Tales of Neutral Ground IC

[Amnestic]

Kett doesn't let her irritation show - it wasn't the waitress' fault, after all. "Okay, so we've got a description at least. Urchins probably not running around the Four Kings, assuming her urchin disguise isn't just a temporary cover." She leaves it unspoken that such a trick is exactly what she did on the first meeting, it was obvious enough, they could make their own comments - verbally or otherwise. "If she makes a habit of coming around here she'll probably have a few people who know her in the nearby area, urchins especially if she passes for them. Street kids make for decent sources but they scare easy and don't tend to trust money." Her eyes flicker to Gryphon, ostentatious to the last.

"We don't need to find her ourselves, though that would be nice, just to let word get out that Arimart - specifically - is looking to make contact. Scant any other suggestions our next move should be to start putting in legwork to dig up what we can on the street, churn up enough noise." A small shrug follows. "Or we head to Four Kings, try to pick up the three week old trail there, though our direction there's not great either."

[CozJa]

Not new to hearing this kind of descriptions, Arimart smiles quitely and thanks the woman, then listens to Kett.

"I'm with you on this, a three weeks old trail is quite difficult to pick up, and it's better to look for other opportunities. Using my name could work; for what I know Renn gives tips in exchange for money, and she was unable to contact me directly, due to our warforged guests."

[(Un)Inspired]

Gryphon considers his compatriot’s remarks.

If the preferred plan is to spend a few days drinking and eating here while talking loudly about how much Prosecutor Kaessel would like to meet up with this Renn once more, then I’m all for it. As he speaks, he casually flags down a waitress and orders a glass of dark Lhazaarian Rum.

If, however, you’d rather our manhunt proceed actively; then I have a rather direct lead that should take us with some rapidity to the young Miss Renn. I’ve fostered quiet a close relationship, if you’ll excuse my impertinence, with a sort of matriarch of the halflings in the port district. No halfling business occurs in the district without her knowledge of it. We could simple speak to her, explain our position, and let her build the social bridge to the young woman for us.

Of course, Madam Kett, this is your operation. I’m just your humble hireling. If the idea of a direct approach makes you as anxious as the thought of using magic, then perish the thought and we can continue to enjoy Sir Kleris’ gracious hospitality.

[Amnestic]

Kett closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She was going to throw him in the sea if this kept up, damn the consequences. Making sure not to hide her frustrations, she responds to him. "Thank you, Gryphon. As you've managed to point out in the most roundabout and needlessly smug fashion, yes, plans can change when new information is provided." She was half a breath from saying some very choice things about his upbringing, but kept them to herself. Instead she moves past it. Back to work. "Does anyone else have any secret contacts, information sources, toadies, subordinates, former lovers or otherwise knowledgeable individuals who might be relevant to what we've brought up so far? The sun waits for none of us, and keeping your silence will waste your time just as much as mine."

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris snickers at Gryphons response to the serious Kett but then innocently frowns at him as the women starts to get irritated at the too clever wizard. As KEtt asks her follow up question to the group the urge to be a smart ass is just too overwhelming, he knows he shouldn't with her already ticked but he can't help it "Well I know Gryphon? Does that count as knowledgeable individual who may be relevent?"

Deadpan, keep the face totally deadpan with no smile.

'You're going to break I know you are.'

'Nah, he can do it. Our guy has buffed all sorts of crazies and criminals before. I believe in his poker face.'

He broke. A big grin breaks out on his face and he snickers to himself for a second. Well at least he can make himself laugh.

'Told you so.'

'Bite my imaginary ass'

After a second he calms down and shrugs "I have sources but none that I imagine will be immediately relevant to this case. We could troll the underworld for more info but I doubt it would do much good if your man is staying as hidden as he is. I'll let the staff know to keep a weather eye out and other then that we can get going now."

[3SecondCultist]

Apples and Other Sweets

Your course decided on, the four of you finish up your meal and proceed to head out of the Reprieve to meet Gryphon's mysterious halfling contact. Currents of wispy clouds are etched across a colorless sky that hangs limp above the Throneport greeting you upon your exit from the inn. Out here in the late morning, the city's bells peal across the harbor-front, clamoring along the crooked, narrow alleys and buffeting those who hurriedly lay out their wares in the market rounds. The wall of society's noise tumbles over the grimy cobblestones, down to the wharfs and out over the choppy, slate-grey waves of Scion's Sound.

With the half-elf leading the way, it's barely a ten minute walk down several cramped lanes to get to the eastern markets of the Port District. You've been this way before, of course, but then again the last time you were all here together it was on horseback and you were in something of a hurry. Here the saving wells, fountains and bowl-stones overflow with coin: silver glints on beds of copper in sweaty palms of all shapes and sizes. Already the crowds have gathered outside the walls and windows of the shops, praying in trade at Kol Korran's multitudinous altar.

