For obvious reasons uneasy at the thought of having to deal with the authorities, Irus the Beggar moves to leave.
"You can find me at the Healing House if you have further need of a guide," he specifies before leaving.
He disappears into the crowd, but doesn't go too far. From a distance, he keeps on eye on the odd lot of newcomers, curious to find out what they will do, and wondering if they have attracted any unwanted attention... Quori? Agents of The Thousand Eyes?
Stealth in crowd: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19
Iris the Beggar finds them near the door.
"Are you all all right?" he asks them worriedly. "I heard the commotion..."
The beggar guides them to the inn, promising to be nearby if ever they have need of his services.
"Surely there will be ale and bards," the beggar says as he offers to lead the way through the town once again.
Ever on his guard, the beggar look around to get a better understanding of the situation. Does the private residence seem to belong to someone with means? Does anything suggest the identity of the owners? Are there guards nearby? And are there alleys nearby, which would allow for a quick escape, if needs be?
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
"It's over here," the beggar indicates the place to the halfling, stepping aside to allow him to deliver the herbs.
While continuing to lead the group forward, Irus shrugs as if to say: not my concern. But clearly, there is more to it for this common beggar...
"It's best to avoid them," Irus councils, clearly uncomfortable. "Most people just look the other way. They're everywhere, listening. And they don't take kindly to people meddling in their affairs."
The beggar leads the way to deliver the medicine...
"I said I would guide you, and it's on the way," the beggar says, forgetting all about the red-skinned man.
"It really isn't much of a detour," he reassures the others before showing them the way forward.
Seeing that the red-skinned man seems to be headed for the very same tavern to which Irus intended to lead the group, the beggar turns to the Halfling, and suggests in a conversational, albeit discreet manner: "perhaps you would like to have a drink and some food before going about your business?
Perplexed and suspicious, Irus looks around to make see if the odd newcomer is alone, or if others are watching over him.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Then, unless the good people that he is guiding decide otherwise, he surreptitiously invites them to continue on their way first to deliver the medicine, and then to the tavern of ill-repute, for ale and good stories.
Do we see a look of recognition in Citlackhad's eyes? If so, does the strange man in the street also notice Citlackhad's realization?
Clearly not human? Is he looking at anybody in particular?
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
Sense Motive (+5 to intercept secret messages, if applicable): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Completely blind to the newcomer's intentions!
Faced with such an impressive man and having some sense of propriety, Irus the Beggar takes a step back, allowing his betters to handle the situation.
"I meant no offense," the beggar apologizes, recognizing how his assumption could be considered insulting. "For what it's worth, I know how it feels. People always assume..."
For a moment, there is a sadness in his eyes that tells of a painful past. But only for a moment.
Irus smiles, and leads the way.
Outside, he notices a Warforged repairing the building exterior.
"Your companion?" he asks Gramaton, wrongly assuming that all Warforged somehow know each other.
"I am Irus," the beggar introduces himself, careful to stay a step away from the dangerous looking creature the Halfling calls his companion.
"I believe your delivery is on the way to the tavern. Perhaps the lady and her escorts would not mind taking a detour? It would be an occasion to discover Stillstone Holt," Irus suggests to the others.
"The boy works for some people who work out of a run-down building," Irus answers, taking the time to describe the building's location. "I don't know who they are, but I can find out."
"In the meantime, I did promise to guide this lady, along with her escorts, to a lively tavern," Irus continues. Then, he turns to the Halfling: "Sir, I couldn't help but notice that you have a delivery to make. Could I be of assistance? And perhaps you would like to join these good people for an ale and a meal?"
Irus flips to boy a gold coin with a smile that quickly fades.
"Now go," he warns him sternly, "and don't come back. You can tell your master that this place is off limits."
Intimidate to make sure the point gets across: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
EltonJ wrote: perception was too low to notice anyone. Yeah... That's part of the game!
"We can help you, Scamp," Irus pleads, looking to the others around him for acquiescence. "We can keep you safe. Would you like that?"
