Greep is getting very concerned about Blacky's absence, but he understands that she must decide when to sneak in or out of the warehouse. He keeps watching. If he doesn't see hide nor hair of Swift soon, he is considering sneaking close enough to listen to the gobbos.
In the past couple of hours Greep has seen at least two dozen goblins coming and going. Most of them are male goblins in full chain mail, although a family group of two adults and four goblin imps chattter by Greep's position at one point.
Greep does notice that these goblins are very well geared. Most goblins of his acquaintance would be dressed in scavenged armor and weapons. Every one of the goblins you have seen has been dressed in fitted chain armor and armed with well-made shortswords and bows. None that you have seen have any sort of protective gear, but several have seemed to have a silver necklace tucked inside their mail shirts.
Staying hidden in one place doesn't let Greep follow too many conversations, but what he does hear are interesting fragments:
<in Goblin>
...I told Frerkak that that pinkskin berk would never buy from us ...
...I hope I get rotated back to the mine soon, I hate this city ...
...Did you try the Cranium Rat stew Hertogga made, sodding choice it was ...
...Were gonna need to find more scaleskins if we wants to expand ...
Greep faces a choice. Instinct says that Swift would have made a stink if caught, and he would have seen more action at the warehouse. Things remain relatively quiet. The time is slowly ticking on, and After Antipeak has begun . The streets are emptying slowly, only the truly nocturnal and desperate are about. This is the time of Antipeak often called the Dustmen's Hours, since many of their collection carts start travelling about looking for corpses. Greep is tired from his long day, but can stay focused and on guard if he wishes.
"Whart're yeh two berks doin' bangin' 'bout me kip?""Hello sir, we're from the ale and chat benevolence society."
Eir does the cloak pull away so everyone can be sure that she's armed.
"I buy, you chat. Interested?"
The man squints at the two, and ponders Eir's words. He smiles, a full compliment of decayed teeh showing in the torchlight from the burning brand his large friend carries.
"Sure, I alwaysh like to have a bit o'chat after a night at the tap. Why dunn we take a moment and come inside to me kip. Fizzgig, if you would do the honors?"
The large man(?) grunts
"Sure thing Rab."
The large man lurches towards the iron door and produces a large key. He inserts it, tumbles the lock and opens the door.
The small man sketches Eir and Ffethpaar a drunken bow.
"After you friendsh."
Zigel basked in the crowd as they made there ways back to the HQ sigil really was the hub of everything it seemed. He looked over at karrin as they pushed though the crowds and wondered to himself " just how AM I gonna keep the cutter from getting in the dead book? Rattling here bonebox like that leatherheaded clueless. Oh well " He thinks as they walk along with the crowd
Kratos trotted behind the pair of tiflings. He liked walks he liked the smells of this city. Oh so many new scents and smells he loved that. He knew the red girl....Karrin yes karrin had done something not smart what he didn't know twoleggers confused him often.Hummm he wondered if it would rain....Kratos liked rain.
Greep tears a page from his notebook.
He writes, "S. not returned. g. waiting near target. quiet back up wanted. have info. croaker"
Greep uses 'prestidigitation' to change the ink to the same color as the paper, then uses the paper to wrap the salt instead of the purchased cloth bag. He adds his newly purchased pipe to the bundle, tying the two together. He writes a second note, clumsily stashing it in the bowl of the pipe. It says, in draconic, 'bring the husband, she's with him. hurry.' He tries to remember where he has seen touts gathering in the area or around the market.
Greep thinks to himself, "I'll send the bundle to the Cauldron, to be given to 'Kratos' or one of his pals. Hopefully Bess will get it to the team. By then, they should be able to read the note and can respond. With luck, Swift will return before they can arrive. But this is the last time we start a mission with out a pre-arranged message drop. I don't like risking the Cauldron and Bess. Hmm, I'll tell the tout I need to get the package to my pal at the inn because I'm running late and still need to meet someone (then I'll wink). When they search, they'll find the clumsily hidden note, but not the real one."
As he goes off to get the message sent, he tries to remember how much Z. said to pay a tout.
"That worked out well I think," Karrin says after they're a safe distance away from the shop, "she likes me and I think we can trust her, plus I think we can safely say she's not supplying the goblins. Next time you got to jump in sooner, you let me blab everything, and although I think it worked in our favor this time, next time we'll want to keep some stuff from who we're talking to. Besides not everyone is going to take a rube asking all those questions . . . then we need to switch to good guy / bad gal, and I hate playing the bad person."
