Geddoe's page

Geddoe gave a little glare out of the corner of his eye at Nerek, then turn towards the Hollow natives. "So what can you tell us about this Consortium?" he asked as they traveled down the long and lonesome road.

I doubt I can do it, since I'm not local, but just in case, my Know (local) is: d20 + 4 = 16.

"Boy," he responds, shaking, "you spend your nights holding your daugter as she hacks up blood, and your days selling every draft animal you can find to cowards running for their lives, and come back here and call me that again."

His hand has slipped down to the head of a hatchet hanging off his belt, and you remember an old saying about lumber men and axes.

Geddoe's eyes widen. "Er... exit, stage left."

Man! That's a good listen check!

Those of you who choose to the stables are greeted by a middle aged man, who looks as though he hasn't slept in days. As you wlk through the door, he snaps at you, "I haven't another horse for sale, they are needed here for work, not for running your sorry arses from the plague."

Geddoe blinks hard, then whispers as an aside to Calar, "Looks like we've found ourselves an a$$. Too bad we can't strap our packs to him to save ourselves the hassle."

Now dressed in his black studded leather, Geddoe imitated Calar by buying enough rations for four days. "Aren't there any wagons that go out that way? Be easier and quicker than walking," Geddoe queried as he packed the rations in the main compartment of his pack. Standing up, he fastened one of his daggers on his hip, in plain view, then attempted to hide his other daggers on his body, one just under his armpit, the other in his boot.

The first Sleight of Hand check: d20 + 5 + 4 (being a dagger sized object, as per the PHB) = 21. THe second Sleight of Hand check: d20 + 5 + 4 = ick, 10. Nat one'd the second dagger. Also, deducted 2 gp for rations.

"Hn." Geddoe turned from the group when Calar agreed to the plan, and headed back to the Jak'a'napes, where he proceeded to banter with the halfling innkeeper, get some blankets and a pillow, and settled down in the commonroom, where other travelers were beginning to sleep. Geddoe spread his blankets, and after tucking his pack and knives under his legs, went to sleep.

"Sounds good to me. I'm staying at the Jak, in the common room, so just find me when you're ready."

"Just follow me. Both Vishantos and Laurent likely know the way too; I think Laurent even works for them, he may know the shortest way."

Calar pauses for a moment. "We will wait for first light then? Meet here at that time? Is that the plan?"

"You might as well talk to these 'Consortium' people tonight, so that you don't waste time tomorrow," Geddoe grumbled. "I guess I can give you a hand in this matter. Who knows what kinds of tricks and dangers the dwarves left behind when they left; you'll need someone to get you past all that." 'Plus, who knows what kind of loot they left behind?'

Ouch. A bit of humble pie for Geddoe!

Geddoe gritted his teeth at the herbalist's sudden rebuttle of his opinion. Was this true, or just some ill concieved plan...? "What's the chances of this recipe even working? By your own word, it sounds more like witch's snakeoil than anything."

"Honestly," she says glancing at the dwarf as she speaks, "The only things I have here may ease the suffering of your friend. I don't have the means to make a cure for the taint."

Sighing, Geddoe looked at the two who he had followed. "And thus it goes..." he said. "A lesser man would say, 'I told you so'... but I guess I am a lesser man."

Geddoe entered the herbalist shop behind Nerek and Calar, appraising the store. He'd rather not say anything, since he was, in the group, the one with the least faith in this woman's ability to alleviate the plague.

Anything of interest in this place?

And, er, who is she talking to?

"Very well." Geddoe picked up his pack holding all of his worldly possessions and the last chunk of bread, and stood up. "Let's get this over with."

Geddoe continued to eat his stew, not looking at the other man, but, mentally, was running like a racehorse. Remembering his mother and youngest brother, curled on the floor, black blood running from their eyes and mouths...

He sighed, and set down his spoon. "Now I lost my appetite..." he muttered, before looking up at the man. "I'll come along. I guess this matter DOES catch my interest, at least for the day or two I remain here."

