The dwarf spends the entire trip safely in the hold.
"No. We shouldn't split our strength. That's just asking for trouble," Mori cautions.
Fair enough. Let's go, before we waste to much time.
They begin briskly walking in that direction.
Helme tries to find the cat just to see what the cat that they aren't supposed to mess with looks like.
"It might have been comfortable for me. Not for the rest of you. I'm a restless sleeper." Helme smiles at Cypher, and takes a seat at the table. "Anyone have cards?"
When they arrive she'll follow the lead of the others not caring which portion of the mission they complete first. It all sounds important, but she agrees Cypher makes a good point about the Oyster.
Helme decides to look for the mentioned feline. This task doesn't prove to be hard and she spots the furry critter soon afterwards, on the hunt for rodents. The ship's cat doesn't seem to be extraordinary in any way. Dark-gray fur mottled with black spots and stripes, and constantly running around looking for food. As you approach it, it reluctantly closes in until it smells your food ratios and starts rubbing itself against your shins, purring, and looking up every now and then.
The Overflowing Oyster is a dirty, broken-looking building that barely fits between the fishing tackle shop to its north and the junk shop to its south. Hanging over the door is a creaky sign that shows a painted oyster with pearls spilling from its gaping shell. The interior of the Overflowing Oyster displays a mix of rickety furniture and gaudy decorations, from strands of obviously fake pearls hanging over the kitchen’s entrance to wooden carvings of sultry mermaids and cheap paintings of ships at sea.
Interestingly enough, the establishment is not overflowing at all. There's a barkeep, one man with similar facial features in a cook's hat, and the occasional drunk that managed to stay way beyond the last call, probably discussing geopolitics and philosophy with the owner before dozing off at the table.
The man at the bar looks at you as you enter, with a pleasantly surprised look. He offers you a table, and introduces himself as Paltus Flynter, the owner.
"It's a bit soon for a drink, don't you think?", he attempts to break the ice jokingly. "What can I get you?"
Map updated if you want to take a look at the place.
Right - what's the plan?
Cypher's time to shine.
Cypher bats their eyes and turns to face the owner with a gentle smile on their face.
Such a quaint, lovely establish you have here Mr. Flynter.... or may I call you Paltus?
They get a little close while saying his first name, stretching it just a little, staring into his eyes.
Paltus, me and my... associates are in a bit of a pickle, a bind if you would, and it would mean ever so much if you might be able to help us.
Kittens could take notes on Cypher's big eye pout.
See, two men are going to have a meeting here today. We don't want them to have this meeting. It's bad for business.
They get really close and smile winningly, the fan drawn across their hip lazily.
You understand business don't you? And being a man who understand business, we wondered if you might point these two out these two for us, and look the other way while we distract them. It would mean... eeeever so much. We might even... do business ourselves perhaps?
Cypher casually shows the expensive jewelry that makes up their outfit.
I do after all, appreciate a man with a understanding of finer things. Gems... gold... pearls...
They smile wickedly and wait for the man's reaction.
Don't know if I can just take a 10, so...
diplo: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (3) + 21 = 24
Ugh, can't wait until I get my faction piece done so I don't have to worry about low rolls anymore, even if "Low roll" is subjective here.
With Paltus likely distracted, Eadric takes a moment to covertly glance around the establishment, noting the location of the exits. He then quietly sits down at the offered table and starts staring, unblinking, at the barkeep, looking for any signs of deception in the his response.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
It's my only social skill, so I'm throwing it in there just in case :)
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Mori approaches the bar stoically while Cypher makes with the faces at the bartender. "Pretty much what she said," he adds. "We've got a business, and these two parties are competition that are working to disrupt that business. We'll do our best to not wreck the place--any more than a rowdy drunken brawl."
He slams his hand down on the bar. "As a businessman, I understand that it takes more than winks and giggles to feed your belly. So while we wait for the aforementioned parties to arrive, how about I rent one of your rooms for a few hours?" He removes his hand to reveal the gold coin underneath. "We can talk about reparations for any damages that might occur later."
Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 20 That was lucky.
Specifically, he wants to rent the inner room closest to the door so he can stash Biltri there (who can then phase-lurch out on command).
Helme moves up next to Cypher and Mori. "We are business people ourselves, and it looks like you could use our business. We do need to stop a meeting, and are happy to cover any damages as my friend said."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
"Oh everyone calls me Pal here. Just go with that."
The man listens to your proposals, and gives it a quick thought. His brow turns into a dance of two furry centipedes for a moment, and he responds afterwards.
"Hm. I could use a renovation. On the other hand, not trashing the place -COMPLETELY- would also be fine. But if you say you can cover it, we can talk about this plan of yours. Do you know the names of these people?"
