3.5e Batman Campaign (2.0)

[JoyWonderLove]

“Huh. No point me coming all the way here then.” Stephanie strolled into the study, glancing around the room with the same two she had met not even a week ago. It had proven itself awkward, tracking those that were supposedly as clueless as her a fair distance around the massive manor. The heavy imprints of Kate’s on the carpets, coiled with the murmurings servants had heard, capped with a rough idea of what she knew of them. Harder than she expected, given how tiny their head-start. The sooner Harvey and Verena were found, the better. “I thought I’d have to pep-talk that you only agreed to hear the guy out and to consider Verena above politics, but you two sound leagues ahead of me. As per.”

Stephanie seemed amused with her last little line, despite hunting them down long hallways and dim lighting that invited brooding, and knowing they had little clue of her connections to the Cat. Flimsy as it was. The eternal flame torch ignited in her hands as quickly as an overeager lover, its brightness throwing back the gloom. There was a painting of a great many of the Wayne patriarchs above a table fit for two, the likeness of each noble taking a decisive stride out of the blur of the one before. It featured many she didn’t recognize save Bruce himself, and had no showing of little Damien.

“Totally with you that blue blood knows way more about us than we know about him. Can’t speak for you two, but my gifts were pretty thoughtful. Any more tailored and I’d be worried the guy measured me in my sleep. His spies definitely dug through our trash. Still, weird kinda compliment that we all made it here despite the intrusion, right?”

Stephanie appeared untroubled by the skullduggery, despite not having any of the new gear on her person. A small sign of solidarity with the academic heiress. The door was closed deliberately behind her before she continued.

“Anyway, the Wayning one claims he’s all in on supporting us if we take down that monster, and I’m gonna test it. Nigma is meant to have a huge network of spies himself, but I’m clueless about how thick the weeds are out there. If either of you know anything about House Nigma, that could make a huge difference between saving Verena, or me needing help myself.” From how she spoke, Stephanie didn’t presume they shared her priorities tonight. One was an oddly cosy dress and night-time sun-hat wearing, inverted iron maiden knight that had revealed herself to be Kate. But Barbara was tackling her own doubts and demons, and there was no push from Stephanie’s side for the brunette to feel ready for anything before she actually was. Tonight the rogue might operate solo.

“Besides, there were enough people around when Fox found out about the blackmail that I’d rather not assume Nigma is clueless. Me asking around Midtown to get Verena’s description would ping their web, too. So I’ll be asking Wayne if I could buy some items from his Guild to prep for getting Verena out, but more, if he could send counter intelligence in the meantime. Stir up a distraction to drag as many eyes off the area as possible, or else spread misinformation. Maybe even claim Fox is leaving the captain to figure it out solo for betraying the Merchants, so they won’t see a rescue effort coming. His Grace is a strategist; he’ll know better than me, and it’s all his decision anyway.” Stephanie little sounded convinced of any espionage aid. It was entirely possible bigger issues occupied the prince’s personnel, and he would have no one to spare even if he wanted to. He had sought out the three of them precisely because he needed trustworthy people, after all.

“But South Channel is filled with everything not approved of by Estanna’s faithful, so I’ll be heading over disguised as a tourist seeking some freaky in the figs. It’s the easiest way to blend in. I don’t need a description of Verena to find my friend, and she’ll know enough that I can decide to either move forward, or lay low. Not perfect, but it’s a beginning. Are you two taking tonight off?” It sounded more like an invitation than a question.

Spoiler: Downtime

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Buy items if possible, ask for counter-intelligence assistance if available from Bruce Wayne, take 20 (1 hour) to get a disguise as a tourist seeking fun, and set sail for South Channel Island. I’ll gladly delay if anyone else is interested, but otherwise let’s go.

[JbeJ275]

"Steph... going with you right now sounds great I'll go and get my stuff. I had a bit of a breakthrough on a spell I've been studying for a while last night, that might help us confirm or deny whatever results you can get. I'll go and grab the stuff from the room and head out, I'll wait at the front door for you to grab talk with Wayne and find me."

With that she reattatches her mask, and heads off to gather her things and leave the buiding.

[Molan]

== SOUTH CHANNEL ISLAND ==

Spoiler: Damien Only

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Bruce, Alfred, Richard and Damien finished their meeting down in the "basement". As they migrated their way -- each taking separate paths back to the castle -- to the main hall. Alfred bowed and excused himself, Richard vanished to his own wing of the fortress. Before they left the hall, Bruce turned to face his diminutive ward.

"Did you have any questions about anything you've seen tonight?" he asked.

Damien shrugged.

"Not really. Do you really think Richard is going to be able to shake anything loose out of the Tetch's?"

"Honestly, no. And I warned him against going -- the gnomes are more dangerous than they appear. But..." he sort of shrugged. "Richard's tenacious, and he's more than capable. It's worth a shot. One day, your skills will be up to his; you may even surpass him."

Damien snorted.

"Uh, are you sure that hasn't happened already?" To underscore his point, he popped off several swift forms to demonstrate his ability.

"Quite sure." Bruce said with a smile. "But regardless, you did a great job heading out on your own at the Vaults. I want you to keep working with the mercenaries we recruited. I think it'll be important for you to keep spreading your legs and figuring out how to work with a group."

"I guess..." Damien said, looking disappointed. "Wouldn't it be better if I stuck with you? Whatever you're doing's gotta be a lot more important than what they've got on their plates."

Bruce remained quiet, but shook his head.

"Trust me, Damien. I mean it. It'll be good for you. And we need you."

Damien sighed.

"Ugh. Fine. Just as long as I don't get left out when it's time to nuke that monster."

Bruce just smiled. Before he could say anything, Stephanie walked back into the Hall.

Spoiler: Spoiler and Damien Only

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Stephanie found her way back to the main hall, lured to the sound of Bruce and Damien's voices.

"Pardon lord prince Wayne. Overheard you two from down the hall. Listen, I can't pretend that everything's all hunky dory with the rest of the gang, but we're ready to humbly accept your offer of a boat. We're gonna go after that lass Verena on South Channel Island. After that...who knows. Lots to do, lots to figure out."

If Bruce was disappointed, he didn't show it, instead nodding graciously.

"Well, fair enough. A deal's a deal, a promise is a promise. Is there anything else I can get you before you depart?"

"Mmm, not sure if I can think of anything..."

"I can." Damien interjected. "Now that Fox is opening up the Arcane vendors again, I kind of wanted to go and blow some of the commission he paid us."

"Ooooh, that's actually a good idea. Any chance we can place some orders, or...?"

"Actually, yes." Bruce said. "The vendors still aren't open yet, it hasn't even been forty eight hours since you left he Vaults. But, go ahead and give me a list of what you need and pass over the money, and we'll run a courier out while you're away. I should have it by the time you return."

Bruce led the shaky, fractured group out of the Castle and through the grounds of Wayne Island, passing through the overgrown gardens and past a series of smaller secondary buildings in the shadow of the gloomy evening, until they eventually were led down a slope towards the docks on the west side of the island, in the East River. Down at the dock, a single sailing ship was moored; it was hard to tell exactly what class of vessel it was. It shared characteristics with a cog, a dromon and a cruising yacht; it was a design none of them had quite seen before. When they got on, Bruce introduced them to a gloomy skeleton crew manning the vessel. The crewmen were dressed in all black, and they wore thick scarves and hoods, obscuring most of their faces. Bruce gave his instructions, ordering the crew to take the party anywhere they needed to go, before turning towards the party.

"I wish you all luck. I'll make sure to procure the items you ordered. This ship will take you to South Channel Island, and wait for you as long as you need. I hope you'll consider my request for your aid at some point. For now, we'll continue our monster hunt alone. I hope you all find the girl you're looking for and return her to her father."

With that, he left. The crew slowly moved the vessel out into the East River, and Wayne Island slowly began to shrink behind them, though it never quite shrank away from looming over the skyline.

The ship moved up the East River against the current, pushed along by a gentle wind from the channel, and eventually turned west, heading along the South Channel. During their northern journey, the great islands of the city; Downtown and Midtown specifically, loomed bright and large to their port side. On the starboard, the fertile lands of the Farm Lords Pastures slumbered, much darker and quieter. One of the great manses actually sat along the banks of the river, a massive, gothic glass and iron greenhouse leaning out off the side of the manor over the water, with green faerie fire lighting it from inside.

