Tanith nods in agreement with Carina's sentiment. "Should we meet with her at her place or do you plan to have her come here?"
Eben nods in agreement with Carina. "Doppelgangers will get you good and paranoid," he confirms. "This is the first time I've met you, actually, on that subject..."
Eligos glances at Eben curiously. "Oh? Well, I hope that particular misunderstanding didn't cost any...erm, right."
He turns back to Tanith as he offers his hand to Eben to shake. Neither. She'll find you. She doesn't have a home and doesn't like to deal with appointments. I'll contact her as soon as possible—the Champion's Games signups are in just a few days, after all. I suggest you complete any minor agendas you have now—shopping, or whatever it is adventurers do in their spare time."
"I don't think anyone will complain about a day or two of rest", Tanith answers with a shrug.
"On an unrelated note, have you heard of a halfling named Yenaver Graveltoes or a 'Tigri'. I'm looking for someone to run a new Kord shrine in the Muddle and their names came up."
"I'm afraid I don't keep up-to-date with religious business. Isn't Graveltoes already managing a healthy shrine?"
"He is. I was just curious if you'd heard anything about him. After Forwell I'm trying to be careful about who ends up in the Muddle preaching."
Astraden's been getting a quizzical look that only grows as Eligos explains who the group's contact will be. As she stands to leave, she turns back towards the man. "It seems everyone else remembers but . . . could you remind me, who is Manzorian? Not a god you follow, right? Never heard of one called that . . ."
"A shrewd practice. Well, are there any more questions? I'll be looking into Ilthane, and the Age of Worms, very closely over the next few weeks. There are yet a few sources I haven't consulted. After the Games, return here and I will almost assuredly have more for you. Perhaps I can learn a few of the so-called signs of the upcoming apocalypse, and see how close we really are."
Astraden's been getting a quizzical look that only grows as Eligos explains who the group's contact will be. As she stands to leave, she turns back towards the man. "It seems everyone else remembers but . . . could you remind me, who is Manzorian? Not a god you follow, right? Never heard of one called that . . ."
"Manzorian is an archmage." Eligos's eyes shift. "A very powerful, very noble archmage. Allustan and I both trained under him once, but...well, Allustan and he do not speak anymore."
Carina nods in agreement. "I've heard of him--he's in charge of Tenser's old home, isn't he? Magepoint? He's been doing a good job keeping order, from what I've heard."
"Huh. I see. One more thing . . . is there any chance I could drop by here later and use your library, before the games start? I need to know as much as I can about this Wormgod and whatever cults Raknian may be affiliated with."
Once the group departs from Eligos', Astraden turns to her friends. "Anyone wanna go see a play or something?"
Carina nods. "What sort of play did you have in mind?"
"So... just out of curiosity, now that none of us are eating... what did you mean when you said you ate a sentient being alive? Just having come from dealing with a mind flayer, that's a statement that can cause some alarm..."
"Uh, no clue. It'd be nice to visit the Blueberry Theater again, though."
"Huh. I see. One more thing . . . is there any chance I could drop by here later and use your library, before the games start? I need to know as much as I can about this Wormgod and whatever cults Raknian may be affiliated with."
Once the group departs from Eligos', Astraden turns to her friends. "Anyone wanna go see a play or something?"
"I may not be around, but Pollard will see to your needs." Eligos inclines his head.
"So... just out of curiosity, now that none of us are eating... what did you mean when you said you ate a sentient being alive? Just having come from dealing with a mind flayer, that's a statement that can cause some alarm..."
"The troll gang I met with had a somewhat tasteless ceremony requiring the guest to eat a piece of the shaman. He regenerates injuries, of course, so it doesn't hurt him." Eligos grimaces. "Personally, I think they just made it up so they could see the look on my face."
Tanith tries really hard to not hear what Eligos just described.
"Yeah, let's go see a show. I'd say we deserve it. Thanks for the information Eligos."