Karrin blinks as if an idea just popped into her head, "Say, not that we're in the cage you could play the bad guy, back at home everyone used to think that the tiefling was supposed to be the bad guy, but tieflings are common here, and I could play the good gal for once!"
Ffethpaar flexes his claws and looks at the two drunks
"Well, it can't smell any worse than the place we have just been. But please, you go in first. I'd like to be near the door in case I need some fresh air. Please do not take any offence, but I have just been in a most unwholseome place so enclosed spaces are not my favourite just now."
"Was that the right style?" He thinks. "I may have more to learn. Think smiles."
Zigel and Karrin hit the crowded night streets of the Great Bazaar enroute to the Silver Rose. It is still before Antipeak and the crowd about the great marketplace is aswarm with merchants and customers. you both see many tieflings of various pedigrees lining the streets along with gangs of Orcs, Goblins, Bugbears and various other humanoid races. The darker side of the Sigilian population has claimed Antipeak and the Great Bazaar as their own.
You pass a blue-skinned hag, ugly and frightening as death itself. She stands next to a huge wicker basket, which bulges randomly. A skeletal-looking fiend haggles with her animatedly, occasionally slamming his military fork's shaft on the cobbles as emphasis to his debate. As you stroll by, the large hag takes a long-handled set of forceps and drags a squealing three-foot long maggot grub with a tiny human face from the innards of the wicker basket and presents it to her skeletal customer. The grub squeals in a tiny voice The skeletal fiend stalks off with his squealing purchase in tow.
A tall and slender Aasimar girl walks by the two, dressed in a ragged skirt and fishnet stockings. Her pale skin is covered in riot of tattoos, almost an entire body suit. She has a pair of wings that have red flames dyed along their white edges. She smiles at Zigel, her ethereal face pierced and studded with a plethora of metal bits. Her purple-dyed hair is chopped short and spiked in random directions. Two scowling mohawked and tattooed young men trail her, dressed in a rainbow assortment of ragged clothes.
The two walk on along Copperman Way until they reach Copper Court. The darkness has quieted the activity here, and the street is empty except for the light and noise spilling from the Copper Cauldron.
You reach the Silver Rose, and find the door still unlocked. You enter and find Renkar sitting up at the hallway desk reading a book, Mercutio draped across its' scarred surface snoring. He looks up and smiles.
"Ah Ser Za Elric and Miss Kind. I trust your equipment foray went well?"
Greep remembers seeing several touts hanging about the New Market. At most marketplaces there is usually a small temple dedicated to the Greek power Hermes where professional couriers hang about waiting for commissions from patrons. Greep saw one while perusing the stalls earlier.
Greep makes his way to the temple. The marketplace is still crowded, but the crowd has gotten more drunken and fiendish-looking. At the temple, Greep spys a teenaged tiefling boy leaning against a hitching post. He wears the stylized winged shoe brooch of the Courier's Guild at his shoulder. When Greep approaches him they negotiate a 1 Lady fee for him to deliver the package to 'Kratos' at the Copper Cauldron. The youth speeds off into the night, promising a swift delivery.
Ffethpaar flexes his claws and looks at the two drunks
"Well, it can't smell any worse than the place we have just been. But please, you go in first. I'd like to be near the door in case I need some fresh air. Please do not take any offence, but I have just been in a most unwholseome place so enclosed spaces are not my favourite just now."
"Was that the right style?" He thinks. "I may have more to learn. Think smiles."
The small man scowls at Ffethpaar.
"Fine by me berk. Come in lasht, but I ken yeh're the ones wanna palaver with me, not t'other way around."
The large man has opened the courtyard gate and he enters, stepping to the side.
Once safely (or perilously) inside, Eir is quite blunt.
"Do you know a Mr. Norgins?"
Eir and Ffethpaar enter the courtyard with the small man and the dark man. They enter into a bare yard with dirt, muck and dusty cobbles scattered about. There seems to have been a small garden at one point, but that point was obviously in days long gone by. Only razorvine grows here now, snaking along the courtyard walls and the house. The dark man walks towards the house a bit, then turns and stands with a hand on a small crossbow strapped to his belt.