"I've been there, Scamp. I know how hard it can be. When I was a kid, I thought that I didn't have a choice. But the truth is: you do have a choice," Irus continues to reassure the child while looking around to see if anyone is keeping an eye on the boy.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Iris has a look around, to ascertain if the boy has any companions.
"You see?" the beggar reassures the pickpocket. "He's not a bad guy. But you shouldn't be stealing, Scamp. Are you alone?
Irus intervenes: "He's just a boy. He didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to survive. Right, boy?"
From the pocket of his tattered clothes, Irus conjures a bright silver coin, which he holds out as a bribe to be paid if the boy cooperates.
"What's your name? Who do you work for?' he asks in a friendly manner.
diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Overhearing the conversation between Salindra and the Halfling while waiting to guide the Half-even woman and her escorts, Irus looks up as if to say: perhaps I can be of assistance?
Jessilel Lyn wrote: "Oh, yes, certainly," Jessilel absently hands Irus a coin, "You'll have to tell me all the stops." Knowledge, Local: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
The beggar happily pockets the coin. gp? sp? cp?
"I can recommend a lively place, but I would encourage you to take some muscle along for protection, just in case," Irus says, looking at the immense Kalashtar suggestively, before giving the half-elf lady some directions.
Irus happily accepts the coin, and bows in lieu of thanks. He takes a step back, admires the coin for a quick moment, and then slips it into the folds of his ragged old breeches.
"If you like, I can find a guide for you, to show you around the neighbourhood,"Irus proposes to Gerrytt, seeing that as he had imagined, the Halfling is of some importance.
He then turns to the half-elven woman, having overheard her speak: "And I know just the place, if you're looking for a drink and a good story!"
The poor and hungry beggar seems overly eager, as if worried that in the end, he will receive not a single coin for his troubles.
Still standing a few steps behind Salindra, Irus discreetly scans the room to see if anyone has reacted oddly to the arrival of the newcomers, or to Gerrytt's introduction.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25 (+5 to intercept secret messages, if applicable)
"In the hall," Irus answers, leading the way. "He's a Halfling with a dinosaur. I'm pretty sure that he's not from around here."
"There is a fellow here to see you. It seems important," he addresses her with proper respect and deference. "He has a letter for you, he says."
Eager to led the way, Irus takes a step towards the hall. Perhaps he hopes for a coin, for this troubles?
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Failing to find her, Irus takes the time to ask around to see if anyone knows where she is.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
"I'll find her!" Irus assures the Halfling.
Ever willing to curry favour, Irus rushes to find either Salindra or a leader among the healers in order to be the first to announce the arrival of the important-seeming newcomer.
Irus the Beggar enjoys the meal served to him by the healers of House Jorasco. He occasionally delivers messages and runs errands for them, and they are always friendly and generous. They do not judge him, and they don't ask any questions, respecting his privacy.
I didn't chose this life, he mutters while drinking the warm broth.
While eating, he listens to the news: the hospital is an ideal place to learn what is happening in the neighbourhood given that anybody wounded usually ends up here. Also, the other poor souls who receive the hospital's generous hospitality often have a tale to tell...
Nicco was already tired, and the day had only just begun. Still, he has as happy as he had ever been, and grateful to be in Stillstone Holt, safe and sound. The tavern owner was relentless, but the young boy enjoyed the toil, which was a refreshing change from the tests and lessons of his past...
Two serious-looking men stepped into the tavern. Kalashtar? Quori? Had agents of The Thousand Eyes found him even here, far from Sarlona? His pulse quickened, but he remained calm as he took their order and served two pints of watered-down ale and bowls of that awful soup the cook called stew.
He was certain that they were up to something. He noticed one of them ever so discreetly signal to the barkeep, and his hand almost reached for one his expertly hidden knifes. You're just being paranoid, he convinced himself, making his way almost invisibly through the crowd.
"Nicco!" the barkeep barked. Nicco ran rather than walked, and the fat man who drank as much as he served handed him a small package. No need to say anything. Nico understood. Smugglers. Relieved, he delivered the goods, and headed back tot he kitchen to wash a mountain of dirty plates and sticky cups.
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