Cypher shakes their head.
Sadly, only that they will meet here at noon, and the organizations they belong to.
"Yeah, it's all, like, totally clandestine Bro!" Eadric say, trying his best to help out "Talking about renovation, though... I'm sure I could totally set you up with some most excellent designers. I have a friend who has a friend who's brother's wife's cousin is, like, a big wig in the decoration trade! They're like way exclusive, but if you help us out, I'll hook you up." He starts searching his pockets "And, eh... Did you say five gold?" Pointing at his cauliflower ears, he adds "Sometimes I don't hear so well..."
Know. Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Eadric really is socially inept. Maybe he does actually know someone who can help with a renovation?
The Aspis and Kortos Consortium. They are meeting here today to discuss some matters... we simply want the meeting to not go well. With luck, there may not even be any damage to repair.
They smile winningly and giggle softly.
I don't suppose you have any regulars from those two? If you could point them out, I'm sure I could convince at least one of them to miss the meeting, somehow.
They grin wickedly at that.
Mori chokes for a moment. "Did you say fifteen? For a few hours' use?"
He pulls out a platinum coin and four more gold. "Fine. But this covers any damages as well."
"Could rent an apartment for a week with that," he mutters to himself.
Cypher waggles their finger at Mori.
Now now, we can afford it... and I'd rather we stay on good terms, am I right? So... can you point out the two consortium members to us? Do you know of them? If not, maybe I can make some discrete inquiries quickly...
"Being capable doesn't make the price any less outrageous," the dwarf grumps at Cypher.
Mori walks over to a chair and sits down. There he meditates on the bonds between himself and his ancestor, working to draw Biltri from the Ethereal Plane.
"Oh?", Paltrus almost gasps. "If it's the Aspis, then it's probably Markell. He mentioned stopping by today."
He thinks for a moment, and continues: "Although - we do have this business arrangement going with him. He can't figure out I am involved. As for the room, since you were so specific, I need to move the current tenant. Hence the price. They will likely wish to be compensated for the inconvenience."
"We won't let him know that you are involved with any of this. We're good at that." Helme give Cypher a glance. She goes over and sits next to Mori to wait.
"I guess I will have to trust you, then.", Paltrus responds, and brings over a few cups, a plate with ale mugs and some wine in a pitcher. Then he heads off for the room in question, and gets out soon afterwards with an, obviously still sleepy, tenant. He heads upstairs with him, apologising to the man, and makingup an excuse about cockroach infestation. Once he gets back, he stops by to inform you that the room is clear, but he will need a few minutes to make up.
"Oh by the way - Markell said he'd stop by around noon, so you have time. Can you fill me in on what you wish to do, then?"
Honestly? Just stop them from meeting up. If you can point him out to me, I can.... distract him.
They wink slyly.
No meeting, no secrets passed, all good for me. Missing the meeting will sour things, and if nothing else, the delay in arranging another meeting will be enough for our purposes.
Paltrus nods and moves towards the bar to tend to the tap. Within the course of a few hours, several guests come and go, and some seem like they will stay for a while. 20 minutes before noon, a pale man enters and sits at a table near the bar. His clothing seem simple, but the materials seem like it could fetch a hefty price. He looks at Paltrus and merely taps the table in front of him. The barkeep seems to know what to do, and unshelves a bottle of wine to bring it to the man. On the way to the bar, he nudges Cypher's chair 'by accident' and coughs as he does so.
When pouring a glass to the man, he initiates some small-talk: "Sareth Markell! What brings you here today?"
The man looks at him with a hint of a disappointment - "I told you I would be visiting today. I have a meeting here, remember? Have you been hitting the bottle overnight again?"
"Oh, right, right! It must have slipped from my mind. Busy day. Well, enjoy the wine. I'll write it on your tab.", Paltrus continues the conversation for a brief time, then offers some food or snacks and leaves to tend to the other patrons, seemingly ignoring your table altogether.
Cypher smiles, turns on the charm, dabs a bit of exotic, intoxicating perfume on themselves, and saunters over to Markell. They lean over on the table, giving a dazzling smile as they trail a hand down Markell's arm.
Why hello there... Mr. Markell is it? You look absolutely dashing today. Your tailor must be a genius... of course, it's easy to fake genius when you have such a... exquisite canvas to work with. Mind if I sit with you a moment?
Before waiting for an answer, Cypher takes a seat, fanning themselves slowly as they lean back, showing off their neck and low cut on their dress.
Mr. Markell... have you heard of Arshea? The Empheryal Lord? You must forgive me for being so forward... but I am a devotee of that wonderful woman...
