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Shadow over Riddleport

Game Master Joana

"Gristav failed to mention that our destination was a house of madness and murder... so no, I didn't come that prepared." -- Phillip Hargreaves


5,401 to 5,415 of 5,415 << first < prev | 99 | 100 | 101 | 102 | 103 | 104 | 105 | 106 | 107 | 108 | 109 | next > last >>

M 1/2E Magus 2 :2223a1: BAB1 CMB/D:3/15 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1 HP13/19 FRW522 Appraise7 K:Arc7 K:Lcl7 Ride6 Scft7 UMD8 Diplomacy 5 Intim 5 Sense Motive 3 Perf:Dance 3
Braddon Hurst wrote:
"Snake" wrote:
As they take their leave, "So is this Weatherby dead or alive?" he asks Braddon. "And I'm guessing he doesn't know anything since we're wasting our time with The gnome and his dog."
"He's alive and well. Probably hungry. Saul has him downstairs. He tried to send a letter to Lil and was on his way to meet her when we caught him. The current plan is for the General to let the letter go through and then grab Lil at the meeting place, assuming she'd do what loverboy suggests. Saul isn't prepared to get too involved since Shorafa loves Lil and since she had his hand taken off he's a bit wary of her. We're probably letting him run off tomorrow but we'll ask the General what he wants done with the guy when we hand his letter over this afternoon. We think we've got everything out of him, but he's fought us every step of the way. I think it would have been easier if Malkith let me torture him for a bit- not much- just enough to show we were serious."

"Because pursuit, defeat, and imprisonment were perhaps to be interpreted as frivolity?", Gristav interjects. "We're holding the scribe because if we are to pursue her, it's better if he not warn or support her. We're holding him, because if her influence is magical, as has been suggested, some few days might make a difference, might free him to reconsider her, to reconsider us. And we're not torturing him, in hope of that possible reconsideration. Besides, torture is diminishing, and casts shadow on whatever's learned by it."

-----

Grimas Oltedler wrote:
Grimas looks exaggeratedly over the group and down the road behind Gristav. "What? No blonde this time?" he deadpans.

"The blonde was supposed to be a secret", Gristav replies in kind, then smiles faintly.

Grimas Oltedler wrote:
"Where to, gents? If it's anywhere but across the river, you've come to the wrong man."

"Just the far side, Grimas, and soon enough, back again."


The ferryman shoves the flatboat out into the river without further remark and poles the party across the river against the sluggish current pushing them toward Riddleport Harbor. Stepping off on the far side, the men take the road south through the western half of River District. Piccolo notices that most of the buildings on this side of the river are boarded up and abandoned, with the exception of a smithy, a fishpacking house, and a sizeable tannery, the mingling stenches of the last two places of business contributing generously to the pungent miasma which has led to this part of town being known as 'the Reek District.'

A short way past the smithy, a well-kept and tidy waterfront building is a welcome sight. The propped-open door facing the street is obviously the back way; the party walks around to a wooden boardwalk and small jetty over the water. Sizeable bay windows of leaded glass overlook the mouth of the Velashu and the harbor beyond. A swinging placard over the door bears the sign of a dented ale mug, and gilt letters beneath spell out 'Publican House.' Like the kitchen door, this door is propped open to let in any breeze that might find its way upriver.

Within is a large open tavern room which looks even larger due to the fact that it is empty, with table and chairs pushed to the walls and stacked atop each other. In the light from the riverfront windows, a blond halfling woman in an apron is mopping the floor, her sleeves rolled up past her elbows to reveal strong, wiry arms. Despite the lingering smell of from the river, the tavern is aggressively spotless, its well-worn wooden planks smooth from heavy foot-traffic and assiduous application of the mop. Above the shelves and hanging tankards behind the bar is painted in bright red letters, No Cyphermages.

Piccolo:
Knowledge (local) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10 The Order of the Cyphers is a society of skilled wizards and sages who have dedicated themselves to unraveling the ancient arcane secrets of Riddleport's most prominent landmark, the Cyphergate.


Female Halfling

The halfling looks up from her mopping and clucks her tongue reproachfully. "We're open in the evenings, you know. You needn't always show up when I'm trying to get a spot of work done. Arnando!" she calls over her shoulder. "That motley crew is back for tea and seedcakes!" Turning back around, she spies Piccolo for the first time. "Hello," she smiles at the gnome. "They've picked themselves up a new stray, have they?"


hp 22 / 22; AC 16; Init +2 Male Half-elf Ranger 2

Braddon sidles up to Eulalie with a broad grin.
"And if I came in the evenings how would I get you to myself?"
He waves at the new stray.
"Piccolo, this lovely is Eulalie. Don't cross her or she'll make you regret it forever."
Braddon winks.


