"People are in and out of the city all the time. Merchants, travellers, sailors. And beggars. We can't track them all. Then there's Theif Camp. Noone knows who's out there. "
Nodding at the clerk he says, "Thats what I was afraid of. Many thanks good man."
After speaking with the clerk at the cafe Darthen decides to stop by Darvyls house. He knocks on the door asks for Darvyl and waits a few seconds before he appears. With a smile and a nod at Darvyl, "Good to see you again my friend. I was wondering if you had a few moments to speak with me. Maybe down at the tavern on the corner. My treat."
Once they find a seat away from other prying ears he says, "I need some information on a person. Someone I believe you know. The name is Qevir. What can you tell me about him?"
He knocks on the door asks for Darvyl and waits a few seconds before he appears.
Darvyl answers his mother's call to the door. "Darthen?" Darvyl steps out on to the stoop and closes the door behind him.
With a smile and a nod at Darvyl, "Good to see you again my friend. I was wondering if you had a few moments to speak with me. Maybe down at the tavern on the corner. My treat."
Darvyl brightens at that last. "Yes, by all means. Lead the way."
Once they find a seat away from other prying ears he says, "I need some information on a person. Someone I believe you know. The name is Qevir. What can you tell me about him?"
Darvyl's face becomes more guarded at this. "Why? Is he in trouble?"
"So you're Taylo's boy, eh? Tell me, what is your father's favorite meal?"
Jeorik thanks about his father for a moment, recalling fond moments.
A bit ruefully, Jeorik answers Dorman, "He always told me he liked my mother's stewed hare. But who can say what it is now. He walks different fields. I have come to Korvosa with the news that my father has died."
Darvyl's face becomes more guarded at this. "Why? Is he in trouble?"
Taking a drink from his ale Darthen says, "Not that I have heard. Qevir did the paperwork on an arrest by the Nails that I am looking into. I'm hoping he can give me some more information on the arrest of Goodman Gnarls. Anything he can remember will help me out. When you talk to him see if he knows anything about Maggie Bright. She seems to be entwined in all this but I don't know how. Come by Jonathan's when you have something." After a few more minutes of pleasantries Darthen pays the tab and heads back to his room. He keeps an eye out for any trouble.
"He always told me he liked my mother's stewed hare. But who can say what it is now. He walks different fields. I have come to Korvosa with the news that my father has died."
Dorman's first thought was Stewed Hare. By the Twelve-at-Table, yes, that sounds like Taylo, all right. Then the rest of Jeorik's message hit. "This is indeed hard news. Come, sit, nephew, and tell me how your father died."
Dorman leans back against a low cabinet and crosses his arms, positioned so that he might converse with both his servant Arando -- this might be the key to finding out who'd been scaring off his workers -- and his newfound nephew Jeorik.
"It was two years ago. We were in the fields, tending to our crops, when he died. The priests say they think his heart simply failed him. We would have sent word but we had no knowledge of where either of my father's brothers yet lived."
"I apologize for not coming sooner but I had to first ensure the welfare of my mother and younger siblings. I am just thankful that Erastil led me to you so swiftly. I feared I would have to scour all of this great city to find word of you."
"I feared I would have to scour all of this great city to find word of you."
Throughout most of Jeorik's story, Dorman remained attentive, respectful, but stoic. At this, though, the corners of his mouth tightened in a peculiar grimmace, reflecting a sour thought Jeorik couldn't decipher.
"Two years. So. You have my thanks, Jeorik, for bringing me this news. If your family has need of any simple thing, you have but to ask, and I will see to it."
Dorman stood, reached for a carafe of iced water, poured a glass, and offered it to the younger man. "You yourself look ready for a battle, unless you've made habit of wearing steel when visiting relatives. Why come ye armed today?"
Scoffing at the very notion, "That is merely propaganda by those who cannot dare compete against the First Lord openly. We have long been the victim of unfair press. 'Tis an unfortunate consequence of this new age." Pausing for effect, Inigo then adds, "But to answer your question directly, the First Lord is worshipped here because His patronage ensures order and to the considerable majority, order is much desirable to chaos, for without order we cannot be here now having the luxury to discuss the merits of such things as goodness or evil.""But surely you are not here to merely discuss religious and philosophical minutiae with the Grandmaster. Perhaps, I might be of assistance... if you can tell me what you wish to find?"