The ship was more unique than even just it's design. It had few above-deck lamps, and all of the lanterns were hooded and covered with red glass to reduce how much light would carry across the water. The sails were a mottled dark greyish color with blots of black, as though ink had bled all throughout them, and upon close inspection, the shadowy vessel itself appeared to be made of solid Darkwood, making it spectacularly expensive. Further inspection yielded yet further novelties. The wheel, rigging, and sales themselves all appeared magically enchanted, even to an untrained eye. The cabin's quarters, which were nice and well furnished, contained what looked like a magical desk and a magical -- but blank -- map inside of them. The main deck featured a pair of light ballistae, one pointing towards either side, and a third was perched near the vessel's stern, this one mounted on a rotating platform. Was this a yacht, or a ship of war?

The crew was incredibly well disciplined and silent, and they worked with barely any calls or communication at all. As they passed in between Midtown and Uptown through the South Channel, they were pressed in close to either shore, the stacked, tall, dark buildings leaning over them, but the vessel cut through the water as stealthily as a cat on a rooftop, stalking it's prey.

Eventually, South Channel Island appeared in front of them. It was dark, darker than the rest of the city, with looking unlikt forests of trees dominating most of what they could see rather than oil and faerie fire lamps. But near the eastern most tip of the island, there was at least some light -- and it looked magical in nature. They could eventually see what appeared to be the makings of a sort of elven village; and by the sounds of it, it was thick in nighttime revelry.

When the ship docked, they weren't greeted by any dockworkers, and the shadowy crew let them off without a word, simply preparing the vessel to depart again once ordered. The four of them made their way down the docks, into the small hamlet, to see what the fay island had in store for them.

The hamlet seemed odd after spending so much time in the metropolis of gotham city; it was small, but for this time of night, remarkably well trafficked. The buildings had sloped roofs that looked nothing like any of the other architecture in the city, and many were painted with garish colors or illuminated with shifting arcane patterns. There were open air bars and carts and some of the buildings were actually just semi-permanent looking tents, where strange figures peddled all manner of wares. As they passed through, it was hard not to feel like they were unnoticed by the crowed, and yet each member of the party simultaneously felt as though there were eyes upon them. It looked like there had been plenty of halflings, gnomes, humans, half orcs and other species who'd showed up to party that night. Drugs were being consumed openly, and some of the buildings were temples to the fey elven gods, which appeared to double as festhalls and even brothels. People danced and cavorted, and prestidigitation spells were fired off into the air in swirling, bursting colorful patterns. It was, in short, a bit of mayhem.

"We might need to try and socialize," Spoiler suggested. "The Nigma's are elves. Someone on this island's got to know something about who might work for them."

Spoiler: OOC

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Okay, so, I may not have gotten absolutely everything right in that transition but...we're here! Right now you're in a market / party scene, think burning man meets new orleans meets a turkish bazaar. Some people are partying a bit too hard to make them much use, but there are plenty of people here who might be of use to you.

I leave it to you to figure out what kinds of buildings, events or people you want to search out and what skills you want to deploy. Based on your feedback, I'll give you results and we can start exploring this place.

Keep in mind that there are a few vendors here -- they're mostly selling food, drugs and alcohol but it's highly likely that arcana will also be on sale as it's already rampantly on display. Let me know your thoughts!

If I skipped over anything major or slighted anyone please let me know in advance.

[JoyWonderLove]

Spoiler: Disguises For All! Also, Damien RVP

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My disguise kit is open to anyone that wants to use it for a +2. Also, I can easily Aid Another you for another +2. Also-also-also, Damien was offered the colours of a red doublet and green trousers so we can always go ‘omg oh wow look that’s where the real Robin disguise came from’, or not (unless he’s already Robin). The rest of the disguise also works perfectly.

=South of My Inhibition, North of My Common Sense=

Stephanie eyed the Farm Lord pastures, and the greenhouse overhanging the South Channel river in particular, with interest as they passed by silently. Adjusting the crossbow hanging off her shoulder strap to a more comfortable position, she glanced over at Kate, but eyes settled on Damien with the utmost feigned seriousness in the end.

“Okay, for this mission, better we all blend in with the festivities.” Kneeling down, she opened up a nondescript black rucksack burrowed from the room she slept in, and revealed a surprising amount of folded clothes on the left side, with make up and accessories mostly on the right. “The whole martial artists gi and black chic are great normally, not so much where we’re going. So Damien, for you, I was thinking these green trousers and red doublet are a must. Beyond that, it pays to play into the party scene. Do you want these adorable cat ears, and for me to paint lots of teeny weeny whiskers on you? Or would you rather the domino bat mask and squeaky whistle that comes with? We have to look authentic here.”

The hint of a wry smile broke through a face artfully painted in the rainbow hues and eyeshadow of a veteran reveller, toned midriff and arms freely on display. But Stephanie kept the purple gloves, and matched them with her short sleeved top and trousers. Her half up braid was crowned with a lilac flower that she liberated from an estate vase. Gone were her black half mouth mask, leather armour, or even the purple boots of the past two nights, replaced with green sandals. Her neck felt oddly exposed without the usual silver holy symbol, but she had already offered a silent prayer before a living hearth that the captain’s daughter be brought safely back to her family. It had been left comfortably seated before the flame, as when she slept earlier. Blue rope, crossbow bolts, and her gifted sai hung off her waist. Only naive tourists ever went to the island defenceless, given inhibitions were low, and the law being that of the land.

“You should also decide if you want to hold Miss Kate or Auntie Oracle’s hand while we’re there, okay? It’s a loud scary place and we don’t want you wandering off again.” It was decided before leaving the estate that, if this was their last time working with House Wayne, it might also be the last time to get any fill of sass in. When their sleekly bulky hybrid ship docked, she appeared pleased at the lively hamlet, an excited energy on her now.

Now this is more her scene.

“I’m gonna search around for an hour or so. Expect me to return back to the main area between bouts, so we can swap bits of intel if needed.” Stephanie gave her friend’s description again: fey-touched human singer brunette with great eyes. “Robyn always knows her local scene intimately. We find my girl, we find our woman. If you think you see her, say you don’t wanna spoil her fun, but Steph is looking to pick up another bard. Gauge the reaction. If it’s not her, play it off. Simple.” It was an obvious hint to the last message Robyn had left her weeks ago, but they little needed to know that. “Oh! And try to have actual fun tonight. You’ll completely wreck our cover if you don’t.”

The woman winked, before Stephanie strolled away to the hamlet while humming merrily, seemingly sure few supernatural threats were interested in her at the party scene, despite feeling watched. She goes and buys a drink first, ordering a Green Eyed Monster from the vendor, and offering to cover the costs for anyone else that accompanied her. The bright neon green slushy had a honeyed taste to it, masking the alcohol remarkably well. Next she immediately goes and picks up some Passion tabs from her friendly local drug dealer, asking for the best place to hear a singer around here. She claimed to be around for at least two days. Eyeing the three rosy pink tabs in her hand approvingly afterwards, she seemingly second-guessed putting one into her mouth as she sipped her drink again.

The square tabs were slid into a back pocket as she went off to the recommended spot, or at least the first temple dedicated to song to start gathering information. Asking if any singer was particularly good at Robyn’s favourite, Narrow Mind, Open Heart, and other such hints, were the key to honing in without tipping off her interests.

Spoiler: actions, Take 10 Gather Info & Bluff to blend in, not sure there’s time to Take 20 Disguise

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When we arrive, buy a drink (Green Eyed Monster) and then a drug called Passion (not sure if that’s a dnd thing in the books, but I guess it might be?) and then start my search either where the drug dealer suggest or in an eleven temple of song to find a certain bard. Urban Tracking check if relevant, or a Gather Information check if not. Use disguise kit 1 more time; the disguise kit is open to anyone that wants to use it. 8/10 uses remain if no one else touches it.

Disguise, Take 10/20: 25 or 34. (depending on if I have an hour to spare, +5 minor changes & +2 disguise kit use regardless)
Finding Robyn, Take 10: 28.
Bluff as needed to blend in, Take 10. 26.
Knowledge Local on SCI, Take 10: 20.