Dack! Keep on forgetting to post as Geddoe!

Laurent stares intently and with a previously unheard steel addresses the dwarf, "I hear the priests don't have the skill, or maybe the depth of faith, required to heal these people. Jokes aside, if you want to talk to Lady Laurel, we can take you there, Lodetracker."

Shifting his gaze and his mood, Laruent tells Vishantos "The consortium's not a much better friend to me than it is to you, Vishantos, even if they gave me a desk. I've the next couple of days off, seeing as so many o' the men have taken sick. I've little faith we'll find a cure, and I suppose if we don't, I might have to find another place to ply my skills. I've always fancied seeing the the statues in Magnimar..." Laurent trails off and wistfully looks out the window, eyes unfocused.

Darn, you said it before I could. Oh well.

Geddoe was rather bewildered; he had merely sat down to get a bite to eat, and now, apparantly, he was being drafted to talk to some herbalist about a plague.

Still, he felt he had to put his two coppers in. "And what if this herbalist knows nothing about it? What will you do, go searching for some wizard to work his magic, to get rid of this plague?" he said, scooping some stew onto a piece of bread.

After popping the morsel in his mouth, ('My, my! Delicious! That she-demon at least knows how to cook!') he continued. "Not to be cold hearted, but plagues are rather commonplace, and people've survived them," 'Or died horribly and miserably of them' Geddoe thought, thinking back, "...With or without miracle cures. What makes this one so different, and what can YOU do about it?"

Geddoe again entered the inn, searching out the halfling innkeeper. After ordering their best meal ('Five silvers?! You've got to be kidding!'), he looked around for an open seat. Unfortunately, for some reason, tonight the dining room was filled, and the only seat he could find was next to two men, one who was filling notebooks full of doodles.

Sitting down, he proceeded to ignore the two men, who were just as capable of ignoring him. That is, until, he heard one of them ask about a plague. Discreetly, he listened.

Bluff check to conceal my interest... 15+2=17. Unless that's a disguise check... Oh, and fixed my gold totals for the roleplaying earlier.

Sect wrote:

Awesome... getting our characters in one spot to interact is like herding cats... who are armed with knives and swords.

Ha. Seriously, but at least they have 'met'. Besides you and the wizard are likely at the same inn. And if the dwarf needs a place to stay, well there you go.

Of course, like an idiot, I FINALLY realize that there was a map of the place the entire time. Jeez...

So, is the inn Jak'a'napes or the Rouge Lady? I had thought the RL, but it sounds more like a place of ill repute...

Geddoe stepped out of the improvised changing room one of the salesmen at the Low Market, a clothier, had rigged, plucking at the simple white shirt and tough brown breeches, suitable for heavy travel. "It'll do fine," he told the salesman, paying him a surprisingly reasonable price for the outfit.

Tucking his studded leather armor into his pack, he glanced up at the sun. 'Looks like it's time for food,' he thought. Hefting the pack over his shoulder, he began walking back towards the inn, to get some food ('Soup a'la Burglar' he thought wryly) and gather some information.

Meanwhile, the rogue from the city was quelling his urge to kill. "Eight silver?" he gritted, staring at the bored halfling inn mistress.

Pausing her filing of her nails, the plump halfling rolled her eyes upward at the stubbly headed human. "Did I stutter?" she asked sarcastically.

"Why... it's only a spot on the ground! Standard's five silver!" Geddoe bit out, outraged at the audacity of the innkeeper.

Sighing, as though she had explained this before, she replied, "With the sickness that's been goin' about, we need to ensure the cleanliness of our establishment. Of course, that requires more silver."

'So, she's making sure that poorer people go to other places, and still breaking even by over charging the ones who CAN pay... good tactic, considering that this is one of the only inns in this rat hole...' Geddoe thought, privately impressed, but mostly outraged. "Fine!" he snapped, reaching into his coin purse, which held only a gold piece, five silver, and all of his copper; all the rest of his wealth was secreted throughout his armor and pack. "Do you also have baths?" he asked grumpily as he slammed down the gold piece on the counter.