When Eir asks his question, the small man turns and smiles at Eir. Eir can smell stale ale and cloves coming from his moldy bonebox. He sketches another drunken bow to her.
"Why my pert bint, you shee before yeh Rab Norgins himself in all his glory."
Rab jerks his head towards his large friend who is standing to the side of the iron gate door. You both hear him swinging it shut quickly.
"Now wha I wants to know is who might be inquirin' after ol' Rab?"
While Ffethpaar holds the door Eir pulls her cape back over her shoulders to make her sabers accessible.
"Eir Haakonen, Mr. Norgins. You wasted your free question."
Greep hurries back to his previous position overlooking the warehouse. He is careful, in spite of his need to return, that his passage is unnoticed. He hopes Swift has not returned in his absence, but the errand was necessary if a rescue is needed. He also tries to keep a lookout for his allies.
If he feels safe doing so, he will examine the warehouse with 'Detect Magick'.
With a sudden need for faith, he prays, "Ancestor keep you safe, Swift, and bring you out of peril." -greep-
Ffethpaar has taken care to go in last so that anyone will have to go through him to close the gate, so he quickly moves to block the door being closed."All we need is answers. I said enclosed spaces do not please me."
Intimidate the guy at the door. (1d20+2=12)
"That didn't sound quite right. Something else to work on"
Looking at the large man he gets ready to lunge with his claws if he comes too near.
Greep hurries back to his previous position overlooking the warehouse. He is careful, in spite of his need to return, that his passage is unnoticed. He hopes Swift has not returned in his absence, but the errand was necessary if a rescue is needed. He also tries to keep a lookout for his allies.
If he feels safe doing so, he will examine the warehouse with 'Detect Magick'.
With a sudden need for faith, he prays, "Ancestor keep you safe, Swift, and bring you out of peril." -greep-
The night fog thickens as Greep awaits word from his friends. He shivers a bit. Although Sigil doesn't suffer from radical changes of weather, the temperature dips down during the After Antipeak hours. Greep's breath smokes a bit in the fog and he huddles into his cloak for warmth.
While Ffethpaar holds the door Eir pulls her cape back over her shoulders to make her sabers accessible.
"Eir Haakonen, Mr. Norgins. You wasted your free question."
perception +7 (+2 for listen)1d20+7=12
stealth +131d20+13=14
disable device (includes pick locks) +9 1d20+9=25
appraise +9 1d20+9=16
Strength check (adding +2 for acrobatics if that counts) (1d20+4=14)
Ffethpaar moves quicly, trying to block the large man from swinging the door shut, but can't get a good purchase on it. The door rebuffs him as it swings shut with a dull bong. Fftehpaar is left staring at the large shambling form of Rab's minion, who you believe he called Fizzgig. Fizzgig has a crudely iron-banded club in his hand. He grins wickedly, revealing a scattered yellow field of crooked teeth.
She whispers the words: "Pareo mihi".
She stares right through Norgins, her voice taking on a powerful timbre: "Tell your men to let us go."
Norgins' eyes bulge out as Eir's spell takes effect. He shouts out in a loud voice.
"Back off boyos, let the two of 'em go!"
His two companions frown, the dark one at the ready with his crossbow, Fizzgig ready to swing his club.
Seeing the goons are not going to obey: "Back off Norgins."
Eir's initiative rank: 16+3=19
Ffeth's initiative rank: 16+1=17
perception +7 (+2 for listen)1d20+7=12
stealth +131d20+13=14
disable device (includes pick locks) +9 1d20+9=25
appraise +9 1d20+9=16
Greep waits for about a half hour then decides to act. He tries Detect Magic on the warehouse front to determine if there are any arcane wards present. Unfortunately, he has to move from his sheltered spot to get a good complete round on the warehouse's exterior. He moves slowly, and completes the spell. He walks slowly, letting his arcane sight probe the building's facade as he checks for easy entrypoints.
As Greep's arcane vision fades, he is suddenly startled by a loud screech in Goblin from near the warehouse.
"BREE-YARK!!!!!" ::Intruder!!::
Seeing the goons are not going to obey: "Back off Norgins."
Eir's initiative rank: 16+3=19
Ffeth's initiative rank: 16+1=17
Initiative:
Eir: 19
Ffethpaar: 17
Dark man: 16
Fizzgig: 7
Rab (still charmed): 5
Post actions and I will see you in a few hours!