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The play is entertaining, though somewhat gauche, telling the story of a romance between an orc and a halfling. It turns out to be about as tasteless as the poster makes it look, but the gnome playing the kobold antagonist is clearly very good and adds a touch of self-awareness to the otherwise amateur production. The experience is somewhat colored halfway through as a kobold in the audience stands up and starts shouting some nonsense about harmful stereotypes, but he is swiftly booted from the building and the play continues without any trouble.
Over the next few days, the group largely goes its separate ways.
Tanith seeks out Mr. Wake, seeking to contract his construction company for a very important job. Wake skeptically gives him a number, and when the burly Kordian agrees, he's initially taken aback. "Are you a thief, or an adventurer, or something?"
Nonetheless, he's not one to push away paying customers, and the contract is eventually completed (Tanith's efforts are stymied slightly when it's pointed out to him he has to buy the lots first, but it turns out that burnt rubble doesn't cost too much, anyways).
And so in roughly ninety days' time, Tanith is assured that a new shrine to the Brawler will be completed for the Midnight's Muddle. Now he just needs an actual priest to fill it.
Eben spends some time performing in the Crooked House. He is, of course, a sensation. Tarquin eagerly offers to waive Eben's room and board for the few days, as Eben's talent has begun to attract new visitors to the inn eager to view his performance. He notices a few talent scouts from some of the more prestigious theaterhouses in the city showing up towards the third day.
Later, he drops by the Screaming Blade and meets up with Lowri again. Unfortunately, she's dreadfully swamped with work, so the 'dinner' he proposes turns out to be across the street at a shop called "Fried Everything" owned by a dreadfully obese goblin with an uncanny resemblance to Balabar Smenk.
If Eben accepts anyways, dinner is enjoyable (despite the dangerously unhealthy food), as Lowri enjoys hearing whatever stories he can share of recent or distant exploits. For her part, she explains her life in the Free City. Apparently, she was adopted by a half-orc couple, and was raised from an early age with a healthy appreciation for honest labor. She is eager to start her own shop, and seems very interested in any 'practical' tips Eben has about weapons and armor 'in the field' that she could apply to her work.
If Eben turns down the date, he spends his night sad and alone.
Later, Eben meets with Rodrigo and they head to Yalexex to catch up on the paintings.
Carina spends her days hard at work deciphering the drow's formulae. The book, penned in Elven, is peppered with little remarks and quips about his old boss, along with a rare few (mostly crossed out) about his new.
Dear Diary, Hello, Myrianaas is going to get us all killed now, goodbye.
This trip to the surface is gonna be a disaster. Seriously, I cannot believe how screwed we are. Blot out the sun? What planet does she live on? Is it nice there? Are the women there pretty?
Got a new boss. Master is basically perfect. I just wish he would kill Myrianaas already. Or give her to me—I have some experiments and Master won't let me tinker with his food (of course not, because he's a genius and knows better than to give up food supplies to worthless old me). But she's such a waste of space. Inevitably, she'll turn on him, and I'm not sure I'll be able to help. Not that he needs my help.
That man came by again today. I don't trust him. Neither does Master, I'll bet. But I guess we have to go out and kill some paladins now. At least it's a change of pace from these sewers.
God, I forgot how much fun killing paladins is! We've got these weird scrolls. Master doesn't want me to look at them. They're for the man, Rarknin or something?
Almost back home now. Starting to wonder...why am I doing this, again? Bet these scrolls would be worth a lot. Not looking in them, but very tempted. I'd just cut and run, but Zyrxog had me leave some of my stuff behind. Maybe I'll just take it and go.
Master. Is. The. F~$%ing. Shit. <3
Another job. Shifters' problem. Master doesn't want me to have to go to any trouble!