"Hmmmm . . . you are correct, of course, at least so far as my not being here to discuss religion and philosophy," Keliwyn responds. "Perhaps you and I can discuss those things further another time, maybe over a meal and a bottle of wine. I do consider myself to be a man of the world, and you obviously being a man of intelligence yourself, I would be interested to hear more of your thoughts."
"Anyway." Keliwyn continues, clapping the man on the back, "what brings me here today is a rather mysterious communication suggesting that Grandmaster Morten and I may have a significant common interest, and that I should speak with him. All very vague, and what the subject may be, I have no idea, but I'm certainly curious and hoping he can shed some light on the matter."
Dorman stood, reached for a carafe of iced water, poured a glass, and offered it to the younger man. "You yourself look ready for a battle, unless you've made habit of wearing steel when visiting relatives. Why come ye armed today?"
Jeorik grins, a little embarrassed. He accepts the water.
"It is a habit for the sons if Ilsurian to go armed when traveling. I am newly arrived in the city today. It was fortunate I was so armed. I had a small encounter in the tent city outside the gates that might have gone worse if I had appeared less threatening."
"As for battle, I am a hunter by trade, not a warrior, but like all the children of Ilsurian I have been trained for war, if the need arises."
"As for battle, I am a hunter by trade, not a warrior, but like all the children of Ilsurian I have been trained for war, if the need arises."
Dorman grew more somber at that, nodded, and turned to Arando. "This might be a good time to tell us about the man who threatened you, lad."
Darvyl takes up the little coin he has from the day and starts an evening of casual drinking, wandering from inn to tavern and asking after Qevir.
Darvyl takes up the little coin he has from the day and starts an evening of casual drinking, wandering from inn to tavern and asking after Qevir.
In the third tavern Darvyl runs into a scowling Nira and smiling Tywana. After a few pleasntries, they tell you Qevir is pulling a late shift, desk duty at the station.
Qevir is taking the particulars on a purse snatching when you walk in. He holds up an index finger, but its about 10 minutes before he's done. Ink smudges his fingers, obviously he's been doing a lot of writing.
"Darvyl, good to see you, compadre. Did you come to join up again? We get a 10 gp finder's fee for anyone I recommend who makes it through training."
"He's been watching from across the street. He told me it would be 'unhealty' for me to keep working for you. I'm sure he is an enemy of yours - I was hoping you could tell me who he is, so I'd have a better idea how to deal with him."
"He's been watching from across the street. He told me it would be 'unhealty' for me to keep working for you. I'm sure he is an enemy of yours - I was hoping you could tell me who he is, so I'd have a better idea how to deal with him."
Dorman's eyebrows rise. "He's still there, across the street?
"Jeorik, what say you to a hunt? Arando, would you care to join my nephew in apprehending the man you speak of?"
"Hmmmm . . . you are correct, of course, at least so far as my not being here to discuss religion and philosophy," Keliwyn responds. "Perhaps you and I can discuss those things further another time, maybe over a meal and a bottle of wine. I do consider myself to be a man of the world, and you obviously being a man of intelligence yourself, I would be interested to hear more of your thoughts.""Anyway." Keliwyn continues, clapping the man on the back, "what brings me here today is a rather mysterious communication suggesting that Grandmaster Morten and I may have a significant common interest, and that I should speak with him. All very vague, and what the subject may be, I have no idea, but I'm certainly curious and hoping he can shed some light on the matter."
"And this communication came from the Grandmaster? Who delivered the missive, if you recall?"
"Darvyl, good to see you, compadre. Did you come to join up again? We get a 10 gp finder's fee for anyone I recommend who makes it through training."
Darvyl laughs. "Sorry, my friend, no such luck for you, though I'd be happy to buy you a new hat." Darvyl passes over a few small coins. "I'm looking into something for a friend. Do the names Goodman Gnarls or Maggie Bright ring a bell? Anything would be a help."
Do the names Goodman Gnarls or Maggie Bright ring a bell? Anything would be a help."
"My word, I"d not be like to forget Gnarls. Two Nails brought him in one night for selling Qat. They had beat him quite badly. Compound fractures of his legs and jaw. Blood all over, simply a mess. They just deposited him here and left me to write up the paperwork. That was during the drug sweeps in Midlands. The Wrappers had gotten too bold and we had to put 'em in their place. Gnarls just got caught in the same net. Probably mouthed off to 'em."