M 1/2E Magus 2 :2223a1: BAB1 CMB/D:3/15 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1 HP13/19 FRW522 Appraise7 K:Arc7 K:Lcl7 Ride6 Scft7 UMD8 Diplomacy 5 Intim 5 Sense Motive 3 Perf:Dance 3
Eulalie Makeckney wrote:
The halfling looks up from her mopping and clucks her tongue reproachfully. "We're open in the evenings, you know. You needn't always show up when I'm trying to get a spot of work done. Arnando!" she calls over her shoulder. "That motley crew is back for tea and seedcakes!" Turning back around, she spies Piccolo for the first time. "Hello," she smiles at the gnome. "They've picked themselves up a new stray, have they?"

"Tea and sympathy, if luck holds", Gristav responds to her holler, taking hope from being a crewman of 'that' motley.


Female Halfling
Braddon Hurst wrote:

Braddon sidles up to Eulalie with a broad grin.

"And if I came in the evenings how would I get you to myself?"

"If you keep coming in a pack, you won't get me to myself neither," she points out with a wink. "I'll say this, though: You've missed the dwarves today so your timing's getting better. Mind you wipe your feet! I've just mopped and don't want dirt from the road all over my nice, clean floor. Shuffle off to the tea room now, and get yourselves out of my way. Go on with you!" She shoos them toward a doorway next to the bar with the business end of the mop.


Male Human (Chelaxian) Cleric

Through the door is a smaller tap room with five mismatched tables of various sizes, from one as long as the one in the owner's suite at the Gold Goblin to a tiny round one in a corner barely large enough for two. A short bar and three tall stools obstruct the way to a back hallway which, from the shaft of light visible within clearly leads toward the kitchen with its open back door.

Behind the bar is a bear of a man, dressed in street clothes and an apron, albeit with a notched sword swinging at his side. "You lot turn up as often as a Taldan lady's nose," he remarks cheerfully as he wipes down the counter with a cloth. "No more spider bites, I hope?"


M 1/2E Magus 2 :2223a1: BAB1 CMB/D:3/15 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1 HP13/19 FRW522 Appraise7 K:Arc7 K:Lcl7 Ride6 Scft7 UMD8 Diplomacy 5 Intim 5 Sense Motive 3 Perf:Dance 3

"Worse. Madness drawn from worlds beyond, channelled by a black-masked priest, now dead, on Braddon's sword. The madness seems to have passed, with time, or with the priest, I cannot say. That is not the business that drew us here, but I felt... you deserved to know."

Gristav will answer whatever he can for Arnando, eventually relating how Gris had come to meet Beltias, and to imagine him a Sarenrite, and how, still needed, was a Speak with Dead...

Happy to RP that, but willing to have it glossed as well.


Male Gnome Bard (Negotiator) 2

Piccolo smiles warmly, "A pleasure Miss Eulalie. I wandered in the front door of a gaming house and apparently joined a game with high stakes. We are playing now. This fine establishment is on the game board. I hope it is a pleasant place."

Eulalie Makeckney wrote:
The halfling looks up from her mopping and clucks her tongue reproachfully. "We're open in the evenings, you know. You needn't always show up when I'm trying to get a spot of work done. Arnando!" she calls over her shoulder. "That motley crew is back for tea and seedcakes!" Turning back around, she spies Piccolo for the first time. "Hello," she smiles at the gnome. "They've picked themselves up a new stray, have they?"


hp 22 / 22; AC 16; Init +2 Male Half-elf Ranger 2
Gristav wrote:
"Worse. Madness drawn from worlds beyond, channelled by a black-masked priest, now dead, on Braddon's sword. The madness seems to have passed, with time, or with the priest, I cannot say. That is not the business that drew us here, but I felt... you deserved to know."

Braddon smiles at Eulalie and moves over to join Arnando and Gristav.

"It's his fault." He tells Arnando pointing at Gristav.
"He saved a poor old guy from drowning, returned him to the temple of Sarenrae in Rotgut and when we went there to visit this morning it turned out to be a temple of Norgorber and we had to kill the evil bastards."
He pats Gristav on the shoulder.
"There may have been a blonde involved." He winks.