Before long you arrive at your destination, one Mayapple Hall. Unlike the Respite, this two story building takes up an entire section of the street, beams of ruddy oak standing tall and thick to support an elegantly shingled roof. Smoke coils out from a pair of symmetrical chimneys flanking either side of the main structure, while a pair of center-hall doors stand open. Emblazoned in wood into each is the sign of House Ghallanda, the inimitable blink dog alongside the iconic brand of the Golden Dragon, marking this as one of their trademark locations. Two burly halflings stand guard, but after a cursory check of your weapons they allow you inside, where you are met with the dulcet sounds of a horn accompanied by some snare drums and a jovial fortepiano. The musical tapestry is almost loud enough to drown out the din of conversation, as a crowd of halflings entertain their guests and conversation flows nearly as liberally as the spirits. Here and there, snippets escape the whirlwind to reach your ears.

"... saying that ir'Trannick is up in arms about it. It's hardly a surprise, though, given Adal's meddling with the Autumn Entrance Exams. I tell you, I wouldn't want to be a member of the Arcane Congress right now..."

"... disappeared right from the docks. You know it's strange, that's not the first time I've heard of a city guide going missing? I wonder if those traffickers have anything to do with it..."

"... skies are getting darker over Vedykar. My cousin back home was telling me that the wildfires are getting worse, especially for this time of year. Did you hear that dimwit of a count ir'Prachitaal is blaming the druids?"

In the eye of the storm, Gryphon is the first to spot his contact. Pointing brusquely at tables and snapping her fingers to her serving team, the elder halfling woman never stops moving. Jaunting from behind the bar, to gladhanding at tables, to checking on orders from the kitchens, welcoming in new guests or saying farewell to those parting the premises, Molly Mebsa - 'Granny Mebsa' to those that know her - may as well be a force of nature. Her shock of white hair is cropped close, complementing a set of square shoulders that are disguised well by loose-fitting auburn and tan tunic over saddle brown trousers. Her features are more wrinkled than not, but judging by her pace and the gleam in a pair of clear blue eyes, her age doesn't seem to slow her down at all.

Spoiler: Kett

Show

Looking around the lounge, you spot a dark haired, muscle-bound halfling hanging off of the balustrade of a second floor landing. He has the build and posture of an experienced fighter - though he doesn't seem to be carrying any weapons that you can spot - and watches everyone that gets close to the older halfling woman. He also has a single feathered earring in his left earlobe.

[(Un)Inspired]

After the halfling guards check the party’s weapons, Gryphon pauses at the threshold of Mayapple Hall, turns, and addresses the group with a stern look on his face.

I mentioned this the other night but I’d be remiss if I didn’t repeat myself here. The only acceptable behavior, when speaking to Molly Mebsa, is absolute courtesy. Not only is she an important woman, whose time is not to be wasted, but she has more halfling warriors (who are just dying to prove how sharp their Sharrash’s are) on her payroll then anyone else in the city. Furthermore, her cousin is the Wing Commander of the largest group of Clawfoot Cavalry outside of Talenta. I’m sure we all have plans for the future that preclude an exploratory trip through a dinosaur’s gullet, so, best manners on display!

After Gryphon’s final admonition, a strange thing occurs. The tension relaxes out of the young wizard’s brow and the somewhat sinister gaze, that is so typically found on his face, bubbles away. Replaced by a look of fond sentimentality before he whips around and plunges into the hall.

Gryphon strides quickly through Mayapple Hall. Conscious that, at 6’1”, he looms large over the mostly halfling patrons, he beelines directly toward the elderly woman giving orders.

Granny Mebsa! he calls out to her, taking great pains to keep up with her rapid movement through the hall without getting in her way. Aware that she was conducting business, and it would probably be inappropriate to swoop in for a hug with the elderly woman he had grown so fond of, he settles for a quick bow and a handshake. I found myself in the possession of a bit of Xendrik dark chocolate recently and I thought to myself, “who do I know that could actually appreciate a treat like this?”

With that, he presents the chocolates to the tiny matriarch.

And it would be a waste to enjoy such a rich dessert without something to pair with it so I picked you up an Aundairian Demi-Sec from the Reaches. He follows up this comment by holding out the wine bottle as well.

Granny, I’ve recently become acquainted with several new people who might end up being important figures here in the Port District and it seemed best to bring them by so you could meet them. He gestures politely to his three compatriots.

This is Prosecutor Arimart Kaessel, one of Breland’s finest, and a servant of the tribunal. He recently was responsible for the apprehension of a major war criminal from a group of body traffickers.

And here is, Sir Kleris, a soldier and illusionist of quite notable skill. After carving through a legion of warforged supremacists a few nights ago, he opened a new tavern this very morning on the site of his victory.

Finally, we have Madam Kett. She works as a dockhand during the day but I’ve personally witnessed her kick her way through a Karnathi undead unit before hitting one of their nobles hard enough in the jaw to send teeth scattering.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- Kett keeps a keen eye and ear open, both for things she could use and for things that might cause problems. The halfling fighter on the upper floor could be both, depending on how conversations went. She already had an elf fighter in her debt, adding a halfling might not go amiss. His earring alone wasn't enough to say that he was tough, but combined with his poise and form backed it up. He'd be annoying to fight if it came to it. When they came to 'Granny' she lets Gryphon do the talking. As always he said far too much for her liking. Were all politicians like this? She rarely had a chance to find out before they stopped being able to talk altogether. She couldn't imagine ever getting involved with such a life by choice. Still, as long as he was doing it for her rather than at her she could suffer it in silence. At her introduction she gives a light head tilt of acknowledgement and deference but says nothing. If this 'Granny' did know as much as Gryphon said then she'd know that Kett was no dockhand, but it wasn't going to be her that volunteered that correction.