Shifters are dead. Master doesn't seem very happy with Rarknarg. Called it. I and a couple others are being moved out to guard the entrance. Can't believe I'm being saddled with these two cretins—the male's just a pretty face with a pointy stick, and the female...well, I haven't spoken to the female, but she must have pissed off some priestess pretty bad if she's serving under me. Anyways, let's get this over with. They'll be here soon, no doubt. Let's see them try to take down Elsaroth the Unvanquishable Unkillable!
Farrukh makes just a few more purchases. He notices that Elmak, the dwarf craftsman who the party tends to go to with their more specific purchases and sales, gives him a funny look as he gets out the items.
The dwarf seems heavily irritated about something, but he displays his usual terseness if probed.
Rodrigo visits some priests of Zilchus, god of prestige, money, business and power. They offer to guide him in making an investment. Considering Rodrigo's slight lack of general sense, this may be wise.
Later on, Rodrigo and Eben meet up and head to Yalexex's messy abode. He frenetically works on two paintings at once, looking between Rodrigo and Eben with barely any hesitation. The portraits are beginning to take shape, and they look extremely good even to untrained eyes. Nonetheless, he looks enraged with his work. "More time, I need more time," he mumbles.
As they visit, Rodrigo and Eben notice that his other paintings are kept hidden under a ratty blanket in the corner. They're all done of famous citizens in the Free City, including one of a young, handsome warrior titled "Loris Raknian", one of the late Varda, and an untitled one of a strange, cackling archmage. Any one of these portraits could easily fetch as much as 100 gp from collectors (Astraden, if consulted, can verify these numbers).
But by the third day he is done. Eben and Rodrigo look upon the portraits, clearly masterpieces. Yalexes stands beside them, silent.
Then he tries to destroy both, ranting about their obviously dreadful quality. It occurs to Eben that there might be a reason he's never heard of this man in artistic circles.
Astraden, like Carina, spends most of her time being productive, crafting scrolls, purchasing components, and possibly being taken to an artist's ugly house to appraise beautiful paintings of her friends.
She also begins dropping by Eligos's house to pore over the mage's tomes. Eligos is out, but Pollard welcomes her with surprising friendliness and shows her to the immense study. He mentions at one point during the visits that his wife was reincarnated as a troglodyte "some years ago", so he sympathizes to some degree. He's impressed at how Astraden handles it. They're still happily married, he clarifies, not wanting to give the wrong impression. His wife is currently out on business.
He keeps her supplied with whatever she requests—books, indexes, food, drink—and generally tries to ensure her studies proceed without trouble. Aside from his one expository note, he generally doesn't speak unless directly questioned.
Towards the end of the third day, the party returns to the Crooked House and notices a strange patron seated in the corner.
This itself isn't too remarkable. Eben's performances have been drawing a decent number of late, after all. But when the woman looks up at them and gives a slow nod, patting a seat beside her, it's clear something is up.
She leans close as they approach. "'Ey. I hear you're lookin' for a middler?" Her voice is rough, as is her appearance, but there's a strange, vibrant undercurrent to her words that's hard to place. She gives a slight smile. "Name's Celeste. Elly told me your lot wanted to play some games."
Farrukh mentally snorts.
Pfff. Elly.
Outwardly, he responds:
"There's not much I like more than a good game. Especially the more...violent ones."
"And ones involving dice. The dice like me."
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In spite of the fact that he more or less performs on autopilot and doesn't hand in anywhere near the best performances of his life, the crowd seems to eat it up. Maybe it's the spiffy new outfit he wears for the shows. (Originally discovering said outfit being delivered- and the invoice- sent Eben into a rage against stupid doppelgangers who go and spend other people's money on major purchases. But after laying them out on the bed, staring at them for a bit, then trying them on piece by piece while glancing appraisingly in a mirror, Eben decides that maybe Ixiaxian wasn't such a bad guy after all.)
Dinner with Lowri might not be as fancy as he'd planned, but accustomed as he is to street meat skewers on days when he doesn't have time to grab a real meal, Eben's stomach is fine with the copious amounts of grease and crispy batter the two of them consume. And he's as charming as he ever is.