[MrAbdiel]

Damien is a little sullen, for the boat ride. It’s not hidden that he had no affinity for the water; keeping clear of the boat’s edges and showing no curiosity for the chop of the water. But he barely rises to any of Spoiler’s needling with more than a scowl, taking the offered red and green peasant clothes with no articulated complaint, and heading below deck to change; stuffing the pockets with shuriken, stowing most of his weapons in his pack. A single gauntlet remained on one hand: the asymmetry looking like some kind of juvenile attempt at a fashion statement, as incomprehensible and vacant as most such gestures.

He uses the offered disguise kit, watching Steph vanish into the party-core kaleidoscope and… electing not to do the same. Instead, he opts for a stuck on moustache as black as his hair, and that short crop slicked back to his skull, and suddenly he’s… well. If you weren’t looking too hard, you'd think you were looking at a halfling creepo. It’s probably fine.

“I don't need hand holding. I’m a grown halfling man, thank-you-kindly.”

That's the most kickback he gives to the sass. Once on South Channel, he stuffs his hands into his pockets, pulls his shoulders forward, and pads off with little communication into the crowd, after StephÂ’s plan is announced and tacitly absorbed.

Damien didn’t know this friend - but what he knew was that Lord Nigma was an elf who liked riddles. So the child, looking like a halfling vagabond trying to impress someone with clean garish clothes, goes seeking games, or gambling, or wherever men compete with their minds. Perhaps that’ll offer something worth investigating.

Spoiler

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Taking that disguise kit use, and the assist, and the minor-changes bonus for a 19.

Actually it’s funnier if I roll. disguise - (1d20+9)[10].

As for the Robin uniform, well. We’ll see. ;). For now, at some point on the boat, Damien would have asked for the others to call him “Scion” in the field. That’ll do for now!

Oh, and Damien is looking for games or contests. If they’re around I imagine they are trying to be found, but I guess I’ll roll something. Um. Maybe listen as he slinks around, trying to pick up snatches of conversation from the revellers that might point him in the right direction? listen - (1d20+8)[10]

[Feathersnow]

Kate just won't blend into a crowd, but she can wear civvies...

Which gives her an idea. "I'm not sure that you want me to help you look, honestly. I think I'd just draw attention. So I'm going to use this opportunity to do some shopping."

The elves were, at least according to stereotype, good at illusions. It seemed unlikely the common knowledge would be completely off the mark. Kate sets out looking for someone to glammer her armor.

Spoiler: OoC

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I suppose this is gather information and a 13 won't cut it, so I'm going to try to roll
(1d20+3)[18]
If successful, this roll will help me find the illusionist armorsmith alluded to in the other thread

[Molan]

Spoiler: Damien

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Damien wanders into the bazaar, milling around as merry-goers and tourists party in between the tents and glowing pastel buildings and multicolored tents. No one payed much attention to him; either his disguise was working or no one here really cared if children wandered through the gathering. It wasn't long before he saw a pair of elf children scamper through one of the crowds. Damien idly wondered if they were like, fifty years old, given how small they were.

It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but after a bit of digging and listening really closely through the din of live music, he thought he heard the sound of coins being exchanged that he was looking for.

A massive tent, 50 feet or more on a side, was bustling with activity. The silhouettes of a dozen or more creatures moved back and forth within, arguing and shouting in various languages. The chink of money changing hands was unmistakable. On the front of the tent, there was a cloth door with a slot that someone inside could peer through.

Spoiler: Kate

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After a short bit of searching, Kate found herself down by the southeast side of the hamlet, near the periphery alongside the darkened woods. She noticed what looked like fireflies or flashing lights occasionally flit between the trees, but when she tried to focus on them, they were always gone.

Up against the woodland was a long two story bungalow with a sloped elven roof, and multicolored lanterns hanging off it's sides from elegant chains. There was a sign over the top of the building, with the holy symbol of Sehanine Moonbow. It was a pretty common emblem among elf wizards. The back of the "house" was partially open, but it was expanded out into a pastel colored tent, and the right side of the building opened onto another covered, canopied area. Kate walked under the awning, to find an elegant, if disheveled arcane laboratory. Glowing potions were piled on a couple of desks, one elf lounged in a deep circular cushion, playing a lyre, with a glazed look in her eyes. On the other side, a young looking male elf hummed along with her, while idly working on inscribing silvery runes to a spell scroll on her writing desk. But sitting in the center of the "room" was a thick desk that seemed to grow out of the ground, covered in papers and several wands, behind which sat a somewhat elderly looking elf wizard, channeling energy into one of her new projects.

"Can I help you?" She said distractedly.

Spoiler: Spoiler

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Stephanie blended in quickly and seamlessly to the crowds. Her disguise was more or less perfect, and she found it easy to talk to a lot of the revelers, even some of the more magically inclined elves cavorting through the hamlet. She picked up some alchohol, made a bunch of new friends by buying a lot of drinks (boy, being rich really makes it easy to get popular in this town! she thought to herself). It was unsurprisingly very easy to track down some baccaran, known by it's street name, "Passion".

After shmoozing her way through a few different tipsy conversations, she managed to find a lead she was looking for. Some of her new friends directed her to a wine bar down the winding dirt road past the Temple of Lestai and an open-air restaurant where people were drinking and dancing, until the pink and red multi-storied club rose before her. Over it's entrance was a symbol of Alobal Lorfiril, a wine glass with motes of arcana flying out of it. Music poured out of the beaded open doorway, thrumming with the sound of flutes, string instruments, and a painfully beautiful voice. This was the place.

Inside, she found a scene as debauched and licentious as the outdoors were. Here, a pair of elves making out along a low couch, their hands well inside each others' clothes. There, people dancing and singing, or imbibing enough wine to kill a herd of horses. Magic coursed through the air and in the walls, lighting the place up with scintillating patterns and filling the space with the intoxicating, if vertigo-inducing feeling of warped reality that came with arcane magic. And up top, on the center stage, a band merrily playing the night away, Robyn standing in the center of them, crooning out over the delirious crowd.

Spoiler: Take 20: Know Local, SCI

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The tributary that separates Uptown and Midtown is called the “South Channel”, and it’s one of several tributaries that connect the East River and the Queen’s River. At the northwest end of the South Channel is South Channel Island. The island is a quiet, somewhat poorer neighborhood, with a predominantly elven population; around 60-70% of the island's residents are half elves, and about 10-15% are human. Because elves tend to prefer less metropolitan and more natural habitats than humans, much of South Channel is covered in trees to simulate a proper forest, though it’s still very much a part of the city.

Elves also favor arcane magic and have a close relationship to the fae; much of the lighting in South Channel is arcane or fae in nature and there are lots of rumors of the island or the pseudo-elven buildings are haunted. Most people who don’t live on South Channel Island tend to avoid it for these reasons, however plenty of the elves work either for the College or the Wizard’s Guild, so South Channel is still a relatively important part of the city. The northern tip of the island is covered in a small but dense park; this area more than any is a proper forest. The park has no name, but it’s separated from the rest of the island by a road called Candle Street. For this reason, it’s often referred to as “Candle Street Park” or “Candle Park”. The place is usually completely deserted; rumors abound that it’s infested with monsters or fae, or that it’s a place where secretive cults perform profane rituals, or that it’s an ancient burial site where the necromancers of old once buried an untold army of corpses, waiting to be raised again. Whatever the truth, no one will say for sure, and Candle Park remains a place that wise Gothamites avoid like the plague.

The southern tip of South Channel Island used to be a much more open and well-trafficked park, referred to unimaginatively as South Channel Park. The park was renovated by the Wayne family long ago, and converted into the Carnival Grounds. The Carnival was a popular destination during the later decades of the Wayne Family’s rule until the death of Lord Thomas Wayne, when the Bard’s Guild effectively tore apart the Fool’s Guild operating the Carnival and shut it down. Now, the Carnival Grounds are abandoned and carry the same terrifying level of mystery and animus that Candle Park does, if not more. During the original rise of the infamous “Jester”, the place acted as his hideout, and rumors of dark parties of fae worshippers or criminals lurking in the old fairgrounds abound.

