Marcus Whiteshae |
Where do I hail?
Marcus paused. He'd caused enough grief this night, perhaps he should attempt to build a bridge or two.
I was raised in an isolated elven community in a place called Little Hollow, which is in a forest on the Varisian border...The players get the info from Marcus bio.
Ascaria de Vintre |
Ascaria sits down at the table and listens intently to Marcus' tale. The story adds a whole new color to her picture of the ranger. Although she had not thought of him as a protector and watcher of innocent townsfolk, she thought that it fit.
When he came to the part with the demon, she reaches over the table and squeezes his hand lightly. "I am sorry for your loss. It must be terrible to have everything that you love taken away."
She takes a sip from her cup of wine and continues. Well, my own story is not near as dramatic although it carries a certain note of sadness. I grew up near Riddleport with my grandmother... You will also find the rest of Ascaria's story in my profile.
Ethaniel Meveri |
A fool I've been, to imagine my hardship worse than my fellows. They have known more loss than I...and yet, I will not tell them all my secrets...
"I wish I could offer something as interesting." Ethaniel mutters. "I grew up in a 'house of hospitality' as little more than a servant, but there was a time that I lived with a caravan on the Varisian plains. Riddleport is...it is a prison, is it not? No gates hold me in, but I cannot, for the life of me, depart from it."
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
The conversation and drinking lasts till you each sleepily make your way to your rooms. Some of your gear needs tending too and most likely a bath or at the very least a sponge bath is needed to clean away the sweat and/or blood from earlier. When all however is tended too and you lay down, sleep comes quickly and deeply and dreams fill your resting mind. The sleep is so deep in fact that you can hardly believe when you awaken to find the sun full in the morning sky and the morning is well underway. Larur is back on deck attending the new recruits as they continue their training. As you rise, the new wait staff ask it they might get you something to eat or drink. Larur nods his head and gives you a wink and a smile and you can tell things just got a little better around here, even if only while the staff are training up.
Larur "I will expect to see you all to your duties to as soon as your all fed and full. We need to get the word out and make ready for the fact that we are re-opening tomorrow night. Yes, I know, a day earlier than expected but things have come along nicely and I think we will be able to swing it. Don't worry, you will still have ample time to chase those critters you want for the pit or whatever else your planning but business first please. Oh and lunch is on us, we need to make sure the cooks and wait staff are up to scratch now don't we."
(It is Moonday the 3rd day of the month Neth, the season is Autumn)
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
Saul, hearing the voices coming from the waiting room and dining room, emerges from his office and stops in to see how you went last night.
"So, what's the plan today then partners? I am hoping Larur has been of some guidance. I know he has a full plate at the moment but time is money. Depending on what time you have left in the day, I need some more security staff. Larur doesn't handle that part of the job. Bojask is sticking close to me since the heist and Hans and Beyar are good strong arms but not much up top to appraise trustworthiness and we definitely need to trust anyone we hire as protection. If you can ask around and see if there are any free hands looking for work, work em over to see if they are down the line and tell them to meet here at dusk ready for a physical test. Work it out, but get it done and anyone who fancies himself a decent hand-to-hand combatant, be here tonight ready to test their mettle."
Iscarel |
"The natural order? Such things mean nothing here. If the Grog-Blossoms want to throw themselves to the wolves, more power to them." the elf says, offhandedly. "It's a big world, and even my kinsmen have more important battles to fight." he says, the dim fire dancing in his full-black eyes.
Iscarel stays silent through Marcus' tale, staring at him appraisingly. He shakes his head, shrugging. "I never would have taken you for ellesar." He looks at you in a new light, his smile warm and expression full of mirth.
He listens quietly for some time, playing lightly on his harp. He'll reveal nothing about himself unless pressed, and continue his song well after his friends retire.
Iscarel |
The elf blinks angrily at the light through his window. His boots lie kicked off beside his bed, and he seems to have made no effort to clean himself up. However he seems to have taken care arranging a long handled knife and a flask of acid on his bedside table, the knife buried deep into the wood, meticulously straight. It appears he was hoping for a night-time visitor...
The elfs grumpiness lasts into the morning, but by lunchtime he has a spring in his step and a smile about his face, a far cry from his melancholy the following morning. Steady work, clean quarters and... passable company. While his quarters in the abbey were far more comfortable there was no smell of cheap perfume and bothersome service in the morning.
