Shadows of Dust

[Zrinfael]

The lot of you have been summoned at this ungodly hour (approx. 6 am, 15-30 minutes before sunrise) to the work chambers of Inquisitor DuBaeli. Plain wooden doors guarded by the arching white marble pillars mark the entrance to his overly plain and sparsely furnished office. The room is dominated by a huge wooden desk of stained cherry. Behind the desk sits an old bald man, leathery skin hanging from high cheekbones. Bright brown eyes sweep you all in at a glance, then return to a half-rolled scroll of paper. After the last of you have entered in the office he waves his hand sharply.
"Shut the door."
The heavy wooden door groans under its own weight as it slides closed. The only furniture on your side of the desk is two small uncomfortable looking wooden chairs meant for young scribes and errand boys. Both are currently empty. DuBaeli continues to read for a few moments, letting the silence stretch. He then sets the scroll down and taps the paper with the back of his hand.
"Do you know what is written on this scroll? Of course you do not, allow me to enlighten you. A young man, a trainee in the knighthood of the Silver Flame has chosen to take his leave of the church abruptly." He stands smoothly, his agility belying his age. "Not unusual in any regard, we have quite a few who are not able to stomach the training given them, no spine at all." DuBaeli begins to pace, glancing from one of you to the next. "No, that is not a problem, however, in taking his leave, this young man overpowered one of the scholar's guild carrying a minor item that holds particular value to the church. This item is held in a small box of iron and gilded silver guarded with holy seals and wards. The ward of the knighthood has placed a small reward for the return of the boy and a smaller reward for the return of the item." DuBaeli's brows knit together in a clear expression of contempt. "He has failed most miserably to understand the weight of this situation." DuBaeli stops suddenly and fixes you with an iron gaze. "The boy's name is Harold Makrenii, and you will find the item he took and you shall do so before some footpad turns it in for a paltry reward. I do not care particularly one way or the other what happens to Makrenii." DuBaeli snaps up the scroll, winds it, ties it, and offers it to Alistair. "If you are, for any reason, unable to return with the item, find as much information as is possible regarding where the item has gone." He fixes Alistair with a glare. "This is an embarrassment to the church, and thus an embarrassment to me, and to you. If you can not find this box, it had better be a very good reason." He breaks the glare, sweeps you all once more with a glance and seems to be content with whatever it is he sees. "If you do not have any questions, you are dismissed."


Glancing over the scroll you have a description of Harold Makrenii as well as his lodgings, friends in the church, supervisors, and previous notes about his performance (most note a poor performance). The scholar's account of the incident where Makrenii stole the box, as well as a detailed description of the outside of the box. The box itself is sealed shut and can not easily be opened. Makrenii left the church the night before today, and has no family nearby. Wrapped in the scroll is a small sprig of oak wrapped in wrinkled paper, with the words 'Use at your discretion' penned in a practiced hand. The sprig is easily identifiable by any of you scholarly types as one of the church's wands of cure light wounds.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair reads over the scroll before carefully rolling it up and placing it in his pocket, or handing it to any other members of the group who want it. He will hold onto the wand unless Paine or Tieran asks for it.

Turning his attention back to the Inquisitor, Alistair stands at attention. "Sir. We will have Makrenii back to you within the day. Is there any record of his family outside of Flamekeep? Might he try to leave the city?"

[GimliFett]

Regy d'Velderan

The young artificer barely manages to conceal his shock at Alistair's assertion of near-immediate success. Within th' day? Wow! He's sure sure of himself!

Regy looks at Crystal and arches an eyebrow before flicking his eyes to the commanding paladin and back to the warforged, leaving the question unasked until they departed DuBaeli's office.

He does take the paper and look it over for whatever details might be included.

[Zrinfael]

"To the best of my knowledge, the closest relative is over a week by lightning coach. His full dossier is in the scroll."

The scroll supports DuBaeli's memory, and indicates no visits ever from family members, very few friends, and no significant other.

[GimliFett]

Regy d'Velderan

Regy gently clears his throat. "Beg pardon, Inquisitor. Is it possible d'is was his purpose all along? He doesn't seem ta have made much've an impression on anyone 'roun' here. Nothin' positive, anyway. From what I've heard an' read of Makrenii so far, he sounds like a plant as my more investigative family members might say."

[Nerd-o-rama]

"A spy?" Alistair asks. "That's not impossible, but it's very unlikely. There are easier ways to gain access to objects like these than imitating a Paladin candidate."

After thinking for a second, he reconsiders. "However, it would make sense if Makrenii felt himself unworthy of knighthood and, in his weakness, was tempted to defection by one of the Church's enemies. The end result is the same."

[kpenguin]

Alarich

Alarich strokes his goatee thoughtfully.

"If Makrelli is working for an organization that opposes the church, or, worse, if he is possessed by a wretched fiend, then we shall certainly face an enemy far greater than a knight school drop-out"

He turns to the rather arrogant paladin.

"Certainly one that might delay our efforts for more than a day"

Alarich pauses for a moment to think.

"...if this is true, the box may already be out of his hands."

[Charm Caster]

Paine:

“Sir. We will have Makrenii back to you within the day. Is there any record of his family outside of Flamekeep? Might he try to leave the city?”

Paine narrowed her eyes, but kept her head unmoving, as though the empty spot on the wall she stared at opposite to her had just said that. Her mind stretched for distracting details to keep her from opening her mouth. Giving voice to her words had only ever resulted in arguments in Flamekeep. The most eager distraction she could find was how bountifully devoid the walls were. They lacked in the way of varied or variegating paintings. A fine showing of the lack of imagination the old inquisitor probably had.

This scarcely held her mind for long. Paine listened quietly to everything said, but came back to the question of how such a compassionate, selfless man could unwittingly become a cruel, stupid leader.

It had often occurred to her that Silver Flame holy knights had a lit stick up their less sunny side; the regular divining rods clearly not being uncomfortable enough. They took their edict to bring light to all benighted areas that much more seriously than others. As a paladin of their same deity, the venerated Silver Flame, Paine had even wondered if she were becoming the same. Had become the same. Especially today.

Today, which bequeathed itself the day that she was not a squalid squire in the eyes of the Church, but instead became one of the representatives they were themselves resentful of. Even then, when realizing her training had been gone through as thoroughly as a knife through a back, she was unsure if she had become any different. But now she knew she hadn't.

Paine barely managed to remain deadpan when she heard Alistair proclaim they would have their varlet within the day. She knew she hadn't become like the many paladin's of Flamekeep in that second. After all, even for every horrid action she had ever wittingly done in her life, Paine had never acted in such an insensitively idiotic fashion. She had never been so unaware of her words that she would unwittingly damn others around her. Alistair was different.

