Carridan nods and smiles warmly at Carmina's welcome initially, but the smile slowly fades as she continues on about sewers and worse locales. "Worry? Oh, ahah - no, surely not." He takes a moment to look around the group once more, 'Quite an ecclectic bunch, these Pathfinders,' before adding, "It is good to meet you all. I do hope I can be of some help."
Gared gave Horven an understanding nod and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before returning the packages and coin. The dwarve's weather face and eyes spoke volumes of support and encouragement that would have been foreign to his tongue. "I'll be praying to Erastil to watch over Ganer." The dwarf added.
Upon meeting Carridan
Gared watched the interactions silently as he took stock of the man. After the initial introductions and greetings, the dwarf stepped forward wearing an uncustomarily wide smile and offered his firm grasp to the woodsman. "Well met, Master Carridan. I am sorry we've not met under happier circumstances, but I believe that Erastil is pleased to see our paths cross."
The halfling approaches timidly. "Ah, yes...I had some business that I needed to take care of. Captain Heidmarch implied that you were at our disposal if we needed something."
Horven draws out the parcels of coins and letters. "If you could, c-could you deliver these for me? They are all addressed...as you can see. It would mean a lot, Andel."
The scribe walks over to Horven and takes the offered package, looking over the package and checks the address. His eyebrow raises questioningly but only replies, "Master Horven, I will make sure this package is delivered to its intended recipient."
"Thank you very much," Horven replies, a sigh of relief slipping out. He gives Andel a polite nod and heads back to the others.
Once at Gared's side, Horven takes a deep breath. "Having Ganer leave made me realize that I should reconcile with my past. Andel will make sure my debts are paid and I can face what's next with a clean conscience. I am not the person I was when you met me at the courthouse and I never will be again."
Andel starts as Yamyra posts her question. "Yes I was just gathering up my notes on what we have determined about that strange race." He hands over several sheets of parchments and adds, "Although we do not have any proof, it is quite likely there is a passage to the underground realm known as the Darklands."
The notes state the following:
Descended from mysterious fey that once dwelt deep underground, the derros lust for the comforts of the surface, yet the light of the sun causes them to blister, burn, and die. Derros often abduct surface dwellers to perform hideous experiments on them in their never-ending quest to divine what protects those who dwell above from the burning death, yet the intrinsic madness that plagues all derros dooms these experiments to failure every time.
A typical derro fights with a short sword or a repeating light crossbow with plenty of poison bolts. Some derros also carry an aklys—a hooked throwing club attached to a 20-foot- long cord. This cord limits the club's range, but allows the derro to retrieve it as a move-equivalent action after it has been thrown.
Derro leaders are typically sorcerers, although they also make excellent rogues. Many derros wield strange and unusual weapons like hooked polearms, eerie whistling aklyses, long hollow spears that can be filled with toxins, or crystalline throwing wedges that shatter on impact to create horrific bleeding wounds.
A derro stands 3 feet tall and weighs 70 pounds.
Eyes widening at Andel's words, the tremula in Yamyra's voice betrays her concern. "Here, beneath Magnimar?!"
Okay, adding a scroll of Sunlight to the shopping list...
edit: there is no such spell.
There are Sunburst & Sunbeam...
Both of which are much higher level than us...
As the halflings scurry off in a hurry, one with a parcel and the other with an air of import, Carridan turns to the dwarf and tiefling and shrugs. "I hope it wasn't something I said?" Scratching the back of his neck, he shakes the thought away and turns to Gared, "You honor Old Deadeye, I take it? How did that old hunter win your faith, Gared?" The question is asked with a smile and an air of familiarity toward Erastil, though he offers no outward sign of being a devout member of Erastil's faithful. "Perhaps you'd be willing to tell the tale and show me the grounds here?" He turns back to the tiefling, "Would you like to join us?"
Gared's face darkened at the druid's question but the dwarf's composure didn't collapse under the weight of his guilt as it usually did. It seemed his new place among the pathfinders was doing him some good, Gared considered briefly before addressing Carridan.