[CozJa]

As they make their way to the chosen destination, Arimart observes the streets of the city; it's incredible how little time it took for him to get used to this place, and he may even like Throneport more than Sharn!

Reaching Mayapple Hall, they enter the Ghallanda establishment, and the paladin keeps his ears as keen as he can, to hear if some news can be of interest. One voice, speaking of disappearances in the Port districts, interest him and he take notice of those who are speaking about it, counting to 'interrogate' them after they're done with Gryphon's friend.
Looking around the place, the Half-Elf thinks that his fellow Khoravar paladin may have a difficult time in establishing the Speckled Hen as he hopes to: Shady dealers always love the comfortable welcome of the halflings.

As Gryphon presents himself and the others, he nods quietly to 'Granny' Mebsa, waiting for her to speak.

[3SecondCultist]

Nobody stands in your way as you make your way deeper into Mayapple Hall; the crowd parts amiably for you, mostly comprising of those enjoying breaking their fast with a late lunch and choice of brew, but there is no mistaking the quiet eyes that follow your group's entrance and approach towards the house matron.

Granny Mebsa, upon recognizing Gryphon at the head of your party, murmurs something to a well-heeled server near her who seamlessly steps into her role and begins giving orders to the rest of the nearby staff. She strides right up to the khoravar, motions for him to bend over so she can give him a hug.

"Ah, if it isn't young Grif! Always good to see a welcome face, inveterate charmer though you may be. And you brought friends! A pleasure to meet you all." The halfling elder's eyes light up even more as her gaze alights on the sweets and liquor when Gryphon brings them out. "You spoil me, Grif. These will pair wonderfully with a meat-mince pie. You and your friends look rather hungry, come with me and Granny will whip you up a little treat." Turning on her heel without missing a beat, Mebsa beckons the four of you behind her without hearing any objections.

The establishment's kitchen is a predictably involved affair, all smooth stone work and the bustle of chefs hard at work producing an array of dizzying delights. Nothing here is ornate or indicative of particular means, but it is hearty food prepared well: soups and chowders, seafoods and salads, with a healthy dose of game from the island's interior. Granny Mebsa dismisses one of the cooks from their station with a flick of the wrist and invites you to stand opposite as she sets up her mis en place pulls out a bevy of spices and fresh ingredients.

"Now," says the Ghallanda matriarch with a raise of her eyebrow, "before we get down to the favor you're about to ask me, what would everyone like to eat? I can pack a meal for the road if you prefer, but you are not leaving this kitchen empty-handed."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- In what world could they possibly 'look hungry'? Kett wonders to herself, keeping her such comments to herself. Maybe Granny's observation skills were wained. Hopefully her informants had better eyes. After all, they'd just come from breakfast not more than an hour ago. A short and polite reply instead. "Thanks for the offer. If you insist I'd rather take something to go. Don't think I'll feel peckish for a while yet." A poisoning was unlikely, deliberate or otherwise, but she'd save any such tests for later. Ideally after the rest of them ate first to try it before her.

[(Un)Inspired]

Gryphon bites his lip slightly as his eyes flick from one dish to another. Humanoid cuisine was the best part of leaving Droaam and its endless grist. There was certainly nothing wrong with the warm breakfast served at Kleris’ tavern, but no one could put together a meal like House Ghallanda. Just as the paradox of choice threatened to drive the wizard to madness, he steeled his reserve, and made a most important decision.

I would like the pulpo gallego and the braised hare and potatoes, please Granny! The octopus and the potatoes for himself, the hare for Spritz.

[GameOfChampions]

Leaving the Inn

Kleris saunters up to the bar as the group decides to pack up and head out for information. The revelation that the Reprieve traded in information, however slightly was a nice little surprise. Clearly he needed to talk to Elise and the staff before he left, he waves the barmaid/his new second in command at the inn over "Hey Elise. We need to talk about what happened back at the table."

He holds up a hand to forestall any protest or fear.

"Don't worry I'm not angry or upset at all. Actually I'm pleasantly surprised. I was going to bring this up after a few days but this is a good lead in, especially with Izar popping up earlier. I have a dream for the Reprieve, a dream of turning it into a hotspot of information trading and a neutral meeting ground. It will change the inn into an institution so that everyone remembers Jhory when they think of Jhory's Reprieve. So hearing that the place already did a little info trading is good news for me. Can you try to let anyone who did any info trading here know we are still open to a similar arrangement with the previous owners. Talk to the staff let them know that this is a good thing, get them to foster connections. It doesn't need to be anything criminal, even connections with staff from other inns around the city is good as long as they can pass along rumor or information."

He takes out a pouch a fills it with assorted coinage from copper to gold and makes sure to leave 20gp in assorted coin in it. He puts it into the safe in the old office and gives the key to Elise. "Don't be afraid to hand out some tips for anything good you can get from the staff or any friends you have who are open to rumormongering in their own paces of work around town. I'll be back later and we'll review everything together."