They give them a wicked smile, and lean forward close to their ear, whispering softly.
And my lord commands that I show devotion each day... by finding someone... and demonstrating the beauty of the body to them... by devoting myself to them for a hour... Won't you help me, please? I know it's a terrible inconvenience... but won't you sacrifice just a hour of your time to help me show devotion to my goddess? Pretty please?
They bat their eyes, being intoxicatingly distracting.
Best part? Not a lie to be seen.
To shift attitude towards me.diplo: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (15) + 22 = 37
Raman scratches his chin, "I might be able to rig a chair to fall apart. Just point em to it."
Craft(traps): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Raman takes a closer look at the chairs, but doesn't have the tools to spring a trap.
Mori leans over to Raman and mutters in dwarven.
Cypher leans in closer and puts Markell's hand in theirs.
Please? I have a room here even if you'd like... just a hour of your time...
diplo request: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (7) + 22 = 29
Eadric casually walks up to the table where Cypher has Markell eating out of the palm of their hand "Excuse me, Bro..." He says, boisterously, laying one large hand on the man's shouler and reaching between the pair to pick up the bottle of wine "What wine is this, it looks real tas-" With the bottle held over Markell, Eadric 'accidentally' squeezes as hard as he can in an attempt to shatter the bottle and get as much wine over the poor man as possible.
If the bottle breaks, Eadric will apologise, but leave the talking to Cypher and slip away quickly.
Strength: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
If the wine goes over the fellows lap, I'm sure Cypher will have little trouble convincing him to take them off to dry for about an hour ;)
"Woah! Sorry, guys. Eadric says as wine and glass flies everywhere "Don't know my own strength..." He smiles and starts roughly patting the man, but he quickly notices his bloody hand "Woah... Better get that looked at..." And he wanders off, staring at his cut hand and leaving quite a mess behind.
Cypher looks at him and frets.
Oh no! Oh dear, I'm so sorry... Come on, let's go to my room... We'll get you out of those clothes right away, we can send someone to wash them... it will give the perfect excuse for my hour don't you think?
Continuing to fret, Cypher helps him rise and continues to pat him down with a cloth, their hands lingering in all the right... wrong? places. They smiling drag them to the room that has been set aside, leaning in and whispering things in his ear that... well, that is just not appropriate to share in a pg-13 game.
The man seems lost for words as Cypher speaks, and stutters for a moment, then manages to speak up: "Y- Yes... I haven't been to a temple in a few months. Perhaps this is a good day to regain some good standing with the divines."
When Eadric breaks the bottle above his chair, he seems angry for a moment, but Cypher lulls him almost immediately and they retreat into the room to have him changed.
Sareth Markell came to the Oyster for a serious business meeting, but the strangers that approached him almost made him forget about the original purpose of his visit. After a rather friendly individual approached him with a very interesting proposition and some other fellow spilling the contents of therir wine bottle on them, it only made sense that he would get out of his clothes and have them cleaned. He can't meet his contact like this, can he? No - that would shed a bad light on the organisation. Perhaps they can reschedule? Of course they can - it is unfortunate, but it has to be done.
At noon, a man walks into the Oyster, looks around for a moment, then approaches Paltrus at the bar, asking him something quietly. Paltrus responds by looking around the tavern, then turning to him: "I could swear he was here a few minutes ago. Right next to that table.", and puts on a confused look.
The man walks up to the table, looking at the floor underneath the chair, and notices red stains on the floor. "Paltrus, is this blood? I'll go call the guard. A man is missing and blood is underneath his chair. You better explain this instant!", he gives the barkeep a stern look, and Paltrus stumbles on his feet, thinking of a response.
Meanwhile, in funkytown - Cypher, while your colleagues deal with whatever is happening outside, I will require an acrobatics, dexterity, constitution, or perform (dance) roll to showcase the teachings of Arshea to Sareth.
As for the rest of the party, there is another man near the bar threatening Paltrus to frame him with murder. From the looks of it, he probably could afford it. What's the play here?
Helme hurries up to the man who is threatening to call the guards. "That blood is from my friend over there. He broke a bottle and cut his hand earlier today." She indicates Eadric with a wave.
"I'm afraid he's hard on bottles, furniture, cups you name it he's broken it. I even had to mend his shield once. Were you looking for someone? Maybe I can help."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Better lucky than good, GM ;)
Eadric smiles inanely and waves back at Helme, making sure to show off his bloody hand. He then turns to sit back down at his table, grabbing his chair roughly, placing it down heavily at the head, and sitting down with considerable gusto.
Strength: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Hopefully he can break his chair and punctuate Helme's words :)
With a little effort, Eadric manages to break the chair when handling it. Prior to this, the face of the new new customer was hesitant when helme spoke to him, but he does seem convinced now.