Iscarel greets Saul with a tilt of his glass, and places his boots on the table as he listens to the man speak. "Trustworthiness?" he says, cutting the man off. "My dear friend, this is Riddleport!" the elf says, grinning. "What you seek, partner, aren't the trustworthy men, but the dimwitted ones. I happen to have worked with several. I know where to find good muscle in this town."
Iscarel will spend the day rounding up old contacts from someof his less-than-savoury jobs, using his knowledge: local skill, taking 10 for 16.
Ethaniel Meveri |
Ethaniel grumbles as he stretches and rises from bed. The sun is already three steps ahead of me. Can't afford to be sluggish. Can't afford to be a fool. The half-elf unsheathes his dagger and practices some thrusts.
Ethaniel is quiet during the morning, and can think of little worth saying to Larur. He nods his head at Saul's words. Seems we're recruiting an army. Can't say as that sits well with me. Then again, we might be needing it. We have targets draped on our backs, the lot of us.
"I'll be along with you, Iscarel, if you'll have me." Ethaniel finally gets out.
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
With Iscarel's local knowledge, he knows exactly where to find the exact strong dim-wits he had mentioned to Saul. Having the knowledge about Saul's rivalry certainly helped weed out those too daft to hold grudges and maintain allegiance, those that only cared for the coin. Still he would need to venture into the hostile grounds of Lubbertown (27) to pick what he could of the scraps of men not yet weeded out by the crime lords recruiters. He warns his companions that the shanty town lies outside the gates of both Riddleport and its laws.
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
You make your way to the north gate passing many notable establishments as you go. You are able to recognize in passing familiar faces, some who had been at the gambling gala and in turn recognize you for your part in the excitement that evening. A couple folks point you out to their companions, these are the ones you don't need worry about. We all know it's the ones who don't give themselves away as they take note of you who cause concern. Moving through the streets you get a glimpse into the various gangs and influences making themselves known to all.
In particular, you see a press gang of half orcs blockade a house. After a couple moments, a pale man opens the shutters at a second story window and begin cussing at the the group. However, the group didn't appreciate the tirade, smashed his front door in and all rushed in, leaving an utter brute of a horc to guard the door. Everyone in the streets paid very little attention to the spectacle and kept about their own business.
You pass a large establishment (23) perched on a bluff overlooking the Velashu. An inn called the River Runner looks to have seen better days as its paint peels and missing shingles pattern its room. Further along you come to the Devil's Fork, the junction into the military district which is flanked by the rocky ridgeline that guards the city's east and north sides. It is here the barracks and prison ironically named Shoreleave, are located. Immediately before you is the northern guard post an informal line constantly manned by numerous gendarmes. As you approach to pass, a man calls out as he stands up from within a group of his 'brothers' and straightens out his uniform as he moves toward your group.
"Check point, hold up there a minute.... Now, what business might you have that you need pass beyond the Fork. Only things north are Lubbertown and well, not much else but trouble. And so, your business?"
You throw a glance to the other gendarmes who are mostly disinterested in your arrival and continue on with what ever it was they were discussing.
Ascaria de Vintre |
Ascaria will join the group too this time. No point in letting you guys have all the fun. :-)
0: Detect Magic, Guidance, Message
1: Charm Person, Cure Light Wounds
Ascaria pushes to the front of the group, giving the gendarme an innocent smile.
"Well met, officer. Thank you very much for the warning. As it happens we are in need of some cheap muscle for guard work. Lubbertown may not be the most reputed district. But chances are that the kind of people we are looking for is not to be found in Leeward."
Diplomacy:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Sense motive (Does he mean to stop us or is this a routine questioning?): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
The man is at first taken aback by the fact the female of the group steps forward, expecting most likely one of the men to take the lead. However, the aging guard has much experience with the 'sweet and innocent' girls of Riddleport. He smiles tellingly as the young girls words spill forth.
"Is what the girl says, correct?" He looks past Ascaria at the rest of the group studying your faces. "Might I ask then who has sent you upon the task for you are mostly unknown to me, mostly."
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
Arrgghh! Why is it that talking our way out of a situation always backfires on us? :-) Next time I shall think more carefully...