The halfling only had to glance at the piece before it vanished. "Hot water baths are down that hallway." The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Just three silver. Health reasons, after all."

Geddoe twitched.

*******

An hour later, Geddoe was almost glad that he was overcharged for the bath. Almost. Sure, the halfling woman wasn't joking when she said the baths were hot (he suspected that she was preparing soup for the night's supper), but with a little ingenuity (yelping and screaming before realizing that he could just take a bucket and wait for the water to cool) he was able to get cleaned for the first time in over a week. Plus, his scalp was once again as smooth as an elf's face.

Newly bathed, newly shaven, newly pink tinged, and newly fleeced by tiny filchers, Geddoe strode the riverside, looking for a place to buy a new set of clothing (leathers were not the best way to stay cool, or stay inconspicuous, after all). Hopefully, he would be able to find some clothes that WEREN'T overpriced due to "health concerns", or, gods forbid, he would have to stab someone and strip them naked.

'This... is not good,' Geddoe thought.

As soon as the wagon he rode in on began entering Falcon's Hollow, Geddoe saw the signs of sickness, both morally and physically. Having travelled quite a bit over the last seven years, Geddoe could tell when he was entering a place where corruption had taken root, even with his self admitted lack of wisdom. It surprised him that an out of the way place like this had such obvious signs of crime, with the outskirts having a sort of slummish feel to it.

This place may not be such a good place to lay low in order to regain his savings. WIth all hope, this was not a place ran by organized crime, for they did not appreciate new blood running in on their grounds.

What was also plain to see was the sickness encroaching. Having survived through a plague that stole half of his family, the thief could tell that another such epidemic was beginning here. As much havoc and opportunity a disaster would cause, the risk was too high.

'It may be best to not delay here...' he thought as he hopped off of the old farmer's wagon. Leaving his leather vest off, he shouldered the backpack full of his tools and walked down the street, looking for some place to stay, and gather information.

'And get a bath,' Geddoe added mentally as he bumped between two men, a guardsman and a smith, from the looks of them, and narrowly missed clipping an older looking gentleman, who wrinkled his nose as he passed.

That was Calar and Vish, in case you were wondering.

Oh, and once everyone is statted up, please make a fortitude save...

Otherwise feel free to socialize amongst yourselves as you feel appropriate, start building character relations.

OOC: Oh, that builds GREAT confidence in us.

Geddoe rolls an 18 on his die, resulting in a Fort of 19.

Geddoe stared blankly at the sky, a lone strand of straw sticking from the corner of his mouth. Ignoring the rocking of the hay wagon, where he was currently lounging in a nest of the stiff material, he reflected upon the retreat from his last home.

"Lucky, lucky me," he muttered. "Just because a piece of jewelry LOOKS expensive from a distance doesn't mean that it ain't a faux piece of crap." He had figured, what with the great amount of affection the bauble the previous owner had lavished upon it, it must've been a heck of a catch. However, when he broke into the home in order to acquire it and fence it, he quickly discovered that the jewel was merely glass, and totally useless.

It didn't quite explain all of the hired killers sent after him, but at least he managed to shake them off over the last tenday. But at what cost?

"I get run out of my home, I'm out of my small fortune..." Geddoe wiped a sheen of prespiration from his head, stubbly from the lack of grooming over the last week. "... I smell worse than a dead goat..." he conceded. Popping open the vest of his studded leather, the only clothing he was able to escape with, he looked over his shoulder at the driver of the hay wagon.

"Old man! Are we at that Falcon's Hollow place, yet?"

The crotchety old driver yipped back at him with, "Huld yer horses, son! There's 'bout a half hour 'til we git there!"

Sighing, Geddoe plopped back into the hay, pulling his vest off to reveal a grimy white shirt. Hopefully there'd be a bath at the end of this!

Sect's character. How is it?