M 1/2E Magus 2 :2223a1: BAB1 CMB/D:3/15 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1 HP13/19 FRW522 Appraise7 K:Arc7 K:Lcl7 Ride6 Scft7 UMD8 Diplomacy 5 Intim 5 Sense Motive 3 Perf:Dance 3
Braddon Hurst wrote:
Gristav wrote:
"Worse. Madness drawn from worlds beyond, channelled by a black-masked priest, now dead, on Braddon's sword. The madness seems to have passed, with time, or with the priest, I cannot say. That is not the business that drew us here, but I felt... you deserved to know."

Braddon smiles at Eulalie and moves over to join Arnando and Gristav.

"It's his fault." He tells Arnando pointing at Gristav.
"He saved a poor old guy from drowning, returned him to the temple of Sarenrae in Rotgut and when we went there to visit this morning it turned out to be a temple of Norgorber and we had to kill the evil bastards."
He pats Gristav on the shoulder.
"There may have been a blonde involved." He winks.

"Nearest blonde to the matter is Eulalie. I suppose she was involved, in that her kindness led to Arnando, and his to the Cloud, where I was when Padraig needed rescue... And it was a temple, to Sarenrae, indwelt by a cultist of Norgorber. And a gang, with plan and process to make and market flayleaf. All ended now, or, at least, set back. But we still need the miracle we thought to seek there, to Speak with Dead, in pursuit of justice, for Braddon's grand-dame, and of mercy, for he her testimony will free."


Female Halfling
Piccolo Taphodarian wrote:
Piccolo smiles warmly, "A pleasure Miss Eulalie. I wandered in the front door of a gaming house and apparently joined a game with high stakes. We are playing now. This fine establishment is on the game board. I hope it is a pleasant place."

"Always pleasant," she assures him. "Anyone not pleasant, Arnando shows them the door. That's the rule at the Publican: You leave your differences on the doorstep. The Publican House is neutral ground, not owned by or beholden to any of the bosses. All are welcome to enjoy an evening without worrying about a knife in their ribs or a hand in their pocket. Well," she shrugs, looking up at the red letters over the bar, "everyone except the Cyphermages. But that's nothing personal."


Male Human (Chelaxian) Cleric

Arnando listens to Gristav and Braddon with a look of disbelief on his face. "Norgorber? In Riddleport? In Rotgut? Well, I suppose if you're going to find those evil bastards anywhere, that's about the likeliest place. Gendarmes aren't about to go patrolling in there. But what's all this about Sarenrae? I haven't heard of a priest of the Dawnflower in town."


M 1/2E Magus 2 :2223a1: BAB1 CMB/D:3/15 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1 HP13/19 FRW522 Appraise7 K:Arc7 K:Lcl7 Ride6 Scft7 UMD8 Diplomacy 5 Intim 5 Sense Motive 3 Perf:Dance 3
Arnando Rolf wrote:
Arnando listens to Gristav and Braddon with a look of disbelief on his face. "Norgorber? In Riddleport? In Rotgut? Well, I suppose if you're going to find those evil bastards anywhere, that's about the likeliest place. Gendarmes aren't about to go patrolling in there. But what's all this about Sarenrae? I haven't heard of a priest of the Dawnflower in town."

"The black-mask posed as a Sarenrite, served gruel to the poor, let them sleep in the pews. I believed him. Jaelle believed him, and I'd trust a woman to beware of wiles, over any wisdom I have not. So, investigating an unrelated murder, and seeking to speak with the deceased, we went there, and I asked. Something, I can only guess what, convinced the villain we were on to him, and he set his thugs upon us. We... prevailed. Four dead, I think, two left to wake, one left in company of one of our own, who has hopes of blunting the anger of the patron of the perfidy, one Marzo, by name. Perhaps only for himself, but I'd like to think better of him, than that. Marzo might be mollified, by the recreational crimes the Norgorberite committed, which crimes might be what caused the villain such alarum, when we arrived, investigating a murder."

"For you see, this Beltias Kreun, is that was his name, had a second bed in his chambers, shackles at the head, and a collection of women's trifles, scarves, small garments. One might force oneself to a purely recreational, and un-criminal, interpretation, but not after one has tasted the twist of the dark priest's mind, glaring forth as if a shade were drawn off a dawn's window... if a sun beamed black."

"The man needed killing."


hp 22 / 22; AC 16; Init +2 Male Half-elf Ranger 2

"I did that," Braddon boasts.

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