"...Gnarls just got caught in the same net. Probably mouthed off to 'em."
Darvyl chuckles. "Yeah, that'll do it every time. So Gnarls wasn't one of the Wrappers? Tell me, do you happen to remember who the Nails were?"
After following up on Gnarls, Darvyl reminds Qevir of the other name, Maggie Bright.
"Jeorik, what say you to a hunt? Arando, would you care to join my nephew in apprehending the man you speak of?"
"Whatever I can do, I would be glad to," says Jeorik, then more thoughtfully, "What is your plan? Do you want us to use stealth or approach him directly?"
Jeorik rises, ready to follow his uncle's directions.
"Whatever I can do, I would be glad to," says Jeorik, then more thoughtfully, "What is your plan? Do you want us to use stealth or approach him directly?"
"Stealth, I should think. If he is brazen enough to be waiting in the sunlight for poor Arando here, it's likely that he's drawing his courage from a tavernful of his fellows not a city block away. Address him directly, and you'll have more than one weapon pointed your way.
"Our lunch comes served within the hour, and when it does, the two of you can slip out the side window." Dorman jestures above and behind him at a single window, shuttered, ten feet off the floor. "Be quick and quiet, and you and Arando may catch him between you.
"When you do, bring him inside. It's not right that he should go hungry watching us eat."
"Yes! Let's get him! He ticked me off."
"He's been watching from across the street. He told me it would be 'unhealty' for me to keep working for you. I'm sure he is an enemy of yours - I was hoping you could tell me who he is, so I'd have a better idea how to deal with him."Dorman's eyebrows rise. "He's still there, across the street?
"Jeorik, what say you to a hunt? Arando, would you care to join my nephew in apprehending the man you speak of?"
So Gnarls wasn't one of the Wrappers? Tell me, do you happen to remember who the Nails were?"
"No, Gnarls wasn't a Wrapper. He always sold stamped goods. The lead Nail was that a!!##!# Paralictor Graves. Wait a moment and I'll look up the second man." Qevir rummages in his files. "Ahh, Anton Levey"
After following up on Gnarls, Darvyl reminds Qevir of the other name, Maggie Bright.
"Sorry, Darvyl. Her name doesn't ring a bell."
The lead Nail was that a#~@!*~ Paralictor Graves. Wait a moment and I'll look up the second man." Qevir rummages in his files. "Ahh, Anton Levey"
Jeorik looks at Arando, wondering at his enthusiasm, and then with a rueful grin he examines the window.
At the appointed hour he does as his uncle suggests and jumps softly to the ground below. He waits for Arando to join him and takes stock of the area around him, trying to judge the best way to sneak upon his assigned prey.
Arando slips out the window after Jeorik. Looking around, he quietly asks Jeorik, "What do you think?"
Jeorik looks at Arando, wondering at his enthusiasm, and then with a rueful grin he examines the window.
At the appointed hour he does as his uncle suggests and jumps softly to the ground below. He waits for Arando to join him and takes stock of the area around him, trying to judge the best way to sneak upon his assigned prey.
"And this communication came from the Grandmaster? Who delivered the missive, if you recall?"
"Oh, no," Keliwyn explains, "I was told of this supposed common interest by someone in politics, who, quite frankly, asked to remain anonymous, and who apparently heard something from somebody else. Again, what the subject of all this speculation may be, I don't know, but I'm certainly curious."
[
Sorry, Graves is upper middle management in the Nails. Levey you don't know. Don't forget the Hammer.
Jeorik, Arando:
You're standing in the side alley. Moving toward the front of Dorman's building will bring you out on Milk Street. Moving toward the back will bring you to a parallel street.
"And this communication came from the Grandmaster? Who delivered the missive, if you recall?"
"I was told of this supposed common interest by someone in politics," Keliwyn explains, "who, quite frankly, asked to remain anonymous, but they apparently heard something from somebody else. Again, what the subject of all this speculation may be, I don't know, but I'm certainly curious."
"Now then," he continues, "you certainly look like someone who commands respect around here. Tell me, do you have any idea what interest Grandmaster Morten and I could have that overlaps? We've met in passing before, but I can't imagine we have much in common, other than we're both Elves. However, despite considering Korvosa to be my home for many years, I was raised among the Mierani, while your grandmaster is of the Forlorn."
"He will recognize me, Jeorik, I think I should go around the block and come a direction he isn't watching."