"Perhaps Andel would be better suited to showing you the manor." replied the dwarf stiffly. Closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh, followed by an equally long breath, Gared steeled himself against the memories and emotions of his past.
"Forgive me. The tale of how I came to my faith is not a happy one. I dedicated myself to Erastil long ago to attempt to atone for my failure of kin and clan. It is not a matter I wish to discuss or relieve any more than I do in my dreams. I would be happy to talk about most anything else."
"Well..." Carmina says, slightly surprised by Gared's behaviour. "I'll have to do some shopping still... But I'm sure I have the time to show you the place if Gared doesn't want to. It's not like this manor is that big after all. Or at least the interesting parts aren't."
Gared's tentative grasp on his formal unaccented tone fell away as he realized he hadn't reoffered to show his new companion the area, lapsing into the dwarvish brogue that was typical of the dwarf when he was upset. "Bah, don't ye be payin' any antention to me bitter words! I'll be showin' ye around just fine, or I'm a bearded gnome. Right this way Master Carridan!"
Feeling a bit overshadowed by the new arrival and with Yamyra conferring with Andel, Horven decides to slip away from the manor and do something he hadn't done in a while: spend time alone. His mind was not in the best of places at the moment but a little air and some exercise might be of some help. He quietly makes his way through town until he finds a shop. Horven purchases some essentials and tucks them away to set up later.
Deciding that some more information wouldn't hurt, Horven casually asks around for information about the disappeared, spending a little coin to loosen some lips (about 2 gold).
Diplomacy (Gather Info): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27
Horven sets out to the area where the disappearances have occurred, which by happenstance is nearby the largest free market in Varisia: The Bazaar of Sails. While the halfling was a relative newcomer to Magnimar, the reputation of the marketplace is well-known. Among the hundreds of ever-changing shops that fill the dockside plaza Horven sees cropscfrom local farmers, Varisian artifacts, Osirian spices, Chelish finery, Andoran quartos, and more exotic goods from a hundred foreign ports fill the market till it bursts at the seams.
After Horven fills the items on his shopping list, he proceeds to discreetly check into the disappearances. Most of the citizens who have known someone among the disappeared tell him while the missing people have been returned physically unharmed, their memories must have been wiped clean, as they had no memory of the events of their disappearance. Also not all of the victims have been recovered. There are still some missing citizens out there. Perhaps if you find them, then the mystery will be solved.
Seeing it is approaching lunchtime, and feeling hungry Horven is about to leave the Bazaar before he is approached by by a group of well-armed men. Looking closely at them, he can see they are not members of the Watch but are more likely guards used to police the marketplace from the more egregious outbreaks of crime.
The leader points at you and says, "The Princess wants ta see ya. If you will follow me..." The tone of his voice indicates that was not a suggestion.
Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Immediately fearing that he had found himself in trouble, Horven tenses up. Upon reflection, he realizes he may have found another lead. He relaxes a little, though he makes sure to keep his eyes and ears open. "Lead the way, please."
The leader motions you to follow him, followed closely by the other guards. They do not disarm or even bother searching you as might have been expected.
They lead you over to one of the larger tents and motion you to enter. They do not follow you, instead stationing themselves outside.
As your eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, you hear an accented female voice echoing from the back of the tent. "Thank you for accepting my...invitation, Master Graveltoes, just recently employed by the Pathfinder Society, if I recall. Please, have a seat." As you take your seat, the speaker steps into view. She is a tall woman of Kelishite origin, judging by her attire which is quite elegant. She extends her hand in greeting. "I am Sabriyya Kalmeralm, known as the Princess of the Market." Her eyes bore into you, her gaze unreadable. "While it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, this is not a social call. I wish to know how you came to acquire the pendant currently hanging on your neck."
With a start, you realize she must be referring to the Pendant of Souls, which you found next to the skeleton back in the wererat Ayala's lair.