The hamlet you're in has no name, but it sits at the other end of Candle Street, with a forest separating it from the other landmarks (mentioned above). This is a popular spot for visitors looking to blow off steam and let loose, but it's also known to be lawless and dangerous. People often disappear here, and the Justicars never investigate missing persons on South Channel Island. The Nigma's aren't especially popular or unpopular here, but plenty of people likely know them. It's said that the eldest elf in this Hamlet, a wizard name Etria, is connected to or knows people who are connected to the Nigmas, but she's powerful and hard to reach. Other people at the festival may be connected the Nigmas, but you don't know who they are.

[Feathersnow]

"Hi. I'm interested in a glammer for a set of fullplate. An enchantment that makes it look like a fancy dress with a mask? I hoped maybe you could help?"

Kate was raised in the nobility and spent most of her life in the military. Actually buying things from skilled artisans was something she had next to no experience with. There were servants and non-comms for that in her previous life.

[MrAbdiel]

Damien shuffles through the crowd, at first pleased that he seems to be slipping through the crowd unnoticed. Disguise, it seems, is a skill he has innately mastered, like so many others. It's not for fifteen minutes that he realizes that his disguise has nothing to do with it. People are ignoring him because the whole place is filled with lights and smells and sounds and naked people and drugs and a hundred thousand sensations more interesting than a kid dressed like short weirdo.

"...Stupid..." He mumbles, reaching up to tug at the moustache, before realizing he has used a somewhat more powerful adhesive than he thought. "Ow! Damn, stupid, damn..." He exhausts his supply of curses in common, and lets off a few in halfing (ironically adding some authenticity to his terrible disguise). Who cares, anyway? Anonymity was anonymity. If only he could hear a damn thing above the thump and grind of the revelry. Another fifteen minutes while away, the littlest ninja blundering around in the mayhem bacchanal, before following the two child-elves out like a lifeline and, mostly by chance, arriving at a tent whose character raises his suspicions. Her circles it once, attempting to be inconspicuous rather than to walk right up; but on the second lap, peeks in the cracked flap to discern what he can about the goings on within.

[JbeJ275]

Barbara is overwhelmed pretty much immedietly by the bacchanalian nature of their surroundings, and the chaos of what's going on there, with Stephanie's instruction to have fun only producing a glace at a nearby couple, stumbling into the doors of a brothel, and a raised eyebrow of questioning as if to say. 'Actual fun? Not sure we agreee what that means.'

Nonetheless she disguised herselves with the others, donning elbow length bright yellow gloves and a series of brightly coloured but worthess crystls to hang in bundles and bangles from her arms and belt. With that done she slipped into the crowd.

Knowing she wasn't as socially smooth or stealthy as some others she decided instead to focus on her own expertise looking for power and tracing it back to source. She slips into the crowd and lets her sensitivity to magic radiate outward, feeling for powerful magic especially illusions. Whether that brought her to other mages, the local leader of the criminal gangs or just local elites it'd provide a path forward and a possible point of contact. Though possibly she could filter out where it originated with her extensive studies.

Further, to avoid other taking her or her compainions by suprise in case news got out they were here she wove another divination on herself, which would also be very useful for catching any whispers as she wandered around the area.

Spoiler: Rolls but not really

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Casting Listening Lorecall, I know have blindsense out to 30ft and get a +4 listen bonus.
Taking 10:
Disguise: 19
Spellcraft to identify local magics: 27
Know: Arcana to know about and distinguish, local, criminal and academic magical traditions: 23
Listen: For any rumours or people suspicious of us. 24
Knowledge Local to hang out in the best areas for her purposes: 21

[JoyWonderLove]

Spoiler: Take 10 Diplomacy/Bluff/Tumble. Also burning gp.

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I didn’t actually think it would be that easy to find Robyn; I wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be a missing person’s case or Verena or something. This is a pleasant surprise.

I’ll burn up to 2,000 gp to buy the wine and flowers and bribes needed to bring this plot together. I’ve #goneplatnium now and there’s no goin’ back (hopefully)! She’s also my potential cohort. I don’t exactly have another lined up and I doubt the higher level Alfred is interested. Anyway!

Take 10 Tumble to try and impress the other dancers to get their attention first: 24.
Then Take 10 Diplomacy on the bartender/Lastai clergy/singers/dancers/whoever to help sing: 30
Take 10 Bluff on the bartender/Lastai clergy/singers & dancers that no one suspects a prior connection, because Nigma spies: 26

Are Barraccan and Passion different? IF they’re both different and in legal books, can I split the difference and say I bought 1 of B and 2 of P? If Passion is homebrew/not from a legal book I’ll go with 3 Barrcan anyway. why do i care when I only bought them to blend in

Spoiler: IC scene

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In the psychedelic wine temple, all swaying bodies and swirling arcane motes, Stephanie eyed in some awe the centre stage singer with a band at her back, crowd at her feet, and a song on her lips. This was Robyn in her truest element, and for one worrisome moment the rogue feared the singer might hate any reminders of Gotham and all its oppressive institutions and their lock-step lapdogs, even those Gothamites trying to overcome them. The painted rogue sat briefly on the red couch’s arm all the same, the one farthest away from the engrossed couple as she eyed the scene. The party terrain taken in, she jumped up with a plot brewing. This was going to take some coordination.

=Meanwhile, at the supposed Temple two doors down= (Diplomacy: 30)

Stephanie poked her head in curiously, knowing the place belonged to some kind of intimacy goddess, and not entirely convinced that wasn’t code for brothel. It certainly wasn’t entirely in alignment with Estanna’s approach. Waving casually over to whoever passed for a member of the clergy, playing at this all being normal to her, the partygoer strolled to them.

“Hey, look, so, I hear you guys are all about intimacy, or friendliness? I got a request.” She motioned nebulously to the leftmost wall. “The singer two doors down is great, and I’m pulling a little something together to show our appreciation. I’m gonna try getting at least half the room in on a song, so hopefully the rest just join in naturally. But I need a clincher. Or at least, something to safe face if it falls flat. You got any flower bouquets, or magic, and maybe even someone around to offer or throw them at the end? Whatever’s good; you’re the experts. I’m happy to pay a handsome tithe to your fair deity, of course.”

=At the wine bar itself= (Diplomacy: 30)

“Hey! What’s a bottle of Aubrey Gold cost?” Stephanie asked the bartender in effortless Elven. It was a high-middle range wine, not cheap, but hardly whatever alleged drunkards and connoisseurs like Bruce stashed away in their home for decades, either. “I’ll buy a bottle to cover a glass of Aubrey or less for everyone seated here, if they sing a song when I give the cue. The singer up there likes Narrow Mind, Open Heart.” He probably knew that, given he worked there. But it was popular enough that most people knew enough of the lyrics, even when drunk. Or so she gambled. “I’m gonna gets others involved; see if we can’t get the whole room to serenade her a bit. Also, mind if I take a stool for over there?” She pointed to where other amateur singers were close enough to the dancers, on the other side of the temple (I assume).

=We’re just dancing, we’re just hugging= (Diplomacy: 30 & Tumble 24)

Putting aside the only half finished neon drink on the floor hugging the wall, Stephanie sidled up to where the dancers were, letting herself sway and saunter solo while she watched the others. She made her move among them, whether they were a couple or unattached or friends, dancing with them when she could, close enough near them to wait for a chance to nudge conversation, or else even doing the odd bit of acrobatics and even breakdancing to draw eyes. But always she eventually mentioned how good the music was, and wondered if, with enough other people interested, if those dancers wouldn’t be interested in maybe singing a particular song the talent on stage would love to hear. After gathering about five different agreements, she moved on to her next target.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Kate

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The elf crone smiled.

"Ah, trying to blend in eh? You don't look like you've come here for the party. You're not interested in causing trouble in my hamlet, are you?"

The elf playing music didn't even bother to look up; at a cursory glance, Kate began to suspect that she was on something. The apprentice working he spell scroll turned around to regard her with a sideways glance.

"I don't want any trouble." Kate insisted. "It's just hard to find good enchanters around here outside of the College. I'm not used to doing this sort of thing myself."

The senior wizard nodded. "Fair enough, but why come to South Channel Island? Nobles almost never visit this place, and no one visits us if they're not up to some mischief."