Eir engages the dark man, drawing her sabers on the run, and attacks with both:
Att/Dam: 1d20 4=6, 1d8 1=9,
Att/Dam: 1d20 4=12, 1d8 1=5
She's a little shaky, perhaps too much loving and not enough fighting lately.
Greep hears , and knows he's been detected. He begins to hurry off, but not run. He'll draw a wand (expeditious retreat), and try to draw off any individual sentry who follows. If too many take up the chase, he'll use a charge from the wand to boost his chances of evasion. If only one or two chase, he'll begin to run at his normal speed, planning to ambush his pursuers when he gets the chance.
"This may work for me. If I can take out the sentry, he may have one of those pendants. The anthill will be riled up, and that may let Swift get out of the building in the hulabaloo."
Assuming that Ffethpaar is now standing opposite Fizzgig, he lashes out with tooth and claw. He will take a five foot step if necessary.
Claw/Claw/Bite (1d20+3=14, 1d20+3=22, 1d20+1=15)
Damage (Claw/Claw/Bite) (1d4+2=6, 1d4+2=5, 1d4=2)
D. Monkey
These attack rolls assume Ffethpaar is not wearing his fancy claws. If you deem that he is (see discussion thread) add 1 to the rolls.
Eir engages the dark man, drawing her sabers on the run, and attacks with both:
Att/Dam: 1d20 4=6, 1d8 1=9,
Att/Dam: 1d20 4=12, 1d8 1=5She's a little shaky, perhaps too much loving and not enough fighting lately.
Norgins blinks owlishly and begins to back away from the courtyard gate. Fizzgig looks uncertain, he is backing away with his club at the ready. The dark man screams out as Eir runs to him, raising his small crossbow as he does.
"Fizzgig you bleedin' half-head! The bint's got Rab brainsnatched! She's a dazzler!"
He draws his rapier as she approaches, readying for her attack. Eiris two saw-toothed sabers slash towards him, but he eels out of the way with a quick move of his thin body.
Assuming that Ffethpaar is now standing opposite Fizzgig, he lashes out with tooth and claw. He will take a five foot step if necessary.
Claw/Claw/Bite (1d20+3=14, 1d20+3=22, 1d20+1=15)
Damage (Claw/Claw/Bite) (1d4+2=6, 1d4+2=5, 1d4=2)
D. Monkey
** spoiler omitted **
As Fizzgig hesitates at Rab's command to let them go, Ffethpaar lunges him, steel claws flashing in the torchlight. One claw gouges Fizzgig's side, eliciting a howl of anguish from him. He swings his large oaken club at Ffethpaar's head.
The large club smashes down on the flagstones at Fftehpaar's feet, sending a spray of dirt and stoneshards fountaining up.
The dark man grins evilly after Eir's misses him and goes on the counterattack.
His flashing rapier stabs out but Eir eludes it handily. He scowls and prepares for her riposte.
Ffethpaar mutters something in Aquan under his breath ("First the boneyard and now bad breath!") before casually slashing at the bad man again.
Greep hears , and knows he's been detected. He begins to hurry off, but not run. He'll draw a wand (expeditious retreat), and try to draw off any individual sentry who follows. If too many take up the chase, he'll use a charge from the wand to boost his chances of evasion. If only one or two chase, he'll begin to run at his normal speed, planning to ambush his pursuers when he gets the chance.
"This may work for me. If I can take out the sentry, he may have one of those pendants. The anthill will be riled up, and that may let Swift get out of the building in the hulabaloo."
After the intial yell, Greep can just make out a silhouette on top of a nearby building dimly lit by a nearby foundry flame. The goblins must have a rooftop sentry posted. He hears the sound of doors opening along the narrow sidestreet and the sound of several pairs of boots hitting the pavement at a run. Greep can't see them yet but at the rate they are running they should be visible momentarily. Greep would guess that four goblins are now in pursuit of him.
Ffethpaar mutters something in Aquan under his breath ("First the boneyard and now bad breath!") before casually slashing at the bad man again.
Ffethpaar slashes and bites the hulking form of Fizzgig, his claws sinking in deep and his teeth gashing a rent in his left shoulder. Hot, salt-smelling blood gushes from the wounds. Fizzgig roars in pain and wildly swings his club at his tormentor.
The painful wounds have made Fizzgig swing wild, his large club connecting with the courtyard wall, cracking the brickwork and scattering plaster dust on both combatants.