He was really putting a lot of pressure onto her but he trusted her at least for this, she seemed attached to the inn and clearly was wily enough to run a small time information scam. He was also sure that building up her esteem wouldn't hurt either, make her reliant on him so as to not betray him later. He always was silvertongued enough to get some trust, at least until an actual working relationship could be built. Besides he was sure she would hesitate to betray the guy who owned her work place and murdered the last bunch of people to mess with it.

He smiles and clasps her shoulder, going for friendly and not creepy hopefully " I trust you Elise, you have good instincts. Listen to them."


Mayapple Hall

Kleris lets out a low whistle at the site of the Mayapple, this was the dream. He would sell his soul, again, for the Reprieve to be this busy and fine looking.

'You could pray to the gods instead of selling you soul? Go the other direction this time. Even if you don't get anything maybe a bit of meditation and praying will calm you.'

'I'm pretty sure the gods don't grant freebies to any of the following; people who sold their souls, followers of the Dark Six, or unrepentant killers.'

'The gods grant favors to unrepentant killers all the time!'

'Fine I'll take that one off but the other two stand! So I think this is just a way to make Kleris pray to another god.'

'... ya fine. But I doubt the Traveller will grant this boon. It doesn't hurt to explore your options.'

'It does when the previous option owns your soul'

Kleris sighs slightly at the bickering, maybe he could offer up other personalities as offerings to the gods, win win for him really. He ignores them and it fades into the background as he follows Gryphon through the Inn. The rumors are interesting but not why they came so he makes a note in the back of his mind and continues on.

He nods at Gryphons warning with a wink "I am always well behaved."

He respectfully waits until the wizard introduces him to the powerful matron and gasps at his own introduction "Sir Gryphon, you wound me. I am no soldier, I'm just a well versed traveler with some experience. Much more... flexible then a mere soldier."

He grins at Granny as he sweeps a leg back in a more traditional, and ostentatious, bow. He gestures to the busy inn and smiles "He is right about the new inn I just opened though, I wish it were even a quarter as fine as this establishment. My compliments, maybe some of you compatriots can check it out sometime, I would gladly offer half price drinks to new friends."

The sight of all the food has his mouth watering, they had only just ate but he was already ready to eat another meal with the delicious spread laid out in front of them. He looks over the different dishes before spotting something, "I wouldn't mind that braised boar with the red wine sauce, maybe with some of the spring greens on the side? If drinks are on the menu a glass of the red wine wouldn't go amiss either."

[3SecondCultist]

Leaving the Inn

When the changeling-in-disguise pulls her aside, Elise tightens her shoulders in preparation for a reprimand. However, listening to what Kleris has to say has her posture relax slightly.

"Oh, well thank you sir! I appreciate the opportunity." The server clears her throat. "I can - that is, I think I can put together a list of some people who can help with what you're after. Jhory didn't use the inn for the purposes of trading information, but he made enough friends that I don't think we should have too much trouble getting on our feet. The gold helps, though. I'll tell the rest of the staff here too."

At the last comment, Elise breaks out into a little half-smile. "You can absolutely trust me, sir. I won't let you down."


Apples and Other Sweets

Upon hearing the compliments from Kleris, Granny breaks out into an effusive smile that highlights the dimples on her cheeks. "Why thank you, dear - you sound like quite the enterprising young man, with a good head on your shoulders. It's a shame that you got into bed with the likes of Kariss Pfennigan. The corners of her mouth turn downward sincerely. "As long as you are paying him, I simply can't endorse you or your establishment in good conscience. He's a house excoriate, you see - he brought great shame to Ghallanda when he turned on his own."

Her eyes widen suddenly. "Ah, your food! One order of the boar, and one hare coming up. Judging by your comments you have in fact just eaten, so why don't I cut up an Atur sourdough loaf to make you some sandwiches? And I'll pack the pulpo in a to-go container for you, Grif. All that's left is for Sir Kaessel and Madame Kett to tell me their preferences, and you'll be right as rain." The elderly halfling woman has already set a large copper bot to boil and started getting to work marinading the cuts of game.

The neck of the Aundairian red makes a satisfying pop as Mebsa adroitly removes the cork to let the vintage breathe and sets it back on the counter. She busies herself getting other the last of what she needs out and ready to assemble: Reaches tomatoes and home grown lettuce and a wide selection of sauces and garnishes. Her initial preparations done, Granny Mebsa looks you in the eyes once more.

"I know you, Grif, so I’m going to guess that you want information of some kind? A tip on a traveler staying at the inn, or maybe access to one of my friends?" says the Ghallanda matriarch with a raise of her eyebrow, "Well have at it then, none of us have all day to dither about."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- Yes, they didn't have all day to dither, which is why Kett is baffled that the woman would insist on her picking a food. Was this some form of halfling interrogation technique? Throw them off balance by forcing them to jump through the absurd hoops before getting down to business? It wasn't the first time she'd encountered such bizarre and often pointless 'rituals'. It seemed practically a requirement for some of her targets. She takes a quiet breath to calm herself down. "Something light, that will survive being thrown about a bit would go nicely, thank you," she finally requests, as politely as she can muster. Gryphon could do the actually talking about Renn. Frustrating though she was, Kett doesn't want to cut off a potential lead in 'Granny' by wording things in her less than diplomatic manner.