Kate didn't have the suave to lie or schmooze the old elf the way Stephanie would have done. Instead, she told the closest approximation to the truth that she could manage.

"Listen, it's not always easy getting service from the College facilities given my...heritage. Even as a highborne. I thought the elves would be a bit more understanding."

The ancient pursed her lips.

"Very well, then answer me this. To which House are you sworn?"

"My name is Dame Katherine Kane, of House Kane." she said, opting for the truth instead of talking her way through it. "The Kane's are sworn to the Wayne's of Wayne Castle, but we haven't had much to do with them in a long time. I mostly work for myself now."

Well, most of the truth.

"Ah, an adventurer then." said the ancient, opening up a nearby chest which appeared filled with magical vials and instruments. "Adventurers we can handle."

She removed the ingredients from her chest, and began preparing her work table.

"I can glamer that armor. It'll cost 300 imperial platinum pieces and take me three days. Is that going to work for you?"

As she spoke, the apprentice to the side slowly turned back to inscribing his scroll, seeming to imperceptibly mumble something under his breath as he did so.

"An'alda will help you. We're all outcasts here, after all." the elder wizard said.

Spoiler: Damien

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Damien peaked through the crack, but couldn't see much. What he could make out was fairly enticing. The interior of the casino tent was extravagantly appointed, and it was filled with what looked like dozens of patrons and a few different employees working the gambling tables. A long bar was somewhere in the back and Damien could see people were drinking and eating a plentiful amount of food and wine. Unfortunately, without walking in it was hard to notice anything else. Most of what he heard was people reveling, shouting and betting, but he caught a glimpse of something -- or someone -- massive standing in the back of the tent. Someone shifted relatively close by to the flap; perhaps a bouncer or guard. They were less than a foot from his face, but hadn't noticed him.

Spoiler: OOC

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Gave you 10's on Listen, Spot, and Hide. You can feel free to roll to try harder if you want, or you can simply enter or attempt to enter the tent, at your discretion.

Spoiler: Barbara

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Though Barbara may not have been as smooth as her compatriots when it came to talking her way through a bar, she was more than capable of making up for that with her true skills.

Barbara knew a ton about this city, about the elves, the College, and about magic, and her divination powers would help bring her the rest of the way. She was in here element.

Her disguise was successful; she managed to avoid most notice, and most passing glances she received appeared more out of drunken romantic interest than general suspicion, still, no one followed or bothered her.

As she made her way through the hamlet, she started to pick up on things. The elves were well established fixtures of the College, but they were also known to deviate rapidly from Imperial Law, and Arcane Law was no exception. They'ed practically lacquered their village with magic, and Barbara was genuinely staggered by how much shadowy illusion magic was at work. Most of the lights here and a lot of the declarations were not, for all genuine intents and purposes, real. More stunning still, quite a bit of the food and drink -- though not all of it -- was also conjured rather than made by hand. If this place lacked for arcana, it would be dark, run down, and hungry.

Most of the buildings in the hamlet seemed generally unguarded, but she managed to find several abjurations and alarms; a few were guarding the "Temple of Lastai" (a brothel), several others around one of the lounges. She found powerful divination spells over the bar marked with the sigil of Alobal Lorfiril. One of the things that stood out the most was a powerful aura of conjuration and transmutation emanating from the gambling tent. Near the north end of the area, a tent labeled "Chuk's Magic Shoppe" emanated illusion magic.

As Barbara walked around, she was able to pick out some interesting conversations. Given how loudly everyone was partying, it was easy with the benefit of her magics to pick out more serious conversations. Most of what she heard was basic criminal behavior -- she could hear a fence haggling with a client, several drug deals, the passing of necromantic artifacts back and forth, and a haggle between low level enforcers in the Thieves Guild and Dark Market. None of them were particularly interesting.

Two key conversations stood out while she was standing outside any of the buildings.

The first was between someone she didn't recognize, talking to a man in dark black studded leather armor, who was carrying a magically enchanted crossbow and carried a number of dangerous looking knives.

"Are you sure? Changelings?"

"That's what they're saying." replied the second man, wearing a sly grin. "But what do you care? That'll be a problem for the magi. The Lords want this mark put on ice. Can you all do that?"

"House Lawton technically works for the Nigmas." the dark, armed man replied. "So, full disclosure, we find out any of this runs afoul of the Bankers, you're gonna have more to worry about than wasting your money. Besides, we've never missed a mark."

"Don't worry about it. We're good. None of the Bankers will notice or care. They don't like this fugger either. Just promise they'll be dead by the end of the week, and you'll get your money. We're good for it."

"i'll see you at the end of the week." the other thug replied.

Disturbing as that was, Barbara's ears perked up by the sound of House Nigma being recognized. Still, she felt like this was a bit cold, so she made a note of them, but moved on to another area.

The second conversation, she almost wished she hadn't heard.

"They're saying it's mercenaries, yea."

"Adventurers?"

"Same one Fox hired, yea that's what they're saying."

"They're going to be pissed."

"It's already too late. They're moving her now. She'll be dead in a day."

"So what're we going to do about the Merchants?"

"The boss sends coded letters. We just need to find em."

"Cool it. He's not our boss."

"It doesn't matter. Zucco'll get what he wants. We just need to find the mercs so we can call in the dogs. We don't want any trail leading back that the Dark Knight or the Justicars could track."

"Fine. Let's get off the street."

This mob was geared out with magical equipment. All five of them walked away from the main thoroughfare, and towards a darker back-alley side of the hamlet, out of view.

Spoiler: Knowledge: Arcana

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Key to understanding local magic traditions is understanding the relationship between the elves and the College. Elves are an important influence at the Mage's College, and contribute quite a bit to it's magical study and production. However, the College is regulated by strict Imperial Arcane Law, and the elves, being much more comfortable with the Arcane are...a bit more loosey goosey with their regs. It's not uncommon for both elven misfits and outcasts to intermix with professional magi on South Channel Island to conduct prohibited arcane practices and cavort with the fey.

As a result, you're likely to see activities here (if you look hard enough) that are illegal or frowned upon on the other islands. Necromancy, diabolism, production of illegal alchemical items and/or drugs, fey summoning, eldritch invocations, and sorcery are all likely. Of course, given how crime ridden Gotham is, this isn't the only place where you can find this kind of activity, but it's easily the biggest hot spot.

In keeping with that, you can expect that some of the illusion magic spread all over the hamlet is likely at least partially there to distract from actual criminal activity. It's also likely that the village has multiple centers of power; there is likely at least one archmage (who doesn't necessarily, but might, live here). There is also likely key spiritual leaders nearby, but chances are better than not that they live in the forest and not in the village itself. However, given that this is a great place to perform magic the College wouldn't approve of, so it's likely that one or more criminal gangs or rings or even noble houses is operating here.

Spoiler: Knowledge: Local

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Best places to look around would be the Bar, the open air lounge, or the Temple of Lestai. Alternatively, if you could find out where the Archmage lives, that would be a pretty solid lead. You don't recognize the gambling tent at all -- based on what you know about the area, it seems out of place.

Spoiler: Spellcraft

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The temple of Lestai is guarded by wards that are temporarily deactivated, but appear to be designed to fortify the temple and potentially repel unwanted visitors. The bar is covered by powerful divination's that are apparently designed to watch who goes in and out. Several of the houses are shrouded in glamers, and quite a bit of food and drink have been conjured by simple conjuration spells rather than hand made. You've also identified that only about a third of the merrygoers and dwellers in the town have magic on them (likely magic items) or are themselves spellcasters, which is a lot in normal society but a stark minority compared to how much magic is about.

You've managed to pick out several groups in the town, most of whom aren't actively too drunk or high or dancing, that appear to be packing more magical "heat" than others.

Spoiler: Spoiler

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Stephanie found that, with a little coin and the right dialect, she had a fairly easy time cajoling the elves and other denizens of the hamlet. The Priestess of Lastai who helped her was fine accepting her coin in exchange for flowers, of which the temple already had an over-abundance. Before long, her preparations were in order, and she'd collected enough willing participants to pull it off.

[MrAbdiel]

I could kill him.

Damien considered this option seriously. All it would take is a little antagonism and the goon on the other side of the tent flap would give chance. The big ones always do. Once separated from the main sprawl, he such an enemy would prove little opposition when confronted with the techniques gifted to him by his Grandfather. It's the kind of pragmatism of which his Grandfather would approve. But his father...