Alistair, in the brief time she had first met him, appeared to be surprisingly goodhearted. He was awkwardly wonderful for his inability to treat her with undue hostility. In a way, she had hated it, because it meant he had probably received worst treatment from superiors and peers alike. When he was transferred out of her training group, she had wanted the best for him.

But not now. Now, by being given the scroll, he was designated as the leader of this operation. He must have known that. He was likely also aware that, when they failed to catch the stranger in the large city within the time limit, the one Alistair had set for them all, that the blame would never so much as dawdle on his broad, beautiful shoulders. It certainly wouldn't trouble the bald bookworm to Paine's right. Or the half-elf girl to her left. Instead, trouble would always track and trample down on the demon-tainted one first. She shifted uneasily. If Paine's superiors felt generous, then the warforged called Crystal might be the next lucky victim.

The tiefling's eyebrows furrowed, but she remained silent and straight-backed. Her opinions often meant little to others. Unless she felt they were especially useful, Paine tried not to waste her breath on them. The people, that is. She was sure some of her opinions were worthwhile. Thankfully, the colossal Church and its small-minded individuals meant little to her.

“If Makrelli is working for an organization that opposes the church, or, worse, if he is possessed by a wretched fiend, then we shall certainly face an enemy far greater than a knight school drop-out. Certainly one that might delay our efforts for more than a day.”

Paine smirked slightly. The words were the kind of candy counterpoint that would be the most easily eaten up excuse by a dour superior like DuBaeli.





Summary: Paine became a paladin today. Thinks most paladins are stuck up. Finds what Alistair says troubling, but doesn't say anything because it's been made clear her opinion means little to any normal Church-go-er. She thinks that the time limit of one day to find this person is only going to have her see trouble if/when they all fall short. She assumes that it failing won't have any real problems for anyone else except maybe Crystal.

If you're wondering why I put your dialogue into my post, it's so you have a rough idea of where the my intro is in terms of time. And it makes chunks of prose less boring when you have some sort of dialogue. Why I didn't put my own is because I just doubted I could speak freely in the circumstances. Or, I just don't trust anyone right off the start to speak freely. :O

Anyway, Paine currently doesn't know the name of anyone that isn't Crystal or Alistair.

[Mantid]

Crystal (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/view.php?id=74252)

The large construct remains quiet through the speculation and brief questions. It wasn't her place to guess at why the trainee had run away, or rather, there was no need for her to know. The order was to find the boy and bring him back. Although his reasons may be interesting, his motivation didn't change those simple orders.

She noticed Regy make some kind of gesture at her earlier. She wasn't sure what he meant, something about Alistair, it seemed. He was an interesting one, if only because he was one of the few she had met in Thane that showed an overt interest in her beyond a tool. He reminder her of a friend back in her assemblage, curious and handy.

"Inquisitor DuBaeli," Crystal says at last with a slight, apologetic bow. "Can we assume that Mr. Makrenii's quarters and property has already been searched for clues to where he may be headed? Are we granted access and permission to search what he has left behind for ourselves?"

[Zrinfael]

DuBaeli arches an old withered eyebrow. "The possibility of the boy's working for an outside agency has not been unconsidered by we who understand the situation more fully. The knighthood does not comprehend the value of the item taken, nor can they be allowed to, though perhaps they would have taken more extreme measures if they did. The boy's room has not been searched, nor his closest friends questioned. As a functioning arm of the inquisition of the Silver Flame, you do have the authority to do both those things."

[Nerd-o-rama]

"In that case, we should start with them," Alistair says. "We need more information before we begin looking for Makrenii himself. Where might we find an associate of his to get started?"

He turns to the group to give his thoughts. "To start our investigation, I believe Lady Paine and I should start interviewing Makrenii's acquaintances while Mr. d'Velderan, Mr. Dian, and Ms. Teishi ((whose player is apparently joining us soon)) should begin a search of his room. I'm not as familiar with Ms. Crystal's or Mr. Schein's abilities, so you can go with whichever group you think you're suited to. Any objections? Did I mistake anyone's specialty?"

[Qualia]

Tieran

The bald Archivist stared up at Inquisitor DuBaeli, his mind attempting to figure what the inquisitor meant by what he had said, and what he hadn't said. He hadn't mentioned what the box did, and what was in it, and he seemed to have chosen his words carefully. Clearly he didn't want to tell us, but perhaps it was a test. Did he want the box, or the contents of the box? Why was it of interest to the inquisition, but not the knighthood? He decided he needed to engage with BuBaeli, but what phrasing to use?

"Am I to believe you want the box back, or are there any contents? Does it have any properties that could help us to identify it, or who may be interested in it?"

[kpenguin]

Alarich

The wizard rolls his eyes at Tieran's questioning. It was obvious that the inquisitor intended to keep the information to himself.

He turns to his paladin leader.

"I shall go with you, Sir... Alastair, for surely looking into the minds of the interrogated would be a greaaat boon!"

OOC: I have one scroll of detect thoughts and a wand of charm person (10 charges)

[Mantid]

Crystal (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/view.php?id=74252)

"I will accompany the search party," Crystal responds with a nod.

[Zrinfael]

"The contents of the box are not really any of your concern. You would be unable to open the box to verify the contents anyways. The scroll contains a detailed description of the box, and it radiates a strong aura of good."

OOC: I'll give you guys a little more time to finish up any banter then we'll move on to the let's split up gang plan unless something changes in the meantime.

[Nerd-o-rama]

((Can Alistair get directions on who to talk to? I don't think the Scroll of Mission Data mentioned any friends or contacts.))

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran strokes his chin whilst mulling over the inquisitors reply, wondering what was in the box. Was he trying to perk my interest? Whilst considering the implications he turns to Alistair.

"May I peruse the contents of the scroll before we begin our investigations?"

[Zrinfael]

You can go bang on the door of the Sergent of the knight training ward and get any or all of the trainees listed on the scroll brought to you. You'll be able to get shown to his rooms the same way.

Let's see if I can guess what you're looking for in the scroll. It does indeed have an extremely detailed description of the box. It's made of smooth dark iron, with delicate silver lattice work, much of that forming symbols of magic, though some decorative. There is no keyhole, nor any obvious ways of opening the box, beyond that, the box is protected by extremely powerful sealing and fortification spells. The box radiates strong abjuration as well as good. There's nothing in the scroll about the inside of the box itself, nor the contents of the box.