[CozJa]

Smiling slightly at Mebsa insistence, Arimart looks around, thinking about his old times in Sharn Ghallanda Hall, when he was still a young officer.
"As usual, one can count on the legendary hospitality of your house. I'll take the Aundarian red too, and that Karrnathi Vedbread seems perfect to go with it, possibily with extra onions!"

In fact, the Khoravar would like a taste of everything on the table, but he knows better than to let his hunger take the best of him.
"Food, drinks and Halflings can be a terrible combination, especially if I'm working" he thinks to himself, remembering the last Ghallanda feast Imra invited him to.

He sits, and looks at one of the slices of braised boar on Kleris dish.
"Well... am I working?"

[(Un)Inspired]

Well Granny, you see, the half elf starts. He rolled his split tongue across the backs of his teeth as he composed his request without revealing any of Kett’s “secrets”, my friend, The Prosecutor here, was hoping to get into contact with one of his countrymen whose somewhat of a recluse. Word around the district is that a halfling woman, a bit of an information broker named Renn, was acquainted with our elusive Brelander. We were hoping you’d be able to introduce us to Renn directly.

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris shrugs and gives Granny a small smile'Can't win them all it seems. Still she doesn't seem to drawing too hard a line...'

"Well I do understand that. If I had known earlier about other options maybe things would have been different. Well still, if you ever have reason to get in touch with an excoriate then maybe a neutral ground would be an appropriate calling I promise that while I rent from him he is not my boss or my owner."

There was no more reason to push on the subject so he gives another shallow bow and steps back slightly to enjoy his meal and savor the fine wine.

[3SecondCultist]

"Renn... yes, I believe I know the name. She's the type of spy who likes to spend her time on the streets, thinks that the best tips come when one spends all of one's time in the cold as opposed to a listening at a nice hearth. Sovereigns know why." Granny Mebsa shakes her head as she gestures at another of the halfling line chefs. He brings her a serrated blade, which she uses begins to slice up a flour-dusted loaf.

"If memory serves, Renn stops by the Hall most afternoons. She's friends with a few of the bartenders here, and trades local gossip for some food and drinks. Why don't you have a seat and wait for her to arrive, and I'll bring out your food when it's ready?"

It turns out that Granny Mebsa knows her business: the four of you are ushered out to a table in the sweet-scented common room - where you wait, drink your wine, and are served your meals in handy to-go containers - for less than twenty minutes before the bartender indicates a slight looking figure who has entered and taken a table booth in one of the room's corners.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- Kett lightly taps Arimart with her foot beneath the table to get his attention, then juts her chin at the newcomer - Renn, presumably. "You're up. She was originally going to meet you, you should open the talk." She'd be going with, of course. And she expected Kleris and Gryphon to tag along also, not wanting to be left out.

[CozJa]

The Khoravar decides to take his good time, sitting at the table and consuming what is brought to him and the others, waiting for Renn to show up. Considering the last few days, he could think of worse ways to spend his time, even if with all the things his eating today he may need to hunt some more warforged fanatics!

When Kett point him toward Renn, the paladin lays his glass on the table, take some money from his pouch, and stands up. He waits for Kett to stand up too, then moves toward the corner, attracting Renn's attention.

"We finally meet Renn, I'm Arimart, and as you told me last time, I owe you a favor, I'm here to pay for it, and I have another one to ask you." He places twenty Galifars on the table, then looks at Renn, observing her reaction to his next question:

"Me and my friends need to speak with Kasimir. Quickly. Can you help us?"

[3SecondCultist]

As Arimart leads your group over towards the corner table, you all get your first good look at the elusive halfling. Renn sits alone, several feet away from any other patrons and keeps her back to the wall at all times. She wears a tattered, moth-bitten cloak around her thin hunched shoulders. Tufts of hair that were probably brown a long time ago frame a set of emaciated cheeks and a snout-like nose which twitches at your approach. Hooded eyes peer back at the four of you expressionlessly.

"Your eyes're brighter up close, Arimart." says the secret-broker as she invites you all to sit across from her. Dirt-crusted, uneven fingernails clutch a glass of clear liquid, raising it to a pair of scabby lips, and you all pick up on an all-too-familiar aroma of humanoid waste. Suddenly the distance between Renn and the other clientele makes a lot more sense.

She looks down at the galifars offered, takes one of the coins and bites down on it to ascertain its quality, and then snatches up the rest. "Gold ain't exactly a favor, but it's a good start." She sizes each of you up openly as the paladin mentions Kasimir, and although she keeps her face neutral her eyes dart straight back to Arimart. "That's a much bigger fish than the Midnighters. What do I get for the tip? And don't say money, 'cause some rube just paid for my drinks for the next week."

[(Un)Inspired]

Before being ushered off with the rest of his party, Gryphon turns back to have a final word with Granny Mebsa.

Thanks Granny, for the food and for the help. Before I leave with the others, there was one last thing I wanted to discuss with you. I sent you a letter regarding this but since I’m here in person... You know your nephew? The one with the Dragon Mark? You mentioned a few weeks ago that The House had cleared him to open a new Gold Dragon but he was struggling to settle on a location.