And at Yalexex's loft: "No, really, I find growth as an artist only happens when you let your work loose in the world and absorb what others have to say!" Eben says desperately as the insane artist looms over his portrait with a vial of acid. Once upon the time, he would have jumped on board immediately at the possibility of a scam with a 400+ gold orb profit margin, but these days... he doesn't have the heart to bilk the artist out either of these two masterpieces. It seems only right that he get the credit for the exceptional work he'd done. Plus, from a purely vain point of view, that portrait of Eben makes him look stunning, and he wants to make sure it winds up on the walls of someone properly appreciative...
"And I really, really mean it!" he says as the acid vial tips ever closer to the canvas, infusing his words with magic.
She leans close as they approach. "'Ey. I hear you're lookin' for a middler?" Her voice is rough, as is her appearance, but there's a strange, vibrant undercurrent to her words that's hard to place. She gives a slight smile. "Name's Celeste. Elly told me your lot wanted to play some games."
Eben takes a proffered seat. "'Want to' is an exaggeration, but apparently 'need to' is the operative phrase here."
Huffing in frustration as he struggles to make sense of the sheaf of legal paperwork he’d been handed when he secured the property for the new shrine, Tanith pauses when he notices the newcomer.
”Pleasure to meet you”, he offers in greeting as he gives up finding someplace to neatly stack his burden and instead dumps it inside his pack. ”What else has good Eligos told you about us?”
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"Eligos told me a fair piece. Told me you've been lookin' into some sort of outbreak—some sort of medical team, I s'pose?" She shrugs. "Sounds right dull to one such's me, but I s'pose it pays the bills. Though maybe not so well if you're dabblin' in gladiating. Eligos tells me you're damn good in a fight, though, an' that's all that matters here."
"Anyways, none o' my beeswax. I've found your sponsor. Ekaym!" Her voice raises to a shout as she calls over a handsome but rather short fellow in his late thirties. He wears a fine green robe, polished knee-high boots, and carries a lute. Up until now, he'd been performing up on the stage (casually, but decently), but he slings the lute over his shoulder when Celeste calls him. "Everyone, this here's Ekaym Smallcask."
The man rushes over and bows low. "A thousand and one apologies, my good fellows. Got to stay in practice, you know! I've heard one too many stories about bards left out in the wilderness getting jumped by ogres, and wouldn't-you-know-it, just when they need that lute the most, they realize it's been out of tune all along!" He laughs, clapping the nearest party member, Carina, on the shoulder. "It truly is a pleasure to meet you all. You can call me Ekaym, or Kaymee, if you prefer. Never much cared for that name. Was always being called "Ewent" back in school. Get it? Well, I didn't think it was very funny, either."
He offers his hand. His handshake is brisk, firm, and just a little sweaty. "Always wanted to manage a gladiator group. It's a great way to make lots of money—and meet lots of interesting women, of course." He winks. "I'm sure your motivations aren't far off."
Farrukh snaps to attention, noticing a small fuzzing around the edges of Celeste's form, and her godawful accent.
"You know, after recent experiences I don't think anyone would blame us for stabbing first and asking questions later, but that seems like a hassle. Mind explaining to me why you're speaking to us in disguise? Are you even the real 'Celeste' person we're supposed to meet?"
Carina flinches as Ekaym claps her on the shoulder. "Ow." She bites her lip and leans a bit closer to Tanith.
Seriously, why is it that every other guy I meet promptly starts flirting with me? I'm not THAT attractive... am I?
When Farrukh speaks up, calling 'Celeste' out on being in disguise (wait, she's in disguise?), the undine's hand reflexively inches toward her pistol before she stops herself. For heaven's sake, she wouldn't be crazy enough to try anything funny in the middle of a crowded tavern.