For reference, the Sergent of the knight training ward is Sergent Venner. The trainees listed on the scroll that Makrenii associates with are Arthur Nasmile, Friedrich Havera, and Edward Acrennich.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair salutes, and turns to leave. "By your leave then, sir, we'll go speak to Sergeant Venner, if no one else has business here."

On his way out, he does make a comment to the Inquisitor, still in the same matter-of-fact fashion. "I may have been overenthusiastic in my predicted results. It hadn't occurred to me that Makrenii might be working with somebody outside the Church. I promise to be more cautious with my words in the future, sir."

[kpenguin]

Alarich

Alarich gives a little smirk at Alastair's take-back as he follows him out the door.

[Wynterborne]

Teishi rises gracefuly from her lotus position and in a quiet voice says "Please, mi'lord paladin, may I see the list of people we seek? I may be able to help find them.
Paitient eyes of one used to being obeyed belie her manner, as she holds out her hand.

[Nerd-o-rama]

"Oh, Miss Teishi," Alistair says, caught by surprise by the quiet half-elf speaking up. "I was thinking you'd want to go with the search group, but if you think you'll be more help with the interviews..." he hands her the list of names. "Though we should probably speak to the sergeant first regardless."

[Wynterborne]

Teishi gives a half-bow. "One hopes that I may be of some help in this search, mi'lord."

Scanning the list quickly she gives a sharp nod. "Indeed the sergeant is a wise choice for a starting point." Turning towards the door, she follows the group out.

[Zrinfael]

The lot of you make your way to Sergeant Venner's quarters, and run into him just as he's leaving to make the morning rounds. He gives Paine a bit of the ol' drill sergeant's evil eye, but seems entirely too delighted to have an excuse to roll several of his trainees out of bed this early.

He directs one of them to show those of you who are inspecting Makrenii's old quarters to them, and takes the rest of you to get the three personally. Barking at them as he pulls them out of bed. "Up you miserable son of a goat! Even yer grandmomma has more spring to her step! There's a lady in the room! Get dressed and fall in! Double time! You call those boots clean?!?" Chasing them from one end of their rooms to the other.

You can choose to speak with the three en masse, one of them at a time and all of you, or split them amongst yourselves and do several 1 on 1 type sessions at the same time. They all agree that Makrenii wasn't long for the knighthood and aren't terribly surprised that he bolted. If you reveal that he stole something from the scholars, they appear quite shocked and tell you they'd never guess he had the stones to do something like that. They aren't sure where he'd go, or who might know. If you want to try to get more information out of them, toss out your pitch and roll your intimidate/bluff/diplomacy (whichever suits what you're trying to do). If more than one of you are in the room with them and you choose to both try the same/similar method, please pick one of you to roll and the other(s) may roll to assist.

Those who are searching the room, the young knight in training opens the door and turns ghostly white, his hands shaking horribly. "Oh no, oh no!" Pushing past him, you see the room has been completely turned upside down and torn apart. There is mattress linings strewn around the room, the small desk has been broken and bits of wood lie everywhere. "The Sergeant is gunna cook someone's hide when he sees this!" The young man stutters out. He steps back into the hallway, swallows hard and takes a few deep breaths. "L-let me know when you're done here, I've do a damage inventory after and then..." He turns a shade further white and barely whispers: "I gotta let the Sergeant know."
The room is destroyed, everything that wasn't bolted down appears to be smashed or gone, even the bed frame appears to have suffered some abuse. It doesn't look much like a struggle, there's no sign of blood and the walls are clean. A cursory investigation reveals nothing else of interest. Please pick one person to roll a search check and the rest of you roll to assist.

[Mantid]

Crystal (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/view.php?id=74252)

Crystal surveys the damaged room. "Such a waste," she mumbles before she awaits orders on how she should help the search.


Crystal will assist... I'm sure there's some else with better searching skills!

Not sure if you wanted a roll or just an assist bonus, but here's one just in case:
[roll0]

Edit: Heh. I think Crystal just added to the destruction! :smalltongue:

[Nerd-o-rama]

Basic training. Separate the witnesses/suspects.

After thanking the sergeant for his help, Alistair suggests that Paine, Alerich, and himself interview the trainees one at a time in a separate room. While the first one waits, he takes the others aside for a moment. "Alright. Mr. Schein, you use your mind-reading spell and tell us if the questioning makes him think of anything interesting. Lady Paine, if it's not too much trouble, perhaps you could try throw the witness off-balance? It's not a technique I've put much of my own time into learning, but I understand it's considered a proper technique in this sort of investigation. I'll ask him questions, you encourage him to answer them truthfully, that sort of thing."

With the witness...

"I'll get straight to the point," he says to whichever interviewee is first. "In his haste to leave, Makrenii has stolen something from the Church, an object of great value. This recovery of this relic has been given the highest priority by our superiors, and any aid in its recovery will be extremely well-regarded. It could make a substantial difference in the Church's evaluation of your own training, I imagine. Can you recall anything that might help us? Anything strange happening to him in the last few days or weeks? Any mention of plans once he left training?"

[roll0] (InvisibleCastle is still dead...sadface)

((Sorry to skip around like that, but I wanted to get the actual dice-rolling out of the way while I had time. Modifiers using The Giant's Diplomacy are probably Acquaintance (Positive) -2 and Favorable -5, or at least that's what I'm going for.))

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran stops to take stock as he enters the room. Does it look like someone was searching for something, or were they covering up any evidence?

"This much damage would have to make some noise. Young man, when would someone have an opportunity to do this without anyone hearing? When was the room last inspected?"

Tieran then stooped to examine the debris. Was a weapon used to do this? Probably some kind of bludgeoning weapon.

"What is the standard weaponry carried here? Can you bring it to me."

He continued to make his way slowly and carefully around the room, trying to recreate the destruction so as to discover its purpose. Imaginary swings were experimented with to try to determine the damage caused.


Search [roll0]

[kpenguin]

Alarich

Alarich nods, and pulls out his scroll of Detect Thoughts.

"I only have one, so be sure to ask the right questions, Sir Alastair"

The mage opens the scroll and reads off it. The arcane writing on the piece of parchment begin to glow. His chant starts as a whisper, gradually becoming louder.

"Reveal to me your mind!
Your thoughts shall flow to me!
No longer shall your thoughts be secrets!
AN OPEN BOOK YOUR MIND SHALL BE!"

OOC: Detect thoughts (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/detectThoughts.htm), DC 15

[Nerd-o-rama]

((Could you specify you cast that in the other room or not in Common? Otherwise it would sort of defeat the purpose.))