The boyishness snaps off the wizard’s face and his eyes flick across the room, checking to see if anyone is listening in too bad intently.

There are some political changes coming and I have information about land that will soon be swarming with foreign investment. For the right enterprising person with a bit of... courage it could be a wildly lucrative time to lay the foundation for a new inn. Send him to my office later if he’s interested in hearing more.

With that, the half elf give Mebsa a hug goodbye and joins his companions. He greedily gulps down his food, along with Spritz, as he waits for their halfling informant to arrive. When arrive she does, however, his appetite vanishes. He spackles on his facade of placidity to cover roiling nausea conjured up by her odor. He watches the spy and the prosecutor’s exchange and waits for Arimart’s next offer.

Why do you insist on hobnobbing with only the most vile smelling humanoids?

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- She'd smelled worse. On other people and her both, though in her case it hadn't been by choice...mostly. Hopefully Renn spent some of her gold on a bath or two. There were limits to how 'street' you could be before people disregarded you entirely. Kett's knowledge of the inner workings of Throneport was limited at best, though she'd picked up a thing or two, and had a few...suppositions of her own that could pass as juicy gossip. Still, probably best to open with stuff she was sure of, rather than conclusions. "How local do you want your nuggets of knowledge to be? I'm pretty well traveled but if you're only interested in Throneport, that's fine too." She phrases it in a way to, perhaps, entice Renn to step out of the Throneport comfort zone even if it wasn't actually useful to her.

[3SecondCultist]

Renn shrugs. By the slant of her shoulders, you might guess that she's still getting your measure - or perhaps she is simply outnumbered. When she looks at Kett, it is with the eyes of open appraisal.

"My business is Throneport, but if you've got juicy stuff from elsewheres that folks here might care about, then I'm game to trade." Finishing off her drink in one last gulp, she signals the Ghallanda waiter to bring over another with a wave of the hand. "Why don't you tell me what it is first, then we'll see."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- Kett runs her tongue against the inside of her teeth, tasting the bait that was ready to be snatched up. "You've probably heard about the Murder on the Fairhaven Express? It was quite the popular story, even had a semi-fictional novel published about the events. Young Cannith foundling, a genius inventor destined for great things, murdered with his own newly created Silence Gun, that was then damaged beyond all repair?" She nods gently as the memories bubble to the surface as she summarises the tale. "The killer was never found and the murder went unsolved, though a lot of accusations were thrown around. But I happen to know who was behind the killing and why. And before you say it, no, it wasn't the Spouse. Unlike in the book, she was actually innocent."

[3SecondCultist]

The halfling cannot help but perk up slightly as Kett starts the story. She spares a few glances at the other three members of your party, but her gaze always returns to the spy. Renn betrays her interest by leaning forward, her face close to Kett's.