To the Dark Man in a polite voice, and with a smile: "Are you sure you want to do this? This is the only chance you're going to get."
Eir likes a little chat with her dueling.
The dark man scowls and weaves his rapier in a complex pattern, feet shuffling from side to side in a defensive stance. He speaks to Eir, his original Cant accent subsumed into something closer to standard Common with a hint of another tongue behind it.
"It is only fitting you should know the name of the man who will send you to your final reward, witch. I am Fernaldo Evandim, and I am your death."
Fernaldo's rapier flashes forward with a swift burst of speed. Eir brings her left saber up and deflects the blow with a ringing clash of steel.
"Yes it went well we have items we need for a dip in the salt"glancing at karrin and chuckling "our basher friend here has much to learn about rattiling her bone box,but we also have a place to divy items for some extra jink and there keep it dark. have the others returned yet ?"
Renkar smiles at Zigel's words.
"Yes, Miss Kind has a bit to learn about the Cage, but that is why I think you make such an effective team. I think we should stash the gear and go wait at the Copper Cauldron. The rest of the company has yet to return. It is late, but Bess will allow us to stay up in the common room as long as we want, and it will be more comfortable than this drafty warehouse."
The three put the boxed goods aside in the practice area. Mercutio wakes up briefly, chirps and cheeps a bit, then flys up to his treehouse upstairs to get some rest. Renkar locks the door and puts a sign on the front saying to go to the inn when the rest of the party arrives.
The three of you arrvie at the Copper Cauldron. The common room is still relatively busy, but now the focus is on drinking rather than food. Only Ramona and Bess are in attendance, the other smaller children are most likely in bed. Bess gives the three a weary smile and wave.
The clientele is mostly tradesmen, although you do see a group of disreputable fellows clustered in a dark corner whispering to each other over mugs of ale. They are the exception, and most of the other patrons are just workers out for a bit of company for the evening. You see Clarion Copperman the smith seated at the bar, he nods politely in your direction. The minstrel you had seen at dinner still plays softly by the hearth.
You three find a large table relatively close to the hearth and sit down. Ramona comes up to you and greets you all warmly.
" 'Ello cutters. What's yer fancy this evening?"
Renkar orders a small ale
"Tsk. Tsk. Bonetti's defense cancels out Capo Ferro quite well, don't you think, Fernaldo?"
And with those words Eir lays into Fernaldo with lightning speed.
Discard: 1d20+4=10, Attack: 1d20+4=24... CRIT!
Damage: 1d8+1=7
Discard: 1d20+4=13, Confirm: 1d20 4=23... CONFIRMED!
1d8+1=7
Attack: 1d20+4=19, Discard: 1d20+4=7
1d8+1=9
In a matter of seconds Eir's slashes cut Fernaldo to ribbons.
"Idiot!" Thinks Ffethpaar as the club goes wild again. If there's one thing he can't stand, other than smelly people and bad manners, it is sloppy fighting.
Greep thinks, "Four on one is a bit much. But maybe I can get them to split up during the pursuit."
"Cursare" -greep-
With a word, Greep activates his wand and begins his movement. His plan is to move quickly at first, until he can determine how many will chase. He hopes the sentries are not stationed in depth and that he can get through their lines before they catch up to him. If the number is something he can handle, he will attempt an ambush, though the Broken Claw tribe seems too organized to allow that tactic to work. He replaces the first wand with another as he continues to move back towards the Market.
Hopefully, this will be a distraction Swift can use.
...
"Tsk. Tsk. Bonetti's defense cancels out Capo Ferro quite well, don't you think, Fernaldo?"
And with those words Eir lays into Fernaldo with lightning speed.
Discard: 1d20+4=10, Attack: 1d20+4=24... CRIT!
Damage: 1d8+1=7
Discard: 1d20+4=13, Confirm: 1d20 4=23... CONFIRMED!
1d8+1=7
Attack: 1d20+4=19, Discard: 1d20+4=7
1d8+1=9
In a matter of seconds Eir's slashes cut Fernaldo to ribbons.
In a flashing blur of steel Eir's two sabres slash Fernaldo to the quick. He groans and collapses to the dirty cobbles of the courtyard, blood pouring from his mortal wounds.
Norgins is still slowly moving backwards, bumping repeatedly into the side of his kip as Fernaldo breathes his last.