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Eben blinks one, then twice, as this... thing, this parody of the performing minstrel, comes bobbing down off the stage. Still, the sight of someone he's not immediately inclined to like and who gives every indication of having more gold than common sense brings some of his old instincts to fore and he suppresses his urge to hit the guy over the head with his own lute. "Oh, we're all about the prestige and the glory, the money is... pff!" he makes a dismissive gesture. "But anything we can do to get you a return on any potential investment..." He pauses as Farrukh once again makes a bit more blunt a pronouncement than Eben would consider prudent. You could have just tipped us off quietly, Farrukh...
Carina flinches as Ekaym claps her on the shoulder. "Ow." She bites her lip and leans a bit closer to Tanith.
Seriously, why is it that every other guy I meet promptly starts flirting with me? I'm not THAT attractive... am I?
"Oh, dreadfully sorry. Here, let me try that on someone else." Ekaym lifts his hand and claps it on the shoulder of the next-closest party member, Astraden.
He stiffens as Celeste is called out.
Celeste, for her part, seems unfazed. She slowly gets to her feet. "I think we'd better continue this chat in one of your bedrooms, then, if you'll pardon my forwardness. Is that acceptable to you?"
The chagrin Eben feels in Farrukh having been the one to see through a- in retrospect- pretty obvious ploy is tempered when he notices the quick glance between Ekaym and Celeste. Huh, he's in on whatever she's playing, maybe he's not the simple mark I thought at first... which means, ugh, I got conned by both of them? Eben glances around at the others and rises to his feet. "That's fine, as long as you don't object to the crowd of all of us and yourselves in one room." Eben lightly stresses the fact that under no circumstances will the party be splitting its numbers during this meeting.
"Of course not. Otherwise I'd have to explain everything six different times. No thanks."
Well, that just confirms it.
Farrukh studies the Bard as well, and stays on his guard throughout the rest of the conversation.
"Sure. As long as you don't mind enclosed spaces."
Tanith watches Ekaym like a hawk after puts his hands on Carina.
"Right. Someplace more private", the big man says tersely. "Our rooms are this way."
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Astraden raises an eyebrow at Pollard and remarks on how gracefully the elf is aging. Then, she returns to her studies.
By the 22nd, Eligos' library is a mess. The cleric hasn't yet dropped food on a book, but she's accidentally stepped on several. Books lie strewn on the floor and piled high on the desk, and the bookshelves are looking unusually bare. Easily bored, Astraden marks her place in a book with other books, and only rarely remembers to actually go back and finish skimming. Her piles have no reasonable organization - Flan-Elven dictionaries stack on top of a book of ice cream recipes, while a boo on the history of Kord's worship in Greyhawk is marked to a page about Varda's successor with a booklet of poems written entirely in Auran (which Astraden has yet to decipher). There are, at least, several piles solely concerning evil cults, and in her haphazard research Astraden's learned a lot more about undead. Somehow, though, she feels she'll need a practical lesson to cement the learning.
Over the intermission, Astraden partakes gratefully of Eligos' hospitality, eating at most one meal a day back at the Crooked House.
"Sure, yeah, just come on in my room. Make yourself at home," Astraden remarks amicably to the strange bard and warrior. Once the door is closed, she casts a spell to see spells and counts the auras on the two.
No auras on Ekaym.
Both have numerous magic items, including Ekaym's armor, his sword, and his lute (which all radiate Faint or Moderate auras). Celeste's items primarily radiate Faint or Moderate auras, save for one Strong aura on the cutlass at her side. There is also a distinct, Faint aura on the cutlass.
The group files into Astraden's room. Once inside, Celeste closes the door and locks it. She stares hard at Farrukh. "I don't blame you for being paranoid, but you might try being a bit subtler. I can't afford to have a bunch of cocky adventurers blowing my cover right now. Believe it or not—and I can understand the confusion—not everything bizarre happening around you is necessarily about you."