Jeorik, Arando:
You're standing in the side alley. Moving toward the front of Dorman's building will bring you out on Milk Street. Moving toward the back will bring you to a parallel street.
"No, Gnarls wasn't a Wrapper. He always sold stamped goods. The lead Nail was that a~#&&#* Paralictor Graves. Wait a moment and I'll look up the second man." Qevir rummages in his files. "Ahh, Anton Levey"
"Many thanks, Qevir. I've got an early job tomorrow, but let me know when you're back on days and I'll buy you a drink or five."
Taking his leave, Darvyl heads to Jonathan's to look up Darthen and give a report.
"He will recognize me, Jeorik, I think I should go around the block and come a direction he isn't watching."
"That sounds good," says Jeorik, "I'll wait till I see you to make a move towards him. I'll be standing at the corner. If he sees you, walk towards him and draw him into conversation and I'll slug him from behind."
Jeorik moves to the edge of the alley and peers around, making sure of his mark. Then he removes one of his leather gloves and looks around for small little pebbles with which to fill it up to make a makeshift sap.
Jeorik, Arando:
The mark is a big man, shaven head, dressed in studded leather. He is carrying a heavy walking stick, a large knife is at his belt. He is directly across from Dorman's front door and stares intently at Dorman's facade.
Jeorik, Arando:
The mark is a big man, shaven head, dressed in studded leather. He is carrying a heavy walking stick, a large knife is at his belt. He is directly across from Dorman's front door and stares intently at Dorman's facade.
Arando will go around the block to approach the mark indirectly. He will try to remain inconspicous among the traffic, as much as possible.
Jeorik, Arando:
The mark is a big man, shaven head, dressed in studded leather. He is carrying a heavy walking stick, a large knife is at his belt. He is directly across from Dorman's front door and stares intently at Dorman's facade.
Arando/Jeorik:
Milk Street runs north to south. 25' wide. Your alley is on the south side of Dorman's building which is on the east side of the street. The mark is 15' north of the alley across the street. Cross streets to Milk are 45' south and 60' north of the alley. There are no other alleys in this stretch of Milk Street, but a number of doorways. Light passing traffic on foot, two vendor carts in the middle of the street 30 and 40' north of the alley.
Arando, are you coming from the north or south?
From the north. I'll look for a group of people to walk behind, the best available to make me inconspicuous.
Arando/Jeorik:
Milk Street runs north to south. 25' wide. Your alley is on the south side of Dorman's building which is on the east side of the street. The mark is 15' north of the alley across the street. Cross streets to Milk are 45' south and 60' north of the alley. There are no other alleys in this stretch of Milk Street, but a number of doorways. Light passing traffic on foot, two vendor carts in the middle of the street 30 and 40' north of the alley.
Arando, are you coming from the north or south?
As soon as he sees Arando exit to the north, Jeorik walks casually out of the alleyway and across the street, apparently admiring the architecture of the buildings in front of him, until he carefully turns to see if the watcher has taken his attention off of Dorman's building.
The tough continues to look fixedly at Dorman's, oblivious to anything else.
"Now then," he continues, "you certainly look like someone who commands respect around here. Tell me, do you have any idea what interest Grandmaster Morten and I could have that overlaps? We've met in passing before, but I can't imagine we have much in common, other than we're both Elves. However, despite considering Korvosa to be my home for many years, I was raised among the Mierani, while your grandmaster is of the Forlorn."
"Very astute of you, Master Keliwyn. But alas, the Grandmaster's position deals with quite a large number of concerns. Hence, the possible intersection of your common interest is vast... You say that you are of the Mierani while the Grandmaster is of the Forlorn. Are these different clans?" I know full well what it means for an elf to be of the Forlorn.
How close can I approach unnoticed?
The tough continues to look fixedly at Dorman's, oblivious to anything else.
"You say that you are of the Mierani while the Grandmaster is of the Forlorn. Are these different clans?" I know full well what it means for an elf to be of the Forlorn.
"Ah, my good priest," Keliwyn explains, "That is to say, I was raised among my brethern in the Mierani forest, on the western coast, and was not raised among humans, which is what my people mean when referring to the forlorn."
"No, Gnarls wasn't a Wrapper. He always sold stamped goods. The lead Nail was that a~#&&#* Paralictor Graves. Wait a moment and I'll look up the second man." Qevir rummages in his files. "Ahh, Anton Levey""Many thanks, Qevir. I've got an early job tomorrow, but let me know when you're back on days and I'll buy you a drink or five."