[Zrinfael]

Eh, he'll still be able to read their minds they'd just know he was doing it :smalltongue:. I'm going to hold on the questioning bits 'till Paine's had a chance to throw in her two cents.

The from where the pieces are lying and the impact marks, you'd guess that the desk was smashed into the bed frame, same with the chair. The mattress was slashed with something that has an edge but is easily maneuverable; think knife or dagger, nothing much heavier or larger.
The trainee answers you from the hall, "We spend most of every day out in the practice fields, so the bunks are empty during sun-up. They're inspected every morning just as we're starting our drills. We aren't really supposed to have any weaponry at all in our rooms. We're allowed to keep a knife for defense as well as hobbies or general use. All the weapons we train with are checked out from the training field's armory then checked back in every evening. As far as I'm aware there are no weapons missing, there's usually a lot of shouting and making us all stand in lines for hours when that happens."
Under shreds of wood and bits of cloth you find several bits of torn parchment. It looks like two sheets, one is the dull off-white of official church paper, with some of the pieces having bits of an embossed seal or stamp on it. The other paper seems to be standard parchment. The official looking stuff has neatly penned writing on it while the normal stuff has words written sloppily in shorthand. You seem to have all the pieces, torn and crumpled as they are. You'll be able to piece both together though it will take some time (or a well placed spell :smallwink:).

[Charm Caster]

Paine

Paine yawned, her body announcing a want for her bed. She waved the vague fatigue back down her throat with her sword hand, the offhand grasping the hilt of her greatsword. When refocusing, she realized Sergeant Venner had been trying to offer unpleasant eye contact yet again. She smiled at him. The hope budded in her that the good sergeant would misunderstand the yawn as disinterest in his disdain.

The entire time she had known the sergeant, she had never thought his dislike of her was drenched purely in thoughts of her blood. His eyes had told her that much about the overbearing loudmouth. Having already encountered hatred; true blind malice that seethed in the soul, long before meeting him, she knew the sergeant lacked it.

What was the true demon in his eyes – the aspect Venner abhorred absolutely when he saw her – was her attitude. The sergeant loved to yell and Paine loathed to listen. His yelling was like the bleating of a lamb to a satisfied predator. The sound was rewarded with apathy or annoyance, but never anger or angst. If she had been allowed to speak between the shouting, she might have cared enough to explain that a little noise unaccompanied by a mob may as well have been birdsong. But there had been little time to consider this as he never shut up back then. Now, he held his tongue, and she took this as a silent victory over Venner.

They walked to where the would-be witnesses were, before the other knight pulled the apparent diviner and herself aside to mention an interesting plan.

“Lady Paine, if it's not too much trouble, perhaps you could try throw the witness off-balance? It's not a technique I've put much of my own time into learning, but I understand it's considered a proper technique in this sort of investigation. I'll ask him questions, you encourage him to answer them truthfully, that sort of thing.”

“Sir Alistair,” she paused, as though considering her words, when really her memory had only bashfully admitted that this was the first paladin she had ever addressed kindly by his title. It was almost stranger than being called Lady without the expected scorn or sarcasm. “It'd be a pleasure. Just keep in mind I'm on your side, regardless of what I may say...”

After the discussion and as the first friend of Makrenii was being delivered the pitch, Paine listened to Alistair's pitch. She thought it sounded persuasive. But there was no telling if Makrenii's lack of care for a Church career was mutual within any of them. It was best to try and go another route.

“Pointless,” Paine spat the word. “Why do you offer him deliverance from me? Do you think this cohort of Makrenii is to care about furthering some damned Church career? I was not summoned to listen to the dead dialect of diplomacy. We both know the boy will not accept. His superiors even said I may...play...with the child should he refuse. His silence is proof enough of disinterest.”

Vows of violence would make the most sense in explaining why one of her kind was with an investigative team. There would be no better being than a tiefling to act in an ugly way that might be necessary to extract information while keeping moralistic men from such actions. Of course, the bluff was clambering to work off of notions of cruelty in her kind that were prodded into most children by parents and peers.

Mentioning Alistair as trying to save the witness through diplomacy would hopefully explain why a paladin might otherwise tolerate the presence of a possibly evil being. Goodwill and forthright words would be the assumed weapons of justice for the presumed saviour. Meanwhile, what supposed superior had arranged this was left unnamed so that the witness could have fun filling in the gap. A part of her considered that the face of Venner would feint from a troubled mind. He could be a downright vindictive man at times. Hopefully all of that would pile up to work well enough to have the squire blurt out any retained information.

Scaring small children, Paine thought wryly, the tiefling's pastime at bedtime since the start of time.







Bluff check ---

[roll0]
Add 13 to that from my ranks and synergy stuff to get the total.


Summary of Post: Paine wants little squire to believe evil tiefling trying to earn chance to "play" with them and that the nice paladin Alistair is offering one chance of that not happening.


I probably shouldn't be typing all night, but that's what being tired with energy drinks in your body does. I just hope I don't sleep, wake up, and wonder what I was thinking with this. D:

[kpenguin]

((Could you specify you cast that in the other room or not in Common? Otherwise it would sort of defeat the purpose.))

((I assumed Alarich followed Alastair & Paine into the interrogation room))

[Nerd-o-rama]

((Don't worry about it.))

[Zrinfael]

I'll assume you two are running basically the same tact with each of your interviewees with Alarich doing the mind sleuth thing. Split up by name of interviewee then.

Arthur Nasmile
He looks fairly shaken up at Paine's suggestion, his eyes are big he's looking at Alistair desperately. "Honest'ly I dunno nothin! 'Arold just up'n cracked I reckon! 'E was always mopin' about 'ow 'at girlie don' like 'im and 'ow tha sergeant hates 'im!" He looks at Paine briefly then back to Alistair. "I dunno tha name o' tha girl, 'e jus said 'ed knocked 'er up an she din' want no more with 'im. Sometimes we'd 'ang around my uncle's bar, ya' could ask there!"

From a mind reading perspective, he's genuinely worried that his life is hanging in the balance here. He's being truthful when he says he doesn't know the name of Makrenii's lover and is cursing himself for not asking more about her when he had the chance. He doesn't really believe Makrenii would be at his uncle's bar, but he's just grasping for any straw to avoid Paine at this point. He has a well below average int.