...Fine. I shall keep doing it your way, Wayne. For now.

His circle around the tent had given him a chance to see how the pavilion was pegged down. He noted the place were the pegs had the broadest spacing - more slack in it - and concluded that was the way in. He was to distinctive a figure to slip in and just blend - one of the few drawbacks to his diminutive stature that he noticed, and took seriously. Harder to hide in plain sight. But just to hide? Well, that became much easier.

He made sure the coast was clear, then produced a tindertwig, and smokestick. The smokestick he carefully tucked halfway under the lip of the tent wall just to the right of the flap. He pulled a couple of handfuls of the dryer grass nearby, and sculpted it into a shabby little line to serve as a fuse. Then he struck the tindertwig, dropped it into the grass, and booked it around the back of the tent. The grass would burn quickly, and not with enough heat to ignore the tent before being burned up entirely - but the smokestick, designed to be easily ignited, would surely catch after those three-to-six seconds worth of grass-fuse were burned through.

Back to the rear of the tent, he quietly seized the edge of the canvas stretched between the pegs, and listened for the moment.

Spoiler: The Plan!

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Damien figures smoke pouring into the tent will create a decent distraction. The door guard will likely come out and kick the stick away, chalking it up to the drug-addled pranksters the island is no doubt filled with. More importantly, Damien is going to squirm beneath the edge of the tent on the far side from where he planted the stick, and quickly into whatever cover he can find while everyone is looking at the smoke and gabbling to each other about it. If it's just a move silently you want, then I will, ahem, take ten for 31. If you want, say, an escape artist to wriggle under the tent, that pops out at a 20. Then Damien is at the mercy of the immediate terrain, and the natural fire-bad instinct of the people inside.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Damien

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Smoke flowed through the interior of the tent, and for a moment, the patrons inside ignored it, until it became impossible to do so. Anger turned to fright, fright turned to panic, and a commotion spilled through the tent as the first bouncer stepped outside to find the source of the disturbance. Damien rolled under the tent flap while everyone was looking the other way, hopping behind one of the tables. He'd moved almost completely silently; the tent moved a bit as he went through, but no one seemed to notice, possessed as they were with the disturbance.

There are four different tables inside the tent, and each one is manned by an elf, casually dressed up in simple elegant tunics. There's a bar in the back, from which a strange looking elf bartender serves pretty much anything anyone asks for, free of charge. He has a long lock of purple hair and strangely intense, golden eyes. Near the back of the tent, overseeing the commotion, a massive female ogre stands, looking angry, her arms crossed. She looks like a security guard.

The bouncer near the tent walks back in, apparently having snuffed the smoke stick. She has long green hair, and is robustly muscular for an elf, but appears otherwise unarmed.

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: The Daring Do of Damien, Cont.

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Well. This a little more than I expected.

Damien had anticipated a few tables and a little coin changing hands, but with this deluxe bar set up, and intimidatingly professional looking security, this seemed more like a semi permanent gambling establishment using the festivities as cover... rather than a slapdash set of cardsharps enjoying the game as part of that festivity. Caution, then - but he didn't want to extract without getting some interesting information, at least. He targets the nearest table to his hiding place with active gamblers- ideally with ongoing conversation - and attempts to sneak closer, drifting low in the tight confines of the tent, between the shadows cast by the perimiter lamps. He waits for the dealer of that table to do whatever they are doing - turning a card, resolving a round of betting, or whatever will keep the gamblers mind on the top of the table.. and then tries to sneak under it, hunkering tightly at the centre of a nexus of legs, table and humanoid alike, shielded by the dangling tablecloth, but not much else. And from there, he listens.

Spoiler: Sneaky Sneak

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According to the cover-to-cover rules from Complete Adventurer, I can take 10 to sneak across a 5ft distance at a 23, or a more risky 10ft distance at 18, if necessary - trying to get close enough to listen in. And maybe tie some shoelaces together, I dunno.

[Feathersnow]

"That sounds good. Obviously, I don't have the money or the armor here now, but I will be back soon."

[Molan]

Spoiler: Kate

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"Very well." The ancient replied. "I'll be here when you return. Or, one of my apprentices will at any rate. Enjoy your time on the island ...but do me a favor, deary. Stay away from Chuk's...I like you, and that shiftless idiot isn't trustworthy. Oh, and stay away from the woods. The gods are hungry this time of year."

With that cryptic warning, the mage went back to whatever she'd been doing before Kate entered, and the spiker warrior left the tent.

Spoiler: OOC

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okay, where to next?

[JoyWonderLove]

Spoiler: NOW: THAT'S WHAT I CALL CRINGE/MUSIC. (Take 10 on Perform: 15 & Diplomacy: 30)

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(made a few changes. dancers now just clapping slowly and rhythmically, so everyone has a basic cadence to stick to, with the amateur [?] singers and drunks and I doing the song itself)

=When the pieces are together= (Diplomacy: 30 to unite the different pieces, Perform: 15 because some drunk/high/distracted voices probably need a guiding one?)

The wooden stool was already dragged to the side opposite of the wine bar. When the song Robyn and her band were promoting came to its natural end, and they seemed to be preparing for their next, the purple clad blonde stepped unto her pseudo podium and drew her sai with a conductor’s flourish. The wine bar patrons didn’t need a band, training, or even sobriety behind them to show their love. Flicking its head theatrically at the amateur dancers, Stephanie mouthed one. They started clapping loudly, but slowly, even rhythmically. A simple background cadence was set. At the alcoholics in the room came the next flick of the sai. Two, she mouthed, and the bartender turned to his drunken and distracted patrons to get them ready to unite. The final flick was aimed at the amateur singers that she hoped would really help hold the entire effort together. Three. Both hands were raised and pointed at the stage then, a signal to direct their collective love towards the entertainers, leading in a softly strong and borderline melodic voice.

“
Stared into your eyes all the same,
Window shopping for a flame,
Even stained glass ain’t so pained,
But could not look away,
So much shame and hate and crooked goals.”

Behind, I see the gold,
Rubies hopeful for the whole,
Diamonds held only by the bold,
Vast fortunes all untold,
Babe, I won’t leave well enough alone. ”

Think you’re cute with your guile,
Think you’re shrewd in a bind,
Think you’re smart as an hourglass design,
But for love you’re dumb and dull and deaf and slow,”

Couldn’t read it on my lips,
Still defenceless against a kiss,
Your heart unguarded by the bliss,
So I palmed it as it is;
Far too late to hide rose quartz from me.”

Started picking locks on your mind,
Brushed sleep off your eyes,
Our hands always entwined,
Poetry, hail or shine,
Healing pain you never knew you had. ”

This wasn’t some smash and grab,
Didn’t case your place for a one night stand,
I’m with ya ‘till the promised land,
Narrow minded as I am,
But at least you know I’ve got an open heart.”

Please forgive me if I’ve got an open heart,
Far from perfect, but I’ve got an open heart,
Narrow-minded, but I’ve got an open heart.”

When the last note of their collective voices rang out, a moment of pristinely satisfied silence was allowed before the crowd broke into applause. First seemingly to itself for pulling off the stunt, and with a little encouragement, at the performers on stage that had inspired them. Stephanie whistled enthusiastically at the band herself. “We love you Robyn!” the amateur singer-maestro shouted through cupped hands. She pointed the sai one last time, and hands far nearer the stage performers tossed the rose bouquet to landed easily at Robyn’s feet.

The work to let the singer know she was richly appreciated done, and hoping she had already seen past the obvious purple-clad fan disguise, Stephanie stepped down from the stool and fished out one of the pink tabs again. She pretended to waver on whether to pop one into her mouth before crushing it in her hand and blowing the pieces off dismissively, like overdried cherry blossoms.

If she doesn’t call me over for an autograph or something, I’ll have to burn time before approaching. Way too much attention to pickpocket drugs out of circulation…wine bar?

