Erick Bonestihl |
Erick checks his powder horn, ensuring the seal is still there, and removes a glove and reaches into his long coat to check the pistol, ensuring it's still protected and dry to the touch. His broad brimmed leather hat keeps most of the rain off him, and the heavy oiled long coat makes the rest sluice off as well.
He peers into the shadows, watching for anyone approaching the ship he took hire on, having no intention of letting someone stow away or filch before his contract is up. No need to lose his contract over something happening so near the end of it.
GM Arkwright |
Well; let's get this going.
It is a dark and stormy night in the Chelish port of Ostenso. Ships rise and fall as black waves wash beneath them, lightning silhouettes the imposing hellknight citadel from its position overseeing the harbor, and the very air feels charged with energy and possibility.
As directed by people and messages, one by one you make your way to the Grinning Demon tavern. The bar is busy; off-duty Chelish sailors swarm the dartboard and tables to the far side of the room. A woman with blonde hair slowly graying wipes a wet rag over the bar as she deftly pours a pint with her other hand.
You remember your instructions to make your way across the bar to the back room without any curious Chelish soldiers remembering you; what do you do?
You've all arrived separately at different times.
Telsyn Setiva |
The elf casually walks to the door of the back room. He sneaks a peek around to make sure no Chelish soldiers or snitchy types are watching him.
percep: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
He tries the door. If it opens easily, he slips inside.
Erick Bonestihl |
As the bell tolls, he hands off his guard duty to the next shift, and he makes his way off the boat, stopping to grab his pack.
The guy who'd approached him about another contract had told him to go a bar, and try not to be noticeable. He looks down at his armor, weapons, and pack and snorts in derision.
Making his way to the bar, he steps in, and like everyone else, shakes the water off. Looking around from under the brim of his hat, he heads first to the jakes, and spends a few minutes relieving himself, combing his hair, and then washing his hands in the rain coming down outside the window.
When done, he comes out of the jakes, walks 3 feet to the left, and then enters the back door without a word.
Erick Bonestihl |
Bluff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
GM Arkwright |
Telsyn spies a quiet moment, and crosses the room. Erick's visit gets him close enough the door to enter unnoticed.
Clyde doesn't bother, and his heavy tramps provoke a few curious glances as he crosses. Henry attempts to cross discretely, but fails and his meekness earns some raucous calls for him to fetch soldiers another round. A few gazes follow him as he crosses the room.
The back room is oak-panelled with a few booths and a large central table; in the furthest booth, a brown-haired male halfling works his way through a small meal of steak and potatoes. A small scrap of paper in his front pocket ready for displaying marks him as a free halfling concerned about staying that way. He nods to each of you in turn, but doesn't speak until the last person enters.
He rests his fork and blade against his plate, and looks up at each of you in turn. "Evening. My name's Abrosh, third seneschal to King Thornfiddle. And if you're here, that means you've got the interest and talent to become what I am; a tiller of the Bellflower Network." He takes a sip from his cup. "Before I say more… tell each other who you are, if you don't already know."
Erick Bonestihl |
"Bonestihl. Erick Bonestihl. I'm a troubleshooter and bodyguard." He pushes his hat up, a weathered face looks hard, but not completely unyielding. Armor gleams under his overcoat.
Bone-steel is how the last name is pronounced
GM Arkwright |
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"Hmph. Chatty bunch, aren't you." He goes for a swig of ale.