Friedrich Havera
This guy seems less than impressed with the threats of harm and violence, but fairly interested in the shot at early promotion. He pointedly ignores Paine and addresses his comments to Alistair only. "I always knew he was up to no good, just the way he talked and acted. Way too full of pride to be silver flame material, not like you sir. Did you know he even got some poor local girl pregnant? The poor thing didn't know what she was getting into until too late I'd bet. No, I don't know her name, I try not to pry into things that aren't my business. I really don't know where he might have gone though, he was never very popular with anyone at all. Heck, the only reason we could visit any tavern with him around was because Arthur's uncle owns one. Even there we got kicked out a few times. Makrenii was always groping at every girl in sight, a hopeless womanizer. I always tried to steer him right, but he never listened. I've always believed in the righteous path of the flame, it's too bad not all my compatriots do, but I think I'll be passing through basic training soon." Havera continues talking on in this vein until you cut him off.

Mind Reading
Again, he doesn't know the girlfriend's name, and doesn't know where you might find Makrenii. The groping & womanizing parts seem to be true, but Makrenii was hardly the only one who indulged in that. The rest of the nonsense is just brown nosing. He has an average-slightly below average int.


Edward Acrennich
He looks Paine up and down then looks Alistair up and down. "I've heard of both of you, a model paladin, one of the fastest promoted through the ranks in the history of the flame, and a tiefling who actually managed to get herself inducted to the church. Don't get me wrong, I really don't owe Harold anything or like him enough to cover for him, but I honestly don't know anything else. He and Fred were always stirring up trouble, Arthur has always been a dunce and just went along with them. Me? Uh... I just have trouble making friends. Gotta take what you can get I suppose."

Acrennich is truthful so far as you can tell. He's berating himself the entire time for associating with folks who could harm his reputation so much. He has an average int.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair makes sure to get the name and location of Arthur's uncle's pub, and otherwise simply assures each of them that their cooperation is greatly appreciated. Arthur "should have nothing to worry about, you've been very helpful," Alistair "may put in a good word with your instructors, Sir Friedrich, and I look forward to seeing where you go in the knighthood," and Edward is thanked for his time and candor. Alistair asks all of them to let himself, Inquisitor DuBaeli, or anyone else in this investigation team know if they think of anything else, and says they're free to go if there's nothing else.

[Qualia]

Tieran

The archivist spends a couple of minutes sorting the ripped up parchment into two piles, one off-white, one standard. Once that has been done, and a final check completed for any missing parts, Tieran starts to utter some arcane words in an ancient language as he attempts to mend the two documents.


Cast Mending twice

[Wynterborne]

As much as she hated to admit it, being small and unobstrusive had its uses, Tieshi thought to herself as she quietly slipped away from the group. "There must be others who knew the boy, or something about him, that were not on the list. I shall try to find someone else to speak to that knows something, perhaps not important at the time, that may help explain this mystery." she thinks to herself. Looking around the barracks, she tries to catch the eye of a servant....

[Charm Caster]

In her silence, Paine wondered if she should apologize to the squire Arthur. Extracting a little information was her intention. Outright terrorizing someone was not. She guessed his friends would point out his gullibility later. But the result for the first was surprising considering it wasn't near her finest bluff. The others were about as fazed as a mountain face by hot air. Her ego encouraged the excuse that minimal sleep wasn't the best aphrodisiac when it came to arousing viable stories.

Glancing at the other paladin, Paine put in blandly, “Sir Alistair, if there's anything left around here to find, it's going to be with the other group. They'll likely not have turned up much about anything we have, either.”

I wanted to lie/bluff in other ways, not just one. :(

Oh well. I'm sure there'll eventually be more people that'll need diplomacy or bluffing...

That's probably not a good thing.

But I need to stop posting in the middle of the night.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair nods. "Right. We'll meet up with them, and then check out this pub. That seems to be the best lead we have, unless they've found something..."

If there's not objections, Alistair's group will head for Makrenii's dorm.

[kpenguin]

Alarich

As the mage walks with the two paladins, he relates the contents of the interrogated trainee knights' thoughts.

"The first fellow, Nasmile, was stricken with a intense fear, no doubt thanks to you, Lady Paine. He speaks the truth about Makrenii's girl, and was cursing himself for not knowing her name. He doesn't honestly believe Makrenii is at the bar. He was simply saying whatever he could to get away from Lady Paine.

The second one, Havera, is a disgustingly weak sycophant. He tells the truth, however, though his thoughts seemed to imply Makrenii was not the only one who couldn't keep his eyes and hands to himself around the ladies. A despicably weak man.

The last, Acrennich, cares far too much about his status and reputation. Still, possibly the smartest of the bunch. He speaks the truth and, like Nasmile, curses himself for not recalling the girl's name."

[Zrinfael]

Tieshi - There are a few folks running around who might qualify as orderlies, but nobody who stands out as a servant, and certainly nobody who seems to have the time to ask you if there's something you might need. If you want to talk to someone else you'll have to grab an arm or something.

Folks in the room - The plain paper is a horribly horribly written love letter to a Jasmine, there is no surname mentioned, though apparently her hair looks brown as dirt after a spring rain and her eyes shine like a freshly scrubbed latrine. From the gist of the letter, you gather, unsurprisingly, that the relationship between the writer of the letter and Jasmine is stressed or outright non-existent.

The official script is a performance review from the good Sergeant Venner. Makrenii failed in every way as a soldier as well as a knight of the silver flame. Venner candidly states that Makrenii should be failed from the program based on his lack of moral conviction coupled with his inability to perform physically. Beyond that Makrenii noted to be extremely cowardly in stressful situations and prone to temper tantrums.

There are lots and lots more opportunities for you to fence wits yet charm, no worries. :)

[GimliFett]

Regy d'Velderan

The young artificer cracks a smile as he finishes reading the letter. "Hoh. I guess d'ere's no accountin' fer upbringin', eh?"

"I also wonder how evert'ing here could be smashed wit' nun d'e wiser. D'at's odd ta me."

Zrinfael:So sorry for lack of posting. I'll do better! :smallbiggrin: I got busy and things seemed to get away from me. I wanted to make sure I had read everything before posting again.
Also, is there a window in the room?
And if needed for earlier: [roll0]

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran scratches at his chin as he studies the evidence before him.

"Clearly we need to speak with this Jasmine. Whether she was interested in him, he was clearly interested in her and is likely to have made his way to her after leaving if he was under his own mind. The important question is who did this to his room? Hmm."

The archivist stood and stared at the room, waiting for inspiration to strike, or failing that, his new comrades to return from the interviews. He didn't like having to rely on other people, what if there was some clue that they had missed that he would have seen? Did any of them mention the girl? Did they get a description of her?

