careful as she approaches, making sure that there is no one out and about to see her, and if the two girls are down for the night.

[roll0] hide
[roll1] hide
[roll2] move silently
[roll3] move silently

[Stegyre]

It is very late at night, and the streets are largely deserted. Zarinda spots very few fellow travelers. Here and there, some soul on a late-night errand runs quickly through the street. More rarely, she sees a fellow "practitioner" lurking in the shadows and doubtless up to no good. She herself moves from shadow to shadow unseen.

She nears the Fayette home unobserved. The only thing of note: yet another traveler, coming from the direction of the gate, moving neither quickly nor furtively but rather staggering along. Perhaps a drunkard turned out from the tavern. Zarinda cannot think of any taverns in that direction, but a drunk could hardly be expected to chart a straight course homeward. (Make a Spot check, please.)

The Fayette's home is dark, as well as the home of the potter-neighbor and the surrounding houses. Zarinda is able to creep right up to the doorway without making a sound.
(Make a Listen check, please.)

[MikelaC1]

[roll0] spot
[roll1] listen

[Stegyre]

Zarinda does not notice anything unusual.

Listening beneath an open window, she hears the gentle breathing of two sleepers.
Well, that was a bit of an unexpected break, but it looks like the forums are up again.

[MikelaC1]

There are many thieves that try to slip into places to perform acts of robbery, but there are almost no thieves that break into places to put things back. Zarinda is one such person and she takes many steps to protect her anonymity as well. She makes one more look around the area to make sure no one can see her enter, and then slips inside to replace the painting. As well, here is where she will deposit her Black Cat figurine.

[roll0] spot
[roll1] move silent

[Stegyre]

The job goes off without a hitch. The door has little by way of any lock (as there's little worth taking inside). Zarinda enters with ease, steps past the sleeping figures soundlessly, to the set of shelves where the portrait once stood. She unrolls it and props it open with the two candlesticks still waiting there, finishing the display with her signature figurine in the center of the display.

She is able to exit as quietly as she entered, returning the door to its latch. The streets are empty.
You can return home safely, without anyone noticing, or is there anything else you wished to do tonight? If not, we can take things to the next day -- I have a feeling your contact is going to want to see you. :smallwink:

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda slips out quietly once again, and heads back to her loft/studio, doffing her disguise as she rolls into bed.

I probably should have mentioned, I picture her Robe of Elvenkind as being almost a full body "catsuit" with a concealing mask, sort of like Julie Newmar's Catwoman, although her cowl would be even a bit more concealing

[Stegyre]

Epilogue: The Fayettes

Dawn a few hours later is greeted with shrieks as the two young women wake to see their father's returned portrait: shrieks of joy from Tristan. "I knew it! I knew it! I knew the Black Cat wouldn't let me down!"

Shrieks of terror from her older sister Marinda: "You fool! Don't you realize: when they find out it's missing, they will come looking for it. They will come here, and they'll think we stole it, or that we know the Black Cat." An argument ensues, loud enough that it soon brings "Grandmother" Smyrna from next door. Calm is restored; plans are made: the Fayettes must disappear, an easy-enough thing to do when you're poor enough that only your close neighbors know you and you have suddenly come into a large sum of money.

Marinda will find a new home. The sales price is enough to provide her a dowry, the only obstacle to her hopes to marry the young man who has been courting her. A new home, a new start, in a different quarter of the City. "Grandma" will come with her. This not only eliminates a loose end who might be questioned about their whereabouts, but Marinda is eager to start a family once she is wed, and the extra hands (and experience) will come in handy.

Tristan will take her share to buy an apprenticeship in an adventurers' guild. Training, experience, connections. In the short term, she will be lost to those seeking her in the City. Longer term, she will be gone from the City altogether.

Their belongings are few, and within the day, they have left the house, planning never to return. Within a few days more, and Marinda has left her employer. If anyone asks, no one knows where the Fayettes and Smyrna have gone. "Just up and left one day. Didn' say where."

Tristan takes the rolled-up portrait in her pack. It is a few days later that the note, left in one of the usual drop locations, makes its way back to the Zarinda:

Dear Black Cat:

Thank yu! Thank yu! My sord is forever yurs.