(ooc=Spot/Listen in case there’s anything to investigate: 17/18)

[JbeJ275]

While the first conversation made for an immediate entry on the ever growing list of disasters she felt the need to take personal responsibility to avert the second was more important for the moment. And depending on the relevant her could be what they were looking for… though that would raise some question as to the exact relationship between a couple of the factions she was trying to tear down…

For the moment though her only recourse was to quietly begin her standard divination of Detect Thoughts, while trailing the thugs related to the second conversation at a distance and releasing Julius into the wider party with instructions to find and retrieve Kate, Stephanie and more reluctantly, Damien.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Damien

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A lot of what Damien heard was idle and useless chit chat. Most of the campers didn't seem to have anything particularly interesting to say. They were invested in the game, but she eventually figured out was called "Boneyard", but they weren't doing particularly well -- the House almost always won.

Eventually though, he did hear something slightly interesting.

"I'm coming back here tomorrow. This place is great."

"Good luck. I've been here four times, this Hamlet isn't always this much fun. And I've never seen this tent here before today. This is a traveling joint."

"Really?" a third man said. "This place seems pretty fuggin' permanent."

"I know, but it's not. I'm telling you it wasn't here last week. Go ahead, ask her."

There was some indeterminate noises and an uncomfortable shuffling before the second voice said.

"That true? How long you worked here?"

The dealer seemed to respond in a blank noncommittal voice.

"Not long. It's just a pickup job."

"So you've never met the proprietors before in your life?"

"What do you care? You a Justicar or something?"

Damien couldn't discern why, but the mood at the Boneyard table had just tensed up ever so slightly.

Spoiler: Kate

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Having concluded her conversation with the elf Wizard, Kate stepped outside, inside a little bit. Now she needed to go find her compatriots, who'd all wandered off into the party. She looked around to see what the best direction to start walking would be, but as she was looking around the area, she heard a faint clicking sound from above her. A moment later, Julius landed from somewhere just up above her perching himself on her shoulder. His small leathery wings wrapped around her shoulder, avoiding her spikes, his tiny little bad hands gripping the hem of her tunic.

He chirped at her a few times in his strange subsonic voice, then took off again, flapping his way south a bit before whizzing back to grab her attention again. He wheeled around just as fast, turning back south, then cut west, seeming to try to draw her to follow him.

Kate quietly hoped that nothing had gone wrong, unable to read the little bat's body language. She marched off in the direction he'd led her.

Spoiler: Oracle

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Barbara followed the getting up thugs past the pastel colored houses to the back alley on the outside of the thorpe.

Julius hopped out of her cloak and toon off, his clicking echoing sound periodically announcing his presence until he was lost in the din of the party. He felt eager -- he'd find the others and bring them back to Barbara. He seemed sure of it

She kept a safe distance so that the thugs would not notice her, but kept her inside of the cone of her detect thoughts spell.

She found that the gang of thugs was both similar and desperate, based on what was running through their heads.

The first man was a common criminal. His mind was on money, and drugs, and women, and it was steeped in paranoia about the men he was working with, who might betray him, whether he'd get paid and what his next score would be. He wanted them to pay him now, so he could visit the temple of Lastai, but he'd been a Gotham cutthroat long enough to avoid appearing desperate.

He was engaged in commiting crimes and passing his efforts on to the highest bidder. If someone asked him for information, he'd sell it. If he stole some valuables, he'd launder it through a Dark Market fence. He'd well drugs and pass contraband arcana. He was essentially a kind of freelance criminal.

He'd also been asked explicitly to look for the people helping the Merchant's Guild. He didn't know all the players, but he's convinced that Baron Zucco and Boss Falcone, two of the most powerful crime bosses in Gotham, want Fox and his guild gone. He also feels extremely confident that the crime lords have Noble backers.

The man who'd said "Cool it, he's not our boss." Appeared through context to be a Dark Market agent. Unfortunately his mind was more of a fortress, and her spell couldn't penetrate his thoughts.

The third man is a Thieves Guild footpad. He's also trading in secrets but he sees the Dark Market agent as a more trusted contact and repeat business partner. There's a decent amount of pay in store for him in the job he's working on. He's looking forward to helping knock out whatever mercenaries the nobles are mad at and getting his payday.

He's also generally a very confident person. He feels like he's in his home terrain (he's an elf). He's armed with a lethal magical weapon, and so are his friends. He feels that people like him run this town, and he's proud of his own deadly talents.

The fourth is the most interesting, however. Between the four of them, he knows something the others all don't. He's officially a very low ranking Bard's Guild member, but he's secretly on the payroll of House Nigma. Thugs like the men with him see him as just a fellow criminal; even as a licensed bard his actual career has been mostly all criminal -- he does very little with the Guild. So the Thief, the Fence and the Contractor all see him as one of them, and they don't know who really pays him. His job, more than anything else, is to lie. He lies about who he is and what he's up to, and then uses that cover to pass secrets back to his House Nigma handler.

It's important for his cover that the others not know he's directly involved in their contracts with the Nigma's. He first recruited the Thief by skipping a coded Nigma Letter under his door one day, and acted surprised when the Thief showed it to him. He'd then continue to pass rumors from "anonymous sources" to his compatriots, leading then to move Nigma dead drops. The coded notes gave these men and hundreds like them throughout the city instructions, and he acted his part as a willing aid to their exploits, never revealing he was passing news of their activities back to the Nigma's themselves.

His job here is to, using the thugs he's with, work to track down the Thieves Guild Mercs so the Nigma's can send killers to out then on ice, and to warn the Nigma's if the mercenaries get to close to their trail.

Spoiler: OOC

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Role move silently or hide to avoid being seen by the thugs.

Spoiler: Spoiler

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Stephanie's stunt went off more or less without a hitch.

After the room calm down she made her way over to another table where a few drunken on lookers shared their positive regards. Someone even handed her a drink.

While she was schmoozing at her table, she didn't see much else of interest to her inside the bar -- not pertaining to her mission, at any rate. (there was plenty *interesting* things happening inside the bar, but watching a half orc make out with a gnome wasn't particularly mission sensitive).

She did overhear one interesting tidbit though -- a couple of loudmouthed human braggarts near the bar -- one a mage and the other a bard, by the looks of them -- were arguing over the future if the governance of the city. The Bard seemed certain that House James was doomed. According to him, there'd be new Lord's of Gotham by the end of the year.

While she listened, someone came up behind her and places their hand in her arm.

She turned slightly and found herself face to face with Robyn, who was smiling despite a surprised looking twinke in her eye.

"That was quite a performance." she said. "Did you practice that in advance?"

[JbeJ275]

Spoiler: Oracle

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The range of flavors of base criminality on display saw Barbara set her jaw firm once more as she followed them at a distance. Her thoughts split between moving to take them out the moment her reinforcements arrived and seeing what plans they could brew up with the freshly divined information. If nothing else, it had provided some clarity on which spiders were weaving this particular web together.

For the moment there was little she could do to interfere, not until the numbers were at least somewhat closer, and with her unable to track the other mercenary she had to consider the possibility he'd join the fight against them if it got too loud in too public a venue. Instead she put her trust in her familiar, keeping an ear out for the sound of one of the others being drawn back to her position and trying to identify the equipment each of her foes held. The Nigma loyalist in particular... did he have a way of remotely warning house Nigma he could do amidst a battle or would just ensuring he didn't get away at the end be sufficient to maintain their cover for the moment.

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: Damien Do, Cont.

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Strange. Very strange. The little ninja considered slyly, stroking his fake, unconvincing moustache in his hiding spot. The illusion of permeance only serves one purpose - to discourage charges of hucksterism. And one kind of folk works harder to discourage charges of hucksterism than all others - hucksters. But what's the point? A similar operation somewhere with wealthier clientele would be a better play, if it's just rigged games. What does the weird elf behind the bar - presumably the proprietor, based on an instinct he couldn't quite source - get out of this? There must be more going on.

But nothing more he could discern with his skills alone. If he could... lure the bartender away, maybe.
Tie them up and kick them till they bleat - ... No. No, this part of the work is a shortfall of his talents.
It grieves him - but he knows very well this is something for which he would have to call on his allies.