"I heard of that story. Not who did it though." Steeping her long fingers around a new drink, Renn thinks for a moment. "Okay, you've got yourself a deal. Tell me about the murder, and I'll share everything I know about what Kasimir's been up to... and because I like your handsome friend over there, I'll tip on the others who've asked before you."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours?) Concentrating: -- Easy as slitting a throat, she muses. It was a good story, though she'd prefer to tell it with a little less time pressure. She coughs, and readies herself. "So, the Fairhaven Express, a lightning rail train running from Sharn to Fairhaven on a 3 day journey." She sets the scene. "Our victim is one Claude E'er Constance, an adopted foundling into House Cannith, found dead in First Class dining car on the morning of the third and final day of travel. The murder weapon? A new creation of Constance's, the Silence Gun, a weapon that creates a magical field of silence and darkness around it, allowing entirely covert kills to take place. A weapon that would revolutionise the field of murder, assassination and spycraft for years, if not decades to come. Small enough to be concealed in any moderate coat, pocket or bag, easy enough that even a common thug could make use of it, and - supposedly - cheap enough to mass produce that House Cannith's profit margins would be enormous, especially since they would be the only ones with the knowledge of its construction." "I say 'would', because at the time, only Constance knew how to make it. The trip, made with his family, was to deliver the prototype to some Cannith officials and display the gun's efficacy. Alas, the murderer shattered the gun, its spells unwoven, by the time the body was discovered. So, who did it? Well we've got a few choices. Constance was traveling with his wife. They had been estranged for a number of years, barely speaking to each other, having split but not divorced as Constance was more married to his work than to his wife. By her own testimony she'd been invited by him to come with. There were still lingering affections, and from what she told the guards and the witnesses they'd been hoping to revive the spark between them. He was also traveling with his lover," Kett pauses. It was a well known part of the story, but on the off chance not everyone had read it - or lived it, in her case - it was a juicy nugget that always set minds afire. "They'd been sleeping together for roughly 4 months. The wife was aware, and supposedly did not mind. 'Let him fritter away his gold and gifts', she had said, 'Just so long as I don't see her'." "So, Constance, wife, and lover. A pretty meager cast on their own. The First class cars were separate by locks, so thankfully we don't have a whole train to deal with, but there were others - Constance was always accompanied by a servant, employed by House Cannith rather than himself. His usual servant had taken sick two days before the trip, and so they had been replaced by another just before the trip. He was also accompanied by a former-Cannith artificer who had lost their position, an old friend and drinking partner. Rumour has it there was some jealousy on the part of the old friend. There was also Constance's adopted brother, a layabout whose accomplishments I couldn't list on one hand, because there aren't any to list. He and the wife had a brief physical relationship, since concluded. There was also the First Class Conductor, who found the body and had, apparently, known Constance via his wife for some time. They had previously been colleagues on a different job. Finally, we have the Wild Card. A woman two decades older than Constance, with no apparent connection to any of them, traveling for a brief holiday in Fairhaven. So, to sum up, we had the wife, the lover, the brother, the friend, the servant, the conductor, and the wild card. As I said, Constance was found dead in the dining car, shot twice with his own gun that was then smashed to pieces beside him. The friend had been drinking with him late into the evening. Constance, supposedly, fell asleep in the car and the friend retired to bed. The conductor stated that on his last rounds he saw Constance - asleep, alive, and alone - before he too went to bed. Motives then. The wife, spurned by her husband, who dared to take his lover on the same trip. His lover, fearful that her source of gifts and gold would be cut off should they reconnect, ended it in a fit of madness. The brother, always jealous of his much smarter brother. The friend, angry at his friend's success. The conductor, who had always known Constance as a bad person and a worse husband, who had secret affections for the wife. The servant, perhaps acting on someone else's instructions. Or even the wild card, whose true identity never came to light. Despite a significant amount of blood being found on the scene from the wounds inflicted, no one's clothes or luggage - that was searched - had any noticeable traces of blood. The wife said she'd seen the lover sneaking around very early in the morning, but on pressing both she and the brother admitted that they were also sleeping together. Alibis were thin on the ground, but equally there was nothing conclusive to point to any of them, and though some had more suspicions than others, eventually they were all freed with no one convicted due to lack of evidence. In the novel, they accused the wife. It's always the spouse, after all. In the book, the friend had told the wife that Constance was sleeping in the bar, drunk, and so she had stripped down all of her clothes, sneaked out naked, and killed him in the dead of night, before washing herself clean of the evidence. Indeed, the bloody handprint on the table was more feminine than masculine, if that meant anything, and she knew just how heavy a sleeper he could be. But, alas, that wasn't true. The wife was in fact innocent, and her life was thoroughly ruined by the book's release. So if not the wife, then who? The Wild Card, of course, but not alone, or at least not quite. True to the tale, she had no connection to Constance or the rest of them. She was an assassin in service of House Thuranni, who feared the the Silence Gun would directly impact their ability to operate by making anyone with enough coin a silent assassin. Their House's power would be diminished overnight. It was she who killed Constance. Just at the moment of death however, the servant - and if you haven't guessed yet, that would be me - entered the same car, with the same intentions. I'd been hired by a rival Cannith to kill Constance and ensure the gun's destruction. While it may have meant the House's temporary prosperity, my employer correctly surmised that the plans would not stay secret forever, and also wanted to ensure Constance did not hold more clout in the House than he already did. It wasn't as clean as it should have been. The Thuranni was startled - like an amateur - when I appeared, and they pulled the trigger before they were really ready, which is why they made such a mess. At the same time, the Conductor entered from the other end of the car, with a knife for Constance himself. There was a brief standoff, we almost butchered each other then and there, but eventually we came to an agreement. The Conductor provided equipment to be rid of the Wild Card's clothing, I provided an alibi for her - one that wouldn't be questioned, due to our lack of a relationship - and we'd all live free, happy lives. In conclusion, Constance's blood was on the hands of House Thuranni, very nearly House Cannith, and almost but not quite the Conductor, who arrived last. While our motivations were less than pure, I will say that the gun worked perfectly, and if it could have been mass produced..." Kett gives a very real shudder. "Our politics would look very different right now." Oh, and I killed the Thuranni later on another, unrelated mission. Kett quietly leaves to herself. Her tale spun, she wets her throat with drink. It had been a while since she'd told that one. "There, now that I have confessed to not murdering someone, it's your turn."

[3SecondCultist]

From the moment that Kett accepts the terms of the trade and begins to tell her tale, Renn's eyes do not waver. The halfling secret monger drinks up every word of the account of the death of Claude ir'Constance, not daring to interrupt to ask any questions or make a comment until the telling is complete.

"That's... quite the story. A shame about the Silence device, but the world clearly wasn't ready for it, else two dragonmarked houses wouldn't have saw to its early grave. Assuming you're telling the truth and Cannith did hire you to off Constance, you've got some serious skills or connections." Renn chews at a corner of her mouth. "I can check on the details later, but I'd say you held up your end. As you said, it's my turn."

Making sure that nobody else is nearby, she launches into her own account. "I'm not sure how much you lot know about Kasimir, but I might as well start with the man himself. Best I can tell, he's a Dark Lantern from Breland, close with his people in Wroat judging by his travel patterns. Been operating in Throneport for a few years under a few different names, but I make sure to keep tabs on his movements. He's got disguised aliases in most of the zones that he keeps up - at least four last time I checked - and sometimes hires changelings from the docks to play his role so he can be in two places at once. Thought he might be a changeling himself, but I never got close enough to confirm it.