[Zrinfael]

There is no window in this room, and don't worry about the posting bit, I'm expecting it to be a little slow for awhile given the transition out of summer.

Going back over his room with a fine tooth comb, you find little bits of something under his mattress lining (a craft:alchemy, profession:cook, knowledge nature, heal, or the equivalent DC:10 reveals this to be bits of ginger root which is commonly used in a variety of cooking recipies as well as medicinal recipes). Makrenii seems to be rather lax on his laundry, and close inspection of the pillow cases shows him to have a dandruff problem. Otherwise, nothing of interest.

Next time one of y'all from the interview group choose to post you guys can reach the folks in the room.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair and the others arrive at the room, Alistair looking around in slightly disgusted wonder at the mess. "I hope it was like this when you found it?" he suggests. "Anyway, Makrenii's 'friends' gave us one consistent lead; some local girl Makrenni had some kind of relationship with. Did you find anything?"

[Mantid]

Crystal

"The room destroyed before we arrived, Sir Alistair," Crystal replies. "We discovered pieces of letters that Mr. Dian pieced back together. A rather unflattering performance review and a flattering description of the girl in question, I believe.

"Do we know where the miss is to be found? If so, we should head there immediately."

[Qualia]

Tieran

The archivist looks up as Alistair's group returns.

"The girl's name was Jasmine, she had brown hair and eyes like a freshly scrubbed latrine. I've no idea what colour that is so we should stop by the latrines here to find out.

Sgt Venner's report stated that Makrenii was both physically and morally unsuitable and should be failed from training. That may have been the catalyst for running, especially if Jasmine rejected him.

If there's nothing else, we should get going."

[Nerd-o-rama]

"This is beginning to sound more like a run in desperation than something premeditated," Alistair observes. "That's good, but we still don't know where he's gone. I guess finding Jasmine, or someone else at this bar who knew him, is our best lead. Any objections?"

[GimliFett]

Regy d'Velderan

"Sounds like a plan ta me, Al," Regy says with a grin. "Who'd've t'ot an artificer'd end up doin' inquisitive work? I guess it's just in the Tharashk blood, non?" He waves towards the door. "Lead on, mighty one. Assumin' ya know where d'is bar is?"

Zrinfael:For completeness' sake: [roll0]

[kpenguin]

OOC: Come ooon, guys.

Alarich

Indeed we do. The location was both spouted from the fellows mouth and plucked from the depths of his mind. Let us be off, then. Sir Alastair, if you would lead the way?

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair nods. "Absolutely."

"Although...I can't say I've been to that part of the city personally."

(Guess we can go to the bar if it's not particularly difficult to find.)

[Zrinfael]

The Stagmuzzle bar&grub is in a seedy part of town, well, as seedy as it gets around here. The building looks fairly dilapidated, lumber siding suffering from wet rot and paint peeling. Wafting from the open door is the acrid scent of vomit mingles with burnt pork. Stepping inside, you see the place is all but empty, most of the nighttime revelers having long since retired. Two fellows are hunched over a table in a dark corner, a portly woman looking to be in her mid 30s is scrubbing furiously at a nasty looking chunk of something crusted onto a table. A midsized bald man behind the counter glances up as you enter. "Welcome there, I'm sorry, but we're closed for the day, you'll have to come back later tonight."

[Qualia]

Tieran

The bald archivist flashes a mirthless smile. "I'm afraid we're not here for your hospitality." He surveys the scene, looking to see if there is anything that seems out of place.


Search check [roll0]


"I wonder if we could have a few moments of your time to ask you a few questions."

[GimliFett]

Regy d'Velderan

Regy waits on Alistair to identify the group as agents of the Church.

[Nerd-o-rama]

"As my associate said, we're here on Church business, not regular business," Alistair states. "Although I'm sure your food is quite...lovely," he adds, without any sarcasm, but with plenty of honest doubt.

"We're looking for information on a man who parted ways with the knighthood very recently. Harold Makrenni. I understand he was a regular customer here. Anything of interest you can tell us about him?"

[Zrinfael]

"Harold Makrenay? 'Es one who runs around with my little Arthur yeah?" The barkeep shakes his head and comes around the counter tossing a dingy rag on the stained wood. "I'm Gerome Nasmile, pleasure to be at yer service." He offers a greasy hand towards the group of you, at no one in particular. Low orange flames from the bar's fireplace shine off the sweat on Gerome's head. "I don't know much about Harold aside that he was bad for business. If he's gone and left, I can't say as I'll miss him much. All the same, I got some time, so go ahead and ask yer questions."

You guys can do sense motive, diplomacy, bluff, intimidate and the like as you see fit. Just let me know who's doing what and in what order.

Tieran: Nothing really seems out of place per se, the two folks at a table on the far side of the bar clutch their coats around them to ward off the early morning's chill, the maid spared you all a nervous glance when you mentioned the bit about asking questions and Alastair the bit about church business. The fire is poorly tended and will probably burn out within the hour if nobody saves it. The tables, floor, and bar stools are a mess, the place is poorly lit, and it smells awful. You're not sure how drunk you'd have to be to actually want to spend time here. It's quiet but for the ssshhh ssshhh of the barmaid scrubbing tables, the hushed voices of the last two customers talking and the occasional pop from the fire.

For reference, it's still very early morning, the sun is up, though there are plenty of clouds and a deep morning haze. The city proper is just beginning to stir, while the seedier establishments, nightclubs and bars are closing up.

[Qualia]

OOC


What colour were the 'freshly scrubbed' latrines (Jasmine's eyes)?

[Zrinfael]

Well, the latrines in the cathedral are made of a light blue/gray masonry. A decent number of them are badly stained though, so it could be the color of the latrines themselves, or it could be brown.

The barmaid's eyes are brown, though her hair is raven black.

[Mantid]

Crystal

The warforged stays near the entrance of the bar, watching and listening to the conversation and her surroundings as best she can. Interacting with non-warforged wasn't her best skill. It was best to leave the talking and investigation to those with more practice and experience. Many in Thane didn't care to listen to a warforged anyhow. Best she could do is stand ready for any expected surprises.


[roll0]
[roll1]

[Charm Caster]

Paine

The stale air and squalid bar reminding Paine of many fun and fearful nights. They were often the same. But listening to what was said, the impulse to shake her head was resisted, although the doubt that the bartender would have answers for them wasn't. Bartenders could easily be swamped on busy nights, and might never glance at half the faces that entered their taverns. He would contend mainly with the cockroaches that crowded around his counter. Meanwhile, others seeking refuge could hide unseen in other corners in his bar.