I would hazard a guess that it's because all your first impressions have been shite. Skill checks included. That being said, it is only a matter of time before the dice roll in your favor.
Ascaria de Vintre |
Ascaria rolls her eyes. She has seen this type a lot in Riddleport. People trying to take advantage of the weak and helpless, always trying to quench some coin from whatever situation. Even her granny had been mugged at times. But the old woman had taught Ascaria that backing down meant to give up.
"Now listen good man. First of all, be careful who you call 'girl'. I will be 'Miss de Vintre' for you. Second, don't doubt my statements in front of my companions here. Third, have a good look at us and think if you want to spoil a beautiful morning by biting off more than you can chew here." She gestures at Marcus, for once relieved that he seems to be born with that menacing look.
"So may we go on or do you insist in holding up innocent 'girls'?"
By now Ascaria has talked herself into a rage, nearly shouting at the poor guard. She glowers at him, hands in her hips and waits for his reply.
Intimidate: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Ascaria de Vintre |
I would hazard a guess that it's because all your first impressions have been s$#&e. Skill checks included.
I know. It's not your fault at all. That's the game. :-) However, I hope that the last check managed to get us through this.
On a sidenote, it's good to be rolling dice again. Instead of just sitting on the sidelines.DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
The officer, having apparently underestimated the 'girl' is quickly snapped back into the pointed stare of the young woman. As she affirms her standing, one could imagine the guard remembering a time when he was scolded by his mother, his eyes temporarily distant, then snapping back to the moment. The other guards look over to see what was going on but due to the restraint exercised by the tempered raging woman and therefore unable to hear the threat, they remain seated, content to let the senior guard handle the situation.
"Begging your pardon then Miss de Vintre, but you must understand that we can't abide smiles and sweet talk. I much prefer the straight talk that you just demonstrated aptly. Now about your business, I'll let this slide this one time but there's alot more to Lubbertown than you think. It's organized and picked at by the bosses in the city, need I say more. If you happen by again, expect to pay a toll. Aswell, if we meet again and I'm in uniform, we shall pay each other the respect due or a friendly warning, I simply can't bite of enough when it comes to toughs."
"Oh, by the way, tell the sentries at the gate that Carter Yates gave you leave."
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
You near the northern gate and get a clear view of Maskyr's Island, and upon it, the Overlord's Citadel among many other buildings. Designed as a strong hold to weather any turmoil that may rise within the city. The many docks of the island appear heavily guarded by city gendarmes. You pass through the gate with the leave granted you by senior guard Carter, and look to Iscarel who said this was the place.
Tippy Fullbottle |
Tippy, has fingers twitching over the dagger hilts in his sleeves during the entire exchange with the guard, finally relaxes as the group passes through. One look about the place they're in now, however, and he draws one of the daggers at his hip, holding the weapon tightly, and hiding it under his arm.
Ethaniel Meveri |
Bastard gendarmes. Given pay and some arms and they become 'law.' A good thing we have the girl, and that her tongue is sharp, else we might be in irons. Or dead. Ethaniel mutters under his breath as they pass by the guards. After a moment, he manages a polite nod at Ascaria, paying little mind to the fact that her back is to him.
The half-elf turns in a circle as he walks, doing his best to survey the group's surroundings.
Perception - 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
Iscarel |
"Here she is." says the elf, grimacing and covering his mouth with his sleeve and cocks his thumb at the colourful sign. "The Unkempt Virgin. Don't mind the smell, it's only stale vomit." he says, stepping through the door.
Perception (aid another) 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
The Unkempt Virgin certainly leaves alot to be desired in every aspect of a bar and dining hall but the place was still full of patrons and business was good by these standards. You move through the isles between the rickety tables and after a moment are able to occupy a table, offering some privacy from the main bar area.
A scrawny teenage kid approaches with an utterly filthy apron on, carrying a makeshift tray and asks, "What can i getcha folks!
Ascaria de Vintre |
Eager to get rid of the waiter, Ascaria takes the initiative. "Ale for me and my companions will be fine." As the kid hurries off, she gives the others an apologetic smile. "Not that it really matters. The wine would probably taste just the same..."
She quickly glances over the crowd, scanning for possible targets and then turns to Isacrel. "Ok, any suggestion where we might start?"
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
The boy nods. "Very good maam. Won't be a tick."