Now this is where the story gets interesting. Six months ago Kasimir takes on a new alias: Gallim Frey, a learned arcane fellow and scholar of planar theory. Arcanix credentials, impeccable letters of recommendation from several known professors. It's a seriously airtight cover; I wouldn't have even known it was him if it weren't for the fact I was already having him followed. 'Frey' books long term lodging at the Silver Sparrow up in Falstead, in the Thrane Zone. He starts putting out ads, getting in contact with all kinds of high class folks and offering his services as a private tutor. And wouldn't you know it, within a week he's got himself an interview with none other than Danilos ir'Sencriss, the Thrane ambassador himself - his eight year old daughter needs schooling.

So Kasimir's got an in with the ambassador. Every day, he heads from the Silver Sparrow to Solstice House, the ir'Sencriss mansion in Four Kings. You should see the place: stained glass windows, angel statues, the works. Ir'Sencriss is a man of means, and clearly wants only the best for his little girl. I have eyes on Kasimir, and I start to wonder: 'what does the ambassador from Thrane have that a Dark Lantern might want?'. Clearly, he wants access to ir'Sencriss for something. It took me time and a whole lot of diggin' to put the pieces together."

Clearing her throat, Renn beckons each of you to sit in closer as she drops her voice further. "I hear from friends down in Morgrave that ir'Sencriss has bankrolled a group of adventurers from Clifftop in Sharn to head into Xen'drik to look for an artifact, something to do with planar energy. It's all very hush hush, on a need-to-know. But then I learn two months ago that the ambassador paid good money to have a big crate hand-delivered by Orien teleportation right here in Throneport. So I've got to figure that whatever this mysterious doodad is, Kasimir knows that ir'Sencriss is planning on acquiring it and is going for an intercept when it gets to the city. It's just common sense, really.

But that's when things get weird. Kasimir starts disappearing, not showing up to Solstice House for his tutoring sessions. He acts all spooked, dodging all my tails and taking to drinking heavy whenever he's at the Silver Sparrow. Goes on long walks all the way across town. I manage to follow him as far as Greenwall in the Aundairan Zone once, but he loses me there. And then, about six weeks back, Gallim Frey pays one last visit to the ir'Sencriss house in Four Kings. He enters... and never comes back out again. I keep tabs on all his known aliases just in case, but get nothing. It's like he just... vanished." Wetting her lips with the half-melted ice in her now-finished greymeade, the halfling stares into the middle distance for a few beats.

"I assume he's dead, of course. His cover was blown, and ir'Sencriss had him melted or something. I've heard the stories, I know that guy's for real. But the story's not over yet. I learn from birdies in high places that the ambassador is throwing a party for his daughter's ninth birthday. And not only that, but he's inviting all sorts of big-wig nobles and officials. Turns out the party is a cover for a private auction! Of course, to get an invite you have to know the right people and pony up 200 galifars a plate. Plus, ir'Sencriss has been bulking up his security: he's hired Kundarak experts, gotten guard drakes and even requisitioned a squadron of Knights of Thrane to patrol Solstice House until the party's over. I've stayed away since - I'm interested, not suicidal.

But I'm not the only one looking. I've had two others come and ask me for the same story over the past few weeks. The first was an elf, seemed a working class type but paid well. I don't remember much about him, but he was definitely after Kasimir's last whereabouts. The second was a woman, human I think. She seemed a little creepy, to be honest, had this dead-eyed stare like a shark. She asked for the same, but seemed as interested in the elf as she did the Lantern. I got names, but I'm pretty sure they were fakes."

Leaning back at last, Renn rubs her face with both hands and lets out a little sigh. Swirling the dregs in her glass, she raises an eyebrow at Kett. "That's all I know. Ir'Sencriss' party is tomorrow night, in case you were thinking of going. I'd stay away, but I like living."

[CozJa]

A storm in his mind.

That's the way Arimart would describe what he feels now, after all the things he hear. So many questions are zapping and booming in his head, while answers seems to fade in the haze stirred up by those many revelations. Of course he heard of the Costance killing, but he didn't spend much time on it, since he had bigger fishes to fry during that time. But now, hearing a complete account of the killing from one of the would-be perpetrators is something that clearly doen't happen every day. Or in a lifetime.
And what Renn said, if true, is something that the prosecutor has to consider with a lot of discretion. You don't show up at an ambassador's house without invitations. Or a very good reason to be there.

But some order is needed. The lawyer tries to take the reins of his thoughts and place everything were it should be.

"First of all, Kett worked for house Cannith and in competition with house Thuranni... and now she's stalking a man from Phiarlan. And she has enemies from Tarkanan... I was wrong, she's not suspcious, she's trouble, a lot of trouble. I should just call out of all this thing right now... but, I cannot.
And, after all, this things seems fishier by the minute... this Arano was sent for Kasimir, but he could already be dead? No... Phiarlans don't make this kind of mistakes..."

Noticing that he is gazing at his glass for quite some time, he moves himself, looking to his other companions.

"Well, that seems quite a lot of information to process... and I'm not exactly sure where that can bring us with your search, madam Kett. Any suggestion?"