He needed another distraction to slip out the way he came. From under the table, he skulks over to where two men at the table are sitting adjacent to each other, ideally across the table from his point of egress- the ones whose natural eyeline is most likely to see the little figure scurrying away from the other side of the able.
He reaches up with both hands, one hand to one of each gambler's thighs, side by side in their chairs, and gives both a brisk squeeze - creating, he hopes, the startling illusion that each had presumptuously squeezed on the other. Such a sensation would likely create either a spectacle of awkwardness, or possibly violence depending on the temperament of the gamblers involves - but with either, he's ready to slink out from under the tablecloth while everyone's eyes are on the baffled schmucks, and then under the tent flap again, out to the carnival proper... there to see help.

Spoiler: OOC

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Taking no chances here, if I don't have to. All the take-tens still in motion - 28 for hide, 31 for Move Silently. 18 for Bluff, if you want that for the sort of tactile 'feint' he's just used. If it's too risky and you want me to roll any of them, though.. just let me know. I'm your huckleberry.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Damien

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Damien's ruse worked.

One of the men sprang up immediately, while the other looked confused, almost like he was about to look under the table. But it was rapidly too late.

"What the hell was that!?" the first one snapped.

"No that wasn't me you idiot --" but before he could get any more out, the first man punched him in the face.

Things got ugly after that. Damien rolled between them and bolted, quietly making his exit. Quickly the rest of the table got involved. Someone hit the elf dealer in the head, and she fell over. Quickly, the ogre security guard stomped over to put an end to the rucuss. But Damien didn't have time for all of that, rapidly slipping back out of the tent as things began to spiral.

Somewhere behind him, he almost thought he heard the dealer moaning, "Oh gods...oh gods..." but by then he was gone.

Out in the "street" once again, he was free to go about his business. He brushed himself off, looking for an indication for where the three women who'd accompanied him might have gone.

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: Damien's Digression

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Knaves.

He brushes some loose grass off himself as he recovers from his scurrying roll, then begins to scan around the grounds. A big place like this… If he was going to find the others, he’s need to spot them from higher ground. So he looks for the point of greatest elevation in the area…

[Molan]

Spoiler: Damien

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The highest point that Damien can pick out is the top of the Temple of Lastai; it's sloped roofs demarcate a full four stories, allowing it to tower over the second highest buildings, similar looking elven two story homes.

[JoyWonderLove]

Spoiler: Bluffs for believability and complex messages

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“Every weekday, three-to-five. You didn’t see the flyers?” The reveller quipped, the table nearly forgotten for the local talent that chose to directly approach her instead. However towering her presence on stage, she still had a few inches on the singer up close.

“Marcy. Easily your second biggest fan in all Gotham. Gilded Ones and Hearts for Hire really changed my entire view on guilds and the cityscape.” The first song spoke to the open corruption of the guilds, and how their monopolistic grip was keen to strangle the creativity, if not the life, out of the competition. The second song spelled out too plainly the dangers of treating love like a delusion and sex workers like soulless mercenaries.

“Anyway, lemme introduce you to my new friends.”

The rounds were made for the table’s small assortment of the half drunk and pleasantly dazed, with Stephanie unable to immediately tell any actual House Nigma spooks from the sincerely hammered and happy. So she smiled and winked and flirted jovially in turns as she pointed out each one, and rattled off the little she recalled about them. Or else, their aliases and cover stories. She sipped the wine glass casually, but didn’t gamble her own cover had yet to be compromised for overplaying her hand. Attention was no issue, as long as near everyone saw only what she wanted them to.

“Y’know, when I first spied South Channel Isle as fey gods and elves, I knew everyone would be all ears for humans. We’re almost exotic here! Now, I completely get why some people just disappear from their daily lives. This place is riddled with so much magic and mystery it’s hard not to find what you love...” She placed the wine glass down, and pushed it towards the centre of the table while she eyed the potential celebrity knowingly.

“Actually, I just finished my drink. Can I buy you one over at…?”

The wine bar still had its two noisy patrons to cover quieter conversations, and the change invited closer contact without raising suspicion from onlookers. But she remained open to better options.

Spoiler: Bluff 20: Complex message to Robyn.

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Can’t speak freely: place is all ears. Missing person’s case, with House Nigma involved. Still wanted to see you.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Spoiler

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Robyn smiled wide, doing an excellent job to pretend she didn't register anything about the way Stephanie had spoken, but her response said it all.

"Oh, I don't know. I just got off. We've got a few rooms in the cooperative across the street, and more than a few bottles of Sehsan Craft up in my room. Wanna head over to my place and open one?"

She winked at Stephanie as she did so, and the torchlight in the bar twinkled in her eyes. Stephanie nodded enthusiastically and the two of them took off, out of the bar.

They crossed the "street", keeping up the giggly, merry facade the entire way, until they found themselves inside one of the strange, curving, multicolored two story structures that dotted the hamlet.

The "cooperative" was mostly bedchambers, and a solitary elf bard tended a fire in the hearth, looking half drunk and peaceful, on the main floor.

"Evening Atha." Robyn hummed as they made their way upstairs. "Atha" didn't answer, instead continuing to tend to the fire, quietly humming to herself.

When they got upstairs, Stephanie saw it was occupied by a small study and two more bedchambers. The largest one had a big open window that faced the street and the party down below, but the whole top floor was quiet, dark, and empty. The largest chamber was Robyn's. She closed the door behind them.

"Don't worry about Atha. She'll be asleep soon. Now what the hell was all that down there? Is someone in trouble!? I haven't seen you in forever? Are you alright? Tell me everything."

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: Damien's Discovery

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That'll do nicely.

He makes his way over to the temple, skulks around behind it to its blindest side, and produces the Rod of Ropes to ascend to the roof. Once there, on the top of exclusively four story building,
he has the world to himself. With a little extra caution, expecting eyes to be cast upward and around more in a colorful environment like this than most Gotham streets, he peeks down at the streets below, looking for the forms of the three women he came here with. The task would be impossible, if he didn't not precisely what disguises to look for.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Damien

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Damien looked out over the festivities, but he had a hard time seeing any of his compatriots. To the north, he saw a quartet of shady looking figures smoking behind the bar, but couldn't see any indication of Oracle, Spoiler, or Kate. At one point he thought he saw a flash of purple on the street, but it was nothing.

Eventually something did catch his eye. To the South he thought he saw something flitting through the air, when he turned and looked he saw Kate's dark, spiked, ominous form making her way up the street. Eventually he figured out what had caught his eye -- it was Julius, Oracle's bat, bouncing back and forth between Kate and the other side of the market as though trying to lead her in a specific direction.

"What the hell did I miss?" He wondered to himself.

Spoiler: Barbara

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as Barbara watched, she waited for her allies to arrive. The thugs in front of her continued with their meandering conversation eventually honing in on what they needed to do next.

"So, we find the mercenaries and we put them on ice? Is that it?"

"That, or their families yeah. The Boss would also accept just finding out who hired them. If we can link a contract to Fox, the bankers might be able to go after the merchants directly."

"I still don't get it. How are we supposed to cash in? If we find out who they are, how are we going to pass that info on?"

"You've still got the note don't you?"

"Yeah but it's gibberish. 'Hair is silk and skin is fair, my perfume lures you through the air. Once time has come, your quarry tract, you'll always find me on my back.' The fug is all that supposed to mean?"

The thug had struggled to even read the letter, any spoken in halting unsteady tone as he rattled off the riddle. The House Nigma informant visibly rolled his eyes.

"The contact is a courtesan you idiot." He said. "The drop is in the Temple of Lastai. We get what we need, go there, and one of 'em'll be marked. Bet my bottom dollar. Then we can get paid."

Barbara could see that the informant wasn't giving up all of the information he had and she continued to read his thoughts. He intended to pass a message along to his superiors the moment the other thugs discovered the "mercenaries". Whoever was working in the temple of Lastai That was supposed to pay them for completing their task, was just another pawn. The informant's actual boss was elsewhere.

Truth be told however, Barbara was getting nervous. The thugs had almost finished their cigars, and they look like they were getting ready to head out. If Julius didn't return soon with help, she was going to be on her own, or risk losing sight of the informant.

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: Damien’s Descent

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Finally! There was Kate, her tall, distinct silhouette a lighthouse of familiarity sprouting from a sea of reprobates. He clocks her trajectory, then rappels down the side of the temple. If he can, he’ll cross all the way to the other side then begin to follow her parallel on the rooftops over there. Two story buildings are less impressive, but he can make that jump to the ground directly, if he’s heading into unpleasantness.