"An associate. Male, tall, has a walking stick, black attire, usually. Long, dark hair in two braids. Seen 'im? Supposedly he sat in this chair.", he points to the chair with the stains underneath it.
Meanwhile, Raman casually drinks a tankard in the corner, but drops it. Nothing special in this establishment. He gets a replacement fairly fast. The bells ring on the tower in the dock, and indicate noon. Within a few minutes, the density of the crowd in the Overflowing Oyster increases rapidly, and Paltrus starts distributing food. Most of the new patrons seem to be dockworkers, and the place smells of fish within a few brief moments. The distributed dish doesn't help either.
If there is no objection to it, I'll just take 10 on my preform "Dance" check for a 19. I don't think I could live it down if I rolled a nat 1 on this check. :P
Oh him? He left. He said something about a temple and not visiting for a few months." Helme tries to keep a straight face, and hopes that Cypher doesn't make too much noise while, er, dancing.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
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Mori slides his chair away from his table and stands. He strides over to the man making the scene. "I'm sure that I didn't just hear you threaten to frame this upstanding businessman on as little evidence as a smudge on the floor and you not being able to find someone.
"I am a merchant of no small note, and if you carry through on your threat, I'll get the teamster's league, the brewer's brotherhood, several notable ship captains, and a whole slew of other unions to make whatever business you try under the sun dry up and turn to dust..." He proceeds to rattle off a whole bunch of bureaucratic technical jargon in defense of the tavern's proprietor.
Profession (Merchant): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
"Now, buy a drink or get out. This man isn't running a charity shelter."
The man seems set aback after Mori's threat, doesn't even order, and -muttering something under his breath - leaves the establishment.
We did it!
After a long and hard business negotiation, Cypher and Sareth Markell emerge from the rented room. Markell is clearly tired. He checks the inn for his contact, checks the time, and seeing it is clearly pass the time of their meeting with the associate nowhere in sight, he disappears into the exterior of the Overflowing Oyster.
Paltrus sighs with relief: "Well - that ended up pretty well. I think the 15 gp will cover the cleaning service and the broken chair, too."
With a long wait ahead of them, Eadric ordered a round of drinks and something to eat while Cypher and their new friend communed with Arshea. The time goes by quickly, and he shares stories about the wonderful world of armoury competitions that he and his friends regularly take part in "My speciality is shields, and it's like, a real competitive category. The things people can do, it's like, woah! But most people totally prefer the plate armour. My friend, Katriane makes the most excellent breastplates..." It isn't until Markell emerges from the room, that Eadric stops extolling the virtues of his friend's work.
He watches the door and cheers when he Cypher finally exits "We did it! They totally had no idea what we were doing, and I bet Markell was, like, way happier with the meeting he had rather than the one he planned." With a goofy smile, Eadric raises his tankard "Right, Cyph?"
Cypher waves Markell could by, their hair disheveled and a smile on their face.
Arshea Bless you!
As soon as he walks out the door they snap their fingers, suddenly well presented and clean as if they had just stepped out of the bath. They let out a deep sigh.
How very boring... A beautiful specimen like myself shows up and says "Use me as you like for a full hour" and that was the best he could come up with?
They shake their head and shrug.
Oh well, got the job done, and Arshea got some well deserved praise.
They turn to Paltrus and smile sweetly.
Thank you so much for your assistance. We do appreciate it.
They turn quickly to the others.
Think we have enough time to make it to the boat before it ships out?
Curious GM, could this scene count towards my faction goal of convincing someone to not take an action that would damage the pathfinder society?
Mori concentrates a moment, and Biltri fades away.
"On to see the dockmaster?" Mori asks. "You're not too tired, are you, Cypher?"
Mori, Darling, it would take a lot more than what he had to offer to tucker me out.
They flip their hair and sweetsong perches on their shoulder.
I can certainly take care of the captain to if we make it in enough time. And anyone else who needs it.
They wink at Mori as they saunter towards the door.
Safe to assume we have directions to the ship? Can we make it in time?
While waiting for Cyhper to return she starts to mend the chair with her spell. She pulls out the fifteen gold and lays it on the table. "Here you go it was worth it." She grins as the group leaves.
"Totally!" Eadric agrees as he leaves with the others "That went so well, I mean like, Bro, when you laid into that man with all that merchant stuff..." He starts laughing and puts a friendly arm around Mori "The look on his face! Man, it was priceless!"
As much as he feels compelled to stop the drug at it's source, and introduce it's inventor to the delights of pugilism, Eadric reluctantly agrees that the Captain of the Blue Dragon's Bite should take priority.