The sight of the woman scrubbing the table affected a knowing smile from Paine then. Barmaids would have to saunter about everyone; seeing, speaking and serving. If anyone knew the faces, names and nature of those the group sought, it would be her. Already on the outskirts of the group as Paine normally put herself when paired with others, she walked to the working woman.

“Not to interrupt your work, but would you care to say anything you know of Makrenay's whereabouts? He's of a lot of interest to the church due to a theft.”

Paine had intended to go quiet then, yet the earlier tact of Alistair tottered around her head. Diplomacy had never been open-handed with results before, but she had never held any type of remotely respectable status then. She was used to giving threats, veiled or vaunted, to get results, but the idea of pointlessly inspiring fear in others was sickly.

As an afterthought, she said with a glance at the staunch stain on the table, “You should know, the church is always looking for fine ways to humble its squires. If you say something particularly useful about Makrenay, I would bring up at Flamekeep how scrubbing a few tables here and helping clean up would improve discipline in our trainees.”



Diplomacy check: [roll0]

Add 7 to the 1d20 roll due to my sheet skill points.

[Charm Caster]

Diplomacy check:

Again because it didnt work in my post. Add 7 to the end result too.

[roll0]

[Qualia]

Tieran

Surveying the scene, and knowing that he got on better with books than people, the archivist searched the walls, examing the grafetti that is often carved into the walls. His eyes also fell across the tables, searching for inscriptions there as well.


Decipher Script [roll0]

[Zrinfael]

Paine:
The barmaid flashes you a nervous and apprehensive smile while the barkeep gives you an exasperated look. "Thankee m'lady, though I don' be mil'tary materiel m'self." She fidgets with her rag "I hae'nt seen master Makri-mi drinkin here in a good few days. Have yah talked to little Miss Atari? I don' think she be likin' him, but he been takin a shine to her I hear. She us'lly stays near 'er poppa's herb shop down south o' town."

Tieran:
The tables are caked with scum and crud, there's not much to see there unless you feel inclined to give the barmaid a hand and clean off the tops of the things. Though, you have a suspicion that if you did clean the tables off, it'd be the first time the tops of the tables have seen clean air in years. The writing on the walls that you can read covers everything from declarations of eternal love to 'watch out, the eyes are everywhere'. Nothing jumps out at you in particular, nor do you see Makrenii's name on the walls.

Crystal:
You don't notice anything of real interest, you see a young rat, maybe a three months old scurry out a small crack in the floor, grab a tidbit of some forgotten crust, then scurry back down to whatever is below the bar. The two in the corner are speaking in tones too hushed for you to make out specifically what they're saying, though you think the gist of the conversation is a business transaction.

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran makes his way over to the two men on the far side of the bar. He nods his head in greeting.

"Morning. I wonder if either of you two gentleman can help us find Harold Makrenay. There may be a reward for information which leads us to him."

[GimliFett]

Regy d'Velderan

Bored, Regy wanders around the common room, keeping an ear on the conversation between Alistair and the 'keeper, but looking for anything unusual in the room: symbols carved on stone or wood or other odd occurrences.

[Zrinfael]

Regy: The floor creaks loudly as you walk around the room, avoiding dark slick spots of unsavory liquids. There are a great many scratches in the tables, chairs, and woodwork, some you might be inclined to call carvings were you in an extremely generous mood. The vast majority are horribly crude, and all seem to be phallic or sexual in some other way.

Tieran: As you approach one of the men takes a small object wrapped in cloth from the table and draws it into his robes. That man then turns to you, he is covered from head to toe in dark tattered cloth, his head and face also covered but for a slit to see his eyes. The flesh on the bridge of his nose is the palest white you've ever seen skin be, and bits of it seem to be flaking off, his eyes are green, but the whites are riddled with red veins. He addresses you in a voice that sounds as though he gargles with glass every evening. "Good morning mister inquisitor, I'm afraid I don't know any Makrenay, Harold or otherwise. I'm not but a traveling peddler of wares, though if you're in the market for trinkets I am certain I have something that would interest you." He takes a small pouch that jingles slightly and places it on the table, then withdraws a heavily gloved hand to his robes.
The other man takes the small pouch quickly, opens it, and looks into it for a few moments, snaps the strings shut and pockets it with a sour look on his face. He is lean to the point of being gaunt, a large sharp nose is the predominant feature of his face. Brown beady eyes dart around the room glancing over each of the people in your group. He speaks with a sneer "Whassamatter? Someone din't find yer light? Din't do enuff kissin on yer bum? I don gotta answer you." At that he stands and begins to make his way to the door, being sure to bump roughly into you as he passes.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair, meanwhile, asks the barman for some more information. "Yes, actually, Makrenii has apparently left the service of the Church, but we still have a few questions for him. Aside from your nephew and any other knights, did you ever see Makrenii associating with anyone here? Anyone suspicious, or unexpectedly friendly to him?"

((Basic Diplomacy check, +0 conditional mods I believe.

Diplomacy (1d20 8=14) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1733726/)))

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran turns to stare after the man who barged into him, then turns back to the man dressed in rags and takes the recently vacated seat and pulls out a cigarette and flint. He pops the cigarette in his mouth and lights it with the flint. "I've got my light right here." He inhales deeply then breathes out the pale blue smoke. "Well if you are nought but a simple peddlar of wares, perhaps you can help me. I'm in the market for a small box, something secure, iron maybe with perhaps some gilded silver for decoration. Do you have anything that could help me there?"


Watch his eyes for any flicker of recognition

[Zrinfael]

Alistair - "Went 'n flew coop uh? I can't say's I'm surprised, boy was no good from the git-go. I don' recollect none bein' over friendly like wit' him, but I do know 'es been pesterin' poor lil' miss Atah-ria on account o' her da' stormin' in 'ere from time ter time. Past 'at I dun know if 'ee did much o' anythin'. Sides drinkin up on mah boy's tab." He suddenly looks serious "Act'ully, 'ee been sayin tha church were good fer payin it, an' a bonus fer bein' an upstandin cit-e-zen an' all. I don't wager there be any truth to that?"

Tieran - The merchant stares hard at you for a moment or two, reading as much into your eyes as you do his own, he slowly raises a gloved finger and scratches his veiled chin. Suddenly he stands with a flourish, nearly knocking over his chair "Yes, my good inquisitor! I have what you desire! I know precisely what you seek, and we shall find it at Yssale Longroad's Colorful Caravan of Clunky but Cute Curiosities! Simply accompany me to the Colorful Caravan of Clunky but Cute Curiosities and we shall choose for you the perfect form of your item sought made real! He then tilts his head slightly to the side, standing by the table, clearly waiting to see if you intend to stand and follow him.