Her form shimmers. With a brilliant, near-blinding flash, the image of Celeste the rough-and-ready rogue vanishes. In its place stands a tall elfin woman, eyes radiating bright multicolored flames, the cutlass at her side having turned into a long, incandescent greatsword wreathed in blue light.
Ekaym shields his eyes as the glamor is lifted.
"I don't really DO subtle." Farrukh says as he blinks spots out of his eyes.
"And judging by that little light show, neither do YOU."
Eben blinks in the dazzling light. "Okay, that wasn't what I expected..." He shakes his head and rubs at his eyelids for a moment. "Yeah, we're trying to teach him the art of subtlety, but... it's kind of like teaching a man with no legs to dance."
"Okay, touche." Celeste gives a grudging smile. "Anyways, just try to play it quiet next time. I'm in this inn because Eligos is a friend and I owe Ekaym a favor, but my main job right now is tracking down a smuggling network. Word is they might be connected to a major band of slavers down south, but sadly, one of my biggest leads recently...dried up.
"Point is, this current identity's rep is pretty important to my mission."
Astraden is beginning to sit on the edge of her tub when the rogue transforms, and nearly falls backwards into it. Fortunately, she regains her balance, and looks up at the strange elf for a moment to digest the recent conversation. "Wait, how is this a favor for Ekaym? Is he going to bet on us?"
Carina shields her eyes as Celeste transforms, blinking and staring in disbelief at the lady's new form.
"Whoa..." She gasps. "Um... who--er, may I ask what you are?"
"Like I said, I'm looking to manage a team," Ekaym says, smiling. "Preferably one that will win. Celeste here tends to know her stuff when it comes to gladiators."
Celeste looks at Carina. "I'm an eladrin. A ghaele, to be specific. Hm...Think of me as an angel, except a good deal less boring and preachy."
"So how does this all work?" Tanith asks. "Auric was last year's champ but now I'm hearing this is a team competition."
"Well, Celeste only just met us. So really, it'd be Eligos who tends to know his stuff. You know Eligos?" Astraden asks the long-haired bard.
"Anyway, um, what are the specifics then? Do we have to register and sign away our lives and so forth?"
Valeros
"So how does this all work?" Tanith asks. "Auric was last year's champ but now I'm hearing this is a team competition."
"Well, Auric fights with his friend, Khellek." Ekaym grimaces. "They're a mighty team. I heard they've fallen on hard times lately—something about casting aside all their money on some dead-end dungeon, I believe—but they're excellent in a fight. Why, I heard they exterminated a whole nest of trolls just on their way back to the City! They've won the last two Games and are the bookies' favorites for this year."
"Well, Celeste only just met us. So really, it'd be Eligos who tends to know his stuff. You know Eligos?" Astraden asks the long-haired bard.
"Anyway, um, what are the specifics then? Do we have to register and sign away our lives and so forth?"
"I've met Eligos. A wonderfully shrewd man, and Celeste trusts his judgement, so that's quite good enough for me.
"Anyways, I'll explain the competition's rules to you all over dinner." He smiles. "Then we can agree on a rate. Once a deal is set, I can sign your names to my gladiator license and we shall be all but ready to go! Is that acceptable to you all? It's rather cramped in here."
Tanith is still plenty confused after Ekaym's explanation but he nods in agreement. "We'll talk more at dinner then."
"Gladiator license? They really do put a whole lot of red tape around what is essentially just 'you and him fight for our amusement'"
Why, I heard they exterminated a whole nest of trolls just on their way back to the City!
Eben' eyebrow doesn't so much rise as his whole eyeball twitches in a somewhat painful fashion. "An... angel. Sort of. You're saying. Is heaven really so interested in our doings?" His eyeball lowers, though looking still strained. "I mean, okay, apocalypses supposedly on the horizon and all that, but we just wanted to sneak into the fight because Raknian put a hit out on us not so long ago!"