The boy returns in a moment with five well worn mugs filled with a cloudy thick ale. "Best ale outside the gates, two silver thanks."
Marcus Whiteshae |
Marcus, noting the boys discomfort keeps his voice low after the child leavs.
That kid was sweating about something. Keep your blades ready amd dont't drink the ale.
He leans back in his chair, arms wide as if relaxing but was really just getting his arms in a position to throw the dagger concealed in the spring loaded wrist sheath on his arm
Tippy Fullbottle |
"Probably just worried we wouldn't tip him if we drank the stuff, not that I was planning on it. You lot do your thing. I'm going to disappear into the crowd, just in case we need unexpected back-up."
Tippy slips down off his chair, ducks under a table, and disappears.
Stealth: 1d20 + 12 - 1 ⇒ (9) + 12 - 1 = 20
Ethaniel Meveri |
Ethaniel hands a pair of silver pieces to the boy, giving him a hard, direct stare.
After the youth has gone, Ethaniel extends a finger and pushes his mug several inches away from him. "Bah. I didn't really want a drink anyway. I was simply trying to 'fit in.' Plainly, we do not."
Iscarel |
"Don't drink the ale. Grab a booth and bring anyone that looks dim-witted." he says to his companions. "Try to size them up, first. Be sure they won't double cross us."
Iscarel |
Iscarel zeroes in on his mark. "How's work, Andrezi?" he says, approaching a heavyset Varisian man. "I hear Splitface's purse strings are drawing tighter. Let me buy you a drink. Me and my business partners may just have something for you."
Diplomacy check. Taking ten for 16
Sense Motive check 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17
Ethaniel Meveri |
Ethaniel watches Iscarel at work. Impressive. He has a gifted tongue, that one.
The half-elf turns his eyes down to the surface of the table and listens intently to the conversations around him. The man that blurts out the facts of his life in this place is none too bright, and perhaps, a good place to start. Now who among these might be sharing a loud story?
Perception - 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
Tippy slips away after pushing his mug away and seems to meld into the crowd, the ever watchful eyes looking out for his companions. Iscarel spots someone he must know at the bar and immediately heads in his direction. Ethaniel focuses intently on the task but is momentarily sidetracked and picks up his mug and sniffs the contents, his eyes flashing in recognition of something. Afterward, his focus returns and quickly comes up with a few suggestions for anyone keen to assist.
Tippy Fullbottle |
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
Ascaria de Vintre |
Ascaria cocks an eyebrow as Ethaniel points out the heavy-set man on one of the other tables. Then she takes a deep breath and mutters under her breath "This going to be even better than I had imagined...".
With that she stands up and casually walks over to the guy. Before she reaches him she tries to size him up to get a hint about how she could approach him.
Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
DM_Waife_the_BiPolar |
@Ascaria
He reckons he is a ladies man, the way he holds himself. Unfortunately, he's as ugly as a dogs backside and has tried to over compensate for the fact with his physique, well at least his upper torso. You get the sense that you could crumble the man's self image right and quick but perhaps just letting him know if he didn't strut around like a top cock, he might get more real female attention, would be the best approach.
Ethaniel Meveri |
Ethaniel does try to hide his interest in Ascaria's interaction with the large man, but he keeps his attention on the two of them, and his hand near the handle of his whip.
Bluff - 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (1) + 0 = 1
Ethaniel all but stares at the man, sizing him up and planning the best approach if things go awry. Keep civil. Keep still. Keep your hands off her, or you'll be spilled on the floor with steel to your neck.
Marcus Whiteshae |
Marcus, keeping his voice low, "See there, no don't look directly, that's a woman. Damned if she ain't built like a man though. Might be worth speaking to. You wanna try? Or can't you take your eyes off Ascaria for a bit
Marcus's tone conveys the joke, but Ethaniel is really doing a poor job of appearing disinterested.
Honestly man, you look like a jealous lover
Ethaniel Meveri |
"Hrrm? What? Ethaniel turns to Marcus. "I'm just...prepared for trouble. I...I..."
The half-elf breaks from his stammer and attempts a discreet look at the woman Marcus has pointed out.
Bluff - 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5
Perception - 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31
"I'll have a talk at that woman if you'll take over watch on Ascaria. I think she can handle herself, but I won't see her hurt on account of my request."