Taking his leave, Darvyl heads to Jonathan's to look up Darthen and give a report.
Darthen sits down to a dinner of roast and vegetables at Jonathon's. The tavern is slightly crowded this early in the evening. Most patrons are eating dinner. A few are only drinking ale before heading home to their familes. Most of the faces are familiar to Darthen. He nods to a few people that are more regular customers. Just as he starts to take a bite of his food Darvyl comes in the door, pauses and looks around before heading to Darthen's table. As Darvyl sits down Darthen signals a waitress to bring a plate of food and an ale for his companion. [/b]"I didn't expect to see you this soon."[/b] Darthen grins at Darvyl, "From the look on your face it seems you have some information for me. Come, sit, and share a meal with me while we talk." As Darvyl takes a seat, Darthen scans the crowd to see if anyone is paying to much attention to them.
Just as he starts to take a bite of his food Darvyl comes in the door, pauses and looks around before heading to Darthen's table. As Darvyl sits down Darthen signals a waitress to bring a plate of food and an ale for his companion. [/b]"I didn't expect to see you this soon."[/b] Darthen grins at Darvyl, "From the look on your face it seems you have some information for me. Come, sit, and share a meal with me while we talk." As Darvyl takes a seat, Darthen scans the crowd to see if anyone is paying to much attention to them.
Darvyl looks appreciative for the roast dinner, then looks appreciatively at the waitress as she goes to fetch his food. Getting serious, he beings to fill in Darthen in a low voice.
"Yeah, I do -- if only all your jobs were this straightforward. Seems your Goodman is, or was -- he may be changing profession -- an 'independent' qat dealer who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Somehow, he must have ticked off one or two of the Nails who was rounding up dealers in Midlands. They gave him a good, stern talking-to, then dropped him off with the Watch."
Darvyl takes a few bites of his meat.
"Oh, yeah. My contact didn't know anything about the other name."
As Darvyl finishes his meal, he gets a somewhat calculating look. "Listen, Darthen. I've got a job right now, but the pay is for dung. If you've got something going that could use a little night work, I'd love to hear about it."
How close can I approach unnoticed?
Arando makes it to within 15'. The tough jerks upright as if he had been dozing off, glances around and spots you. He does a double take between you and Dorman's front door.
The thug squares up to face Arando before wittily engaging conversationally, "Huh? -- How'd ...."
Keliwyn and Inigo:
An initiate wanders into the garden to announce that "Grandmaster Morten is free to see Keliwyn now." She waits for your conversation to end, then leads Keliwyn to Morten's office.
(Believe it or not, I rolled a 22!)
I will hasten my approach, extending my right hand it what will hopefully look like a friendly gesture. I will attempt to deliver touch of fatigue.
(On the off chance I should roll on the attempt, I have a . . . 17 (!)
(My d20 is hot tonight! I'm sure I'll pay for it later.)
How close can I approach unnoticed?
Arando makes it to within 15'. The tough jerks upright as if he had been dozing off, glances around and spots you. He does a double take between you and Dorman's front door.
The thug squares up to face Arando before wittily engaging conversationally, "Huh? -- How'd ...."
Keliwyn and Inigo:
An initiate wanders into the garden to announce that "Grandmaster Morten is free to see Keliwyn now." She waits for your conversation to end, then leads Keliwyn to Morten's office.
"I've enjoyed our conversation. Let's do it again sometime. I'm sure there is much profit to be had in such an endeavor."
"I've enjoyed our conversation. Let's do it again sometime. I'm sure there is much profit to be had in such an endeavor."
Shaking Inigo's hand, Keliwyn replies, "and thank you for passing the time with me. I enjoyed our discussion as well, and do hope that you will join me sometime soon when we can share a meal and talk at length. Although I would guess we may disagree on a few things, I would look forward to the conversation and company "
Arando makes it to within 15'. The tough jerks upright as if he had been dozing off, glances around and spots [Arando]. He does a double take between [Arando] and Dorman's front door.
Jeorik rushes the tough from behind, using his weighted glove as a sap.
Initiative: (1d20+2=20)
Charge attack: (1d20+3+2=21)
Damage: (1d4+2=4)
Jeorik is hoping to quickly subdue the thug and then he and his comrade can carry the man in.