"Right. For those of you contacted by our more bloody 'mysterious' members, I'll explain a bit more about what I am, what I work for. The Network is secret; it'd be officially outlawed by Cheliax if they knew enough to name us. Our task is to end slavery, wherever we find it; in practice, that means making as sizable a chunk in Cheliax's halfling slave workforce as possible. Bellflowers find slaves who want to be freed, spirit them across Cheliax and then over the border to safety; Andoran, usually. We've got codes for 'slaves' and 'Bellflowers' and the like for talking in public or if we might be overheard, I'll fill you in later if you want in. We're pretty compartmentalized; you can't talk if you know little. As a tiller I've escorted slaves through dark forests, I've stolen rations to outfit a safe house, I've bribed guards to get the right gate open at the right time. For each run, I do some and others do the rest. I know a few, but only our leader, the farmer, knows all. You'll be rewarded too, for joining. For hard work done well. Gold, and usually freedmen bring trinkets from their masters to donate. Most of you should also know of the big buzz in these parts- the Empress' Feast of enslavement."" Abrosh tosses a familiar poster onto the table "which'll be held out on the eastern plains in a few months. We can't pass up that opportunity, so there'll be operations going on all through then, there and leading up to it. You'll be involved in that, if you do your jobs well."
"Any questions?"
Erick Bonestihl |
Erick snorts. "Bait.. I was thinking the same thing, but not in the way you mean." He nods at the person. "My question is, how do we know this is legit? Seems to me, in my paranoid delusions, that it would make things much easier on a Cheliax agent to foment his own secret organizations to bust. Find some pawns who are gullible, feed them plans for an attack against the Empire, then swoop in and be the hero by arresting the 'terrorists' just in time for the queen's celebration. A nice public execution of enemies of the state, and a reward and career boost, all without having to go out and find actual active criminals and terrorists..." He eyes the man, to see if the barb hit home or not.
Works for the FBI, figured it would work even better with a regime that doesn't really care about facts and just appearances.
Erick Bonestihl |
Erick can be very diplomatic when it counts. He can also be very blunt and open when it calls for it. Given this is an execution offense type thing, it seems like Blunt would be the best approach, make sure everyone has their cards on the table.
GM Arkwright |
Abrosh shakes his head. "No. The network is too large, too compartmentalized, and has freed too many, from what I've seen. It won't happen." He gives a half-smile. "Unless of course the evil group running all this is insanely powerful. In which case, it won't make a difference whether you join in or not."
Erick Bonestihl |
Erick chuckles. "In other words, if it's a trap, it's already sprung."
GM Arkwright |
"Good. Here, remember this." Abrosh pours a little sand on the table, and quickly sketches out a crude drawing of a bellflower for you to see. "Learn to draw this to identify yourselves."
"To start you out… and for a bit of a test… I've a job for you."
"A few hours ago, the Empress' Brow pulled into port. We arranged for it to bring a cargo of slaves from Westcrown; a halfing family named Allegard, and a few others. Eleven in total. They're to be sold in the market tomorrow; they've currently being held in Vistmas Brothers warehouse. I need you to get them out of there, and take them to the stables here. I'll take it from there. I'm not fussed how you get them out; any questions?"
Erick Bonestihl |
"You want it done quietly, or noisily?"
Telsyn Setiva |
We'll get close, then Telsyn will cast Invis on Henry, since he's smaller. Henry will have 3 minutes to skulk about and see where the guards are at and report back. Telsyn will try to take them out with Color Spray without killing them, if he can. Everybody cool with that?
Erick Bonestihl |
Works for Erick. He's better at noisy.
Erick snorts. "I'll guard the rear then. I'm no good at quiet, I'm good at noisy." He jiggles the handle on his sword, which makes a chiming sound as the heavy steel rings in it's blade ching against each other.
Erick Bonestihl |
Erick, ducked back under the overhang of a building to stay out of the rain, pats his coat, where a bulge can be seen. "Noisy I can do."
GM Arkwright |
Abrosh nods, and raises his mug. "Fair luck."
The group of would-be Bellflowers steps out into the night. Rain pours down turning tents and jackets sodden, keeping the worst of the city indoors as the slightly less worst of the city patrol its streets in their guard uniform jerkins and sabers.
Eventually, the group finds itself outside of the Vistmas Brothers warehouse; a squat wooden building with a high roof and two main doors- a side door, and a freight door.
Henry can't find an entrance that won't require him to open a door.