Edited to make it past the forum's filter. What's another word for tilt in the sentence "He then tilts his head slightly to the side."

Also, as an aside, I misspell words and names on purpose when they're being spoken in an attempt to illustrate, via phonetics, an accent. Just so we're all on the same page about Makrenii vs Makrenay

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran smiles at the news, and stands up himself. He gestures for the merchant to lead the way, turning his head to Regy. "My friend here may have the box I've been looking for. Why don't you lend us your expert eye?" As they reach the door, Tieran motions for Crystal to join them as well.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Alistair considers. "You're going to have to talk to your nephew again about his tab," he says, "But here's something for your trouble." He hands the barman two gold pieces.

He walks over to Paine and asks if she's found out anything interesting, keeping an eye on Tieran's group as they leave. He's curious in that regard too, but is just savvy enough to know that there was probably a reason Tieran didn't beckon to one of the armored, official-looking knights.

[kpenguin]

Alarich

Alarich has been standing near the door all the while. The wizard disliked bars and the smell of inebriated drunks. He disliked alchohol in general. Sober for all of his life, he disliked anything that could cloud his senses.

If a simple drink could confuse his mind, what hope would he have against a conniving demon?

Noticing Tieran heading towards the door, Alarich grabs the opportunity to leave.

"If I might join you, Tieran? I need a bit of fresh air."

((I've been having trouble thinking of something for Alarich to do. I mean, I guess I could help interviews, but I'm out of Detect Thoughts scrolls and I think Charm Person would be a little heavy-handed))

[Zrinfael]

The robed and hooded figure you can only guess is Yssale Longroad takes you through winding back-ally and across market streets just setting up their daily wares. The morning mists rapidly burning away under the sun's warm gaze, you arrive at wagon covered in garishly bright and mish-mashed colors. Yellow-greens rubbing up against bright pinks, the top canvas looks as though a rainbow had descended upon the wagon. The nearly unbearable bright colors make Yssale's drab tattered robes seem horribly out of place.
"Welcome, welcome customers and friends! Here is where we shall find what it is you seek. I am Yssale Longroad, master of procurement of the valuable and invaluable!" Glancing over the knicknacks hanging from every available hook and nail his words seem... exaggerated. For the most part they seem worthless, old, and poorly organized.
"A box you said! Yes, I remember!" He touches gloved fingertips to hooded temples and looks intently at Tieran "A box of strongest iron with silver gilding most delicate. An important item, to be sure! Oh yes" His eyes narrow to slits "Hmmmmm YES! Yssale knows it!" He throws up his arms then quickly turns and rummages through his cart for a minute or two. He pulls up a small iron box with little hearts stamped into the iron. Delicate elven script scrawled in silver across the sides. Though you cannot read the entire thing, it looks at a glance to be a love poem, a very raunchy love poem. "This is what you seek? If it is or not, you are free to browse Yssale's wares inquisitors, it is Yssale's honor to do business with you."

While Yssale and his wagon seem ordinary enough, something here feels off, the ally is too quiet, and aside from yourselves and Yssale, there is nary a soul to be seen.

[Mantid]

Crystal

Spotting Tieran's signal, the large warforged makes her way over to the door and out to the trader's wagon.

Crystal glances around checking her surroundings before leaning forward to examine the box. "Not what I expected," she comments with some confusion. "But I suppose it could be embarrassing if it was written by an official of the Thane... Perhaps this is the wrong box. Where did you find this item? Perhaps Sir Makrenay grabbed the wrong box by mistake."

[Qualia]

Tieran

Tieran asks to examine the box. "It's not quiet what I had in mind, but it may suffice. How much do you want for it?" His eyes are darting around the wagon, searching for any sign that Yssale may worship the Mockery.


Search [roll0]


"You know, I'm always interested in the history of an item, do you know anything about this box or any previous owners?"

[Zrinfael]

Yssale brushes some imaginary dust off the box, then hands it over. "The key is in a small compartment built into the bottom." You get the feeling Yssale is smiling under his mask "I'm always pleased to meet a fellow historian. That box once belonged to a young elf nobleman in Sharn. The poor fellow was in an awful hurry to dispose of it, I am rather fortunate he happened to be possessed of the desire as I was walking by."

Yssale closes his eyes and nods, almost to himself "He had commissioned it for a young lass who had seduced him to bring shame to his family. While they were never caught in the act, the young nobleman did see fit to remove any incriminating evidence." Yssale's eyes open up and look over you all, he waggles a finger in the air "I'm afraid you'll not find the name of either elf in or on the box. Though, for the right price, everything is for sale."

He pulls from his tattered robes the small bag he had taken from the table in the bar. "As for price, I am open to negotiation. I will take coin for that, though honestly, I prefer barter. I am a collector of sorts, I find value where there seems to be little, and I do enjoy having trinkets with stories. Take this, for example." He opens the bag and pulls out a crude symbol made of twisted iron sticks melted together at odd angles. While crude, it is clearly a symbol of the Dark Six.

"I am sure you know what this is inquisitors, not terribly well made, or valuable in itself, but it has stayed here, spitting distance from the very home of the silver flame. That grants this little trinket a value all its own no?" Yssale looks sideways at the lot of you.

There are religious symbols of all sorts strewn about the cart, all of them would be Yssale's wares though, none of them seem to enjoy a particularly elevated position.

[Qualia]

Tieran

The hairs go up on the back of Tieran's neck as he sees the symbol of the Dark Six. "What a curious collection you have here Yssale, enough to interest the High Inquisitor himself." Tieran examines Yssale's wares, paying particular attention to the box and Dark Six symbol.


Knowledge Religion [roll0]
Knowledge Arcana [roll]1d20+8[/roll
Knowledge Planes [roll1]

[Qualia]

Doh :smallredface:


Knowledge Arcana [roll0]

[Mantid]

Crystal

The warforged turns to study the assortment of religious icons scattered around the small trade stop. "It is indeed a collection," she agrees. "I wish I had something from my own fate to offer. Unfortunately, my shoulder bares the only religious symbol I carry. I wish for once that I made more permanent... 'dolls', I believe I've heard non-godforged call them, to offer as part of a trade. We godforged make them as part of our meditations, shaping them as our contemplations on the Becoming God guides us. Unforutnately I am told I shape mine out of ectoplasm, making them only temporary items."