Sinserly,

Tristan Fayette, Adventurur.

[Stegyre]

It is a few days later, as Zarinda begins to contemplate the next "job" for the Black Cat. The engraved invitation delivered to her shop reminds her of the annual Lords and Ladies Ball at Brewfest at the end of the month. It is a grand masquerade ball attended by all the Lords and Ladies of the Seventh, as well as more than a few aspiring "Honorables" who hope to join their ranks. It is a time of good food, good dancing, good conversation -- and a good opportunity for the Black Cat to see which jewels may be in need of liberation or who of the highest folk are in need of being taken down a peg or two (though Zarinda is always careful never to juxtapose a job to closely with the Ball).

A good opportunity, too, to take one's mind off the zombie incursions, which have continued to increase. Somehow, they have found a way to evade the Watch on the gates and have been found roaming the streets here and there. There have been no (known) attacks, which is another strange aspect of the "invasion," and the guards have been able to dispatch them with reasonable ease. But no one has an answer for why they keep coming or what they are trying to do.

Perhaps those thoughts are still on her mind as she wanders into the Market to meet her contact. This time, her guise is obviously rushed. She looks flustered, even -- scared? -- as she moves quickly through the Market, as if restraining herself from running. She bumps into Zarinda (among others), and it feels as if the notes are practically pushed into her hand.

The notes -- several notes, a dozen, in fact: a significant number to Zarinda, for that is the number of different "drops" for sending a message to the Black Cat, rumors spread in different quarters to different groups, so none but Zarinda and her Contact know all the locations, or even the total number of them.
Some of the notes are on parchment that looks ancient, some on strips of cloth that looks similarly aged. More than one seems to have flakes of skin and one seems to have come with a rotted piece of a finger(!) Each is written in the same, shaky hand, in a red "ink" that Zarinda recognizes as dried blood:

The Black Cat can return the Chalice to us. Our Chalice MUST be returned!

[MikelaC1]

The manner of the notes, along with the zombie incursions, cannot be a coincidence. Even though Zarinda is not a formal member of the Thieves Guild, she still has ears into the organization, as well as gossip in her salon and so she mediates on what she might have heard about the theft of a chalice

[roll0]

(pending result of K:L, she will either make some discreet inquires about leads she remembers or in the case of a fail, some discreet inquiries about a stolen chalice in the news)

[roll1]

[Stegyre]

Zarinda does not need to search her memory for long before it rewards her with a Gazette article she read within the past fortnight (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=21783631&postcount=1):

Noted delvers the Jade Ravens recently returned from a search deep within the Necropolis with jewel-encrusted chalice. Noted collector Eobard Strong will be displaying the chalice in the City Museum for the next week before retiring it to his private collection. As usual, the Church of Wee-Jas has decried the ‘looting’ of the Necropolis as ‘desecration.’

She cannot recall any other chalices in recent memory.

[MikelaC1]

Zarinda slumped when the memory came to her, checking the Gazette just to be sure. This posed a real problem. People who stole from Eobard usually ended up floating face first in the harbour, if they even managed to pull it off. And if she took her suspicions to Eobard, he would wonder how a humble painter could surmise such a connection, which would make him doubly suspicious if she then had to turn around and have the Black Cat take her turn at it. Of course, the Black Cat was not a part of the official Thieves Guild and thus was not subject to their rules. First things first though.
The chalice was supposed to be on display in the City Museum, so that would be the first step. She dealt politely with all the customers in her salon, and then when it was empty, locked it up you never know when that terrible Black Cat might show up and went to pay a visit to the Museum, on the surface just there to check out the piece, but surreptitiously, checking for whatever sort of security measures the Museum had in place, both in general and in specific to this piece.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[sakshiyadav]

You notice the Waif this time, as you are leaving the auction house.

She notices you, too. At least, she notices the Hyde carriage: it is not hard to spot which departing patron is accompanied by a large, portrait-sized package.

You do not notice anything else about House Hyde.

yes you are absolutely right.