Horven takes the woman's hand. "The pleasure is mine, Princess Kalmeralm. This pendant was found in the Crow, in a wererat's lair. There was a skeleton next to it. I don't mean to assume, but I'm guessing this has to do with your father's disappearance?"
"My companions and I rowed from the harbor out there," Horven says, taking off the pendant and handing it to Sabriyya. "There was a bedroom in the upper part that was taken over by the Tower Girls. His remains were found in an alcove."
Horven muses for a moment. A part of him wanted to keep as much information as close to the chest as possible, the other wanted to reach out to Sabriyya for mutual aid. Taking a deep breath, he consults his gut about the woman.
Sense Motive to get a general feeling about Sabriyya: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
While you find the stately woman hard to get a read of, you do sense an honest desire to get to the truth. Ahhh, so you did find his remains...and in the Crow no less. He had told no one what his plans were. Well, it would seem to me he was on the trail of something..." She pauses for a second before continuing, "Yet, perhaps that for another time. I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude for discovering what happened to my father."
She reaches into a drawer and writes something down on a parchment. She then seals it up using a wax seal. "This is a writ of voucher worth 100 platinum coins." She waves off the offered Pendant, "You may also keep the pendant, I see no reason not to allow you to profit by its powers. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to my duties."
As she has you escorted out, she calls out to you "I will not forget this favor you have done for me. You and your Pathfinder allies."
Loot list and XP Tally updated!
Carridan spends what time Gared and Carmina are willing to give him walking around the grounds. He nods in greeting to any servants they pass and remains mostly quiet during the tour, only speaking when spoken to but then almost always ending his answer with a question. His reaction to any answers (or lack thereof) show no judgement, and he gives the air of someone rather easy to get along with so long as you enjoy speaking at length about yourself. As his dwarf and tiefling guides seem to be ready to pull away and end the impromptu tour, he asks, "So there are people missing and you think we'll find answers in these sewers? What gives you the impression this is the best place to start looking?"
"Oh, there was this rather undead fellow in the sewers who told us that he had seen some kind of dwarves kidnapping people. I guess that's a pretty good lead, isn't it?" Carmina answers, seemingly not finding the sentence to be that much out of ordinary.
"Oh? An undead fellow? And kidnapper-dwarves? I'd have never guessed such things could be found in a city's sewer, and yet I'm not surprised either. Regardless, it sounds like a good deal of trouble if these dwarves are organized and the only witness is a dead man."
"Derro, not dwarves, and with a Witch leading them, though this is all assuming Lockerbie can be trusted." Corrected Gared, who was clearly not comfortable interacting with the undead in any fashion, or in associating dwarves with kidnappings.
Perception 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11
Gared cried out and nearly fell over himself , completely suprised as one hand went to practiced work pulling his bow off his shoulder and the other towards his quiver.
"BY OLD DEAD EYE'S STAG!" The dwarf looked almost wounded as he staggered over to the wall clutching his chest. "Ye can't, ye just..." The dwarf started, his eyes darting to the halfling's alarmed face and then to the sandwhich he had in hand. "BAHAHAHAHA!" Roared the dwarf as tears started to stream from his face and he slid down against the wall he'd been leaning against.
Carridan's eyes widen in surprise and, for a moment, concern as Garen displays a dramatic and rapid cascade of emotions. As the dwarf settles on riotous laughter as his last chosen response, Carridan scratches his head and turns to regard Horven and his sandwich.
"A... tasty sandwich, I presume?" He glances at Gared then back to Horven and Carmina and shrugs with confusion.
People are.... strange.
"Sorry about that, Gared. I thought we could use a little levity," Horven says with a smile. "Actually, Mister Horn, I needed to share something with the group. Apparently, the body we found this amulet next to was the Trade Princess of Magnimar's father. I told her where we found the body and such. She gave us a writ for a hundred platinum as her thanks for the information."
He takes a bite of his sandwich. "I left out the part about the entrance in the sewers."