The evening after you have received your Harrowing, you find yourself sleeping really badly. You are restless, and not cold water, splashed in your face or a glass of hot milk (or something similar) manage to make you feel sleepy. The night passes, and you toss and turn until you significant other kicks you out of the bed and tells you to sleep in the common room.
You find yourselves returning back to the caravan, and standing in front of the Harrower's cart. You see yourself doing it, but you make up your own excuse/reason as to why you are standing there. Could be that you wanted to ask her one more question, or maybe you want your money back because you don't believe in that kind of magic anymore. Maybe you think she placed a curse on you, and want to confront her with it before going trough the appropriate channels.
Once inside, you find yourself surrounded by some people you know from around the capital city.
The harrower is sitting in the middle, with a small note that seems to have been written by someone using their left foot instead of right hand, while on horseback going at considerable speed. You can see traces of blood, ink smudges and places where water touched the paper and it has crumbled slightly.
She tries to talk, but her throat is too hoarse from screaming silently. She points to the paper, where there are the following words written: "I'm sorry, *HE* made me do it. He told me to bring in Duke Borga, and I couldn't resist. Please forgive me for what I have done, and what I will do...
With those words she places the nineth card in her Harrowing, and a portal opens up which swallows all of you instantly.
The last thing you see is the woman throwing the Harrow deck after you, through the portal, before it closes.
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Shan-yu wakes in a cold sweat, his usual calm visage a mask of torment. It was only a nightmare. he thinks to himself, trying to calm his racing heart. Flames of memories past had tormented his dreams, ghostly words echoing in his mind… snakebite… death of ideals… honor… Long had he thought on the Harrowers words, and still no sense could be made. Had someone tried to deny him honor? Who? How? Why? I must know more!
Dressing quickly in his monk’s robes, Shany-yu stealthily makes his way out of the monastery, a route learned as a child, and practiced as an adult. If master knew how often I snuck out for extra practice, I would no longer be the prodigal son of the order. Driving himself even harder than normal to escape the watchful eyes of his brothers, he quickly finds himself at the caravan. Using another trick of his youth, he quickly unlocks the simple door and makes his way in, surprised that it seems his arrival was foreseen. Sitting around the harrower are many specters of his past, but his eyes fix on that of his Master. Rushing forward and throwing himself down before him, Shan-yu begs ”Master, please forgive me, I am but a fool.” but his master makes no notice of the begging, no sign of acceptance or forgiveness are etched on his stony features. It is then that the harrower speaks. As she tries to explain herself, confusion flits across Shan-yu’s face, More riddles, what does she mean? then blackness as the portal swallows him up.
Waking an unknown time later, he groans as he rises, rubbing his back that seems to have knotted up. His hand freezes as he touches the familiar feel of his bow, What the… I didn’t bring this… and then, as his senses awaken, he realizes he has his full armament, including all of the sacred relics of his order that he had donated to the monastery. Rising, Shan-yu looks around, trying to make sense of it all and obtain his bearings.
Passing through the town gates Valeeran could easily make out the bold colors of the caravan that had setup shop a short distance away. Granted he was supposed to be researching the natural link a creature has with its home plane and how such connections could be manipulated but the weather was far too nice and the chance to see a Varisian caravan in person too tempting. Making his way through the tents and wagons the wizard was amazed at the eclectic mix of goods and sundry available. This was no simple marketplace on wheels however. It seemed any open area was filled by musicians, dancers or more exotic entertainments.
Following the lilting sound of a particularly entrancing tune Valeeran found himself joining a circle of people watching a fiddler play as a young Varisian girl danced. Her lithe movements were accented by a swirl of color provided by various scarves tied to her outfit and held in hand. Muttering a few minor words of power Valeeran noted that a touch of magic was involved in further enhancing the performance. After watching a few minutes the elf prepared to head off to explore the rest of the camp when his eyes happened upon the sign of a Harrower on a nearby wagon. Intrigued, or perhaps drawn, he made his way over to it and entered with a knock.
The inside he was greeted by the powerful smell of scented smoke and dim light. The wagon was large for its kind but still felt cramped by its furnishings which included various mismatched chairs, many unidentified plants hung to dry from the ceiling and a table setup in the center of it all. The Harrower sat opposite the entrance and greeted him as he entered, offering him the set across from her. Once he'd settled in to the plush chair she asked, "And what would you have revealed?". For a moment Valeeran was silent. What would a wizard with command of not insignificant divination magics need a Varisian show-woman to tell him? Almost before he realized he was saying it the question presented itself, "Tell me about my parents." he said. It was an odd question to hear pass his lips. Many orphans wondered about their parents but it had never been a question that had weight on the elf who generally lived too firmly in the moment to consider such things. But now, in this place, it was what came to mind and already the woman was laying cards on the table.
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In the darkness of the night the end of one day passed to the beginning of another. The transition was marked by few as most who cared for such an arbitrary delimitation of time were long asleep but in his room at the academy Valeeran noted it with annoyance. Having returned from his days excursion hours ago he still could not take his mind from the Harrowers words. Even now, in the dead of night, he paced his chambers trying to make sense of it all. His late night consternation did not go by unnoticed and Skitter would frequently make his own feelings about wizards tromping around well past sun down known before curling back up into a ball of fur to try and get some sleep.
"I know, I know, Skit...I just can't seem to sleep. What do you think she meant anyway? And why did I even ask about them?" the elf asks the creature pointedly trying to ignore him.
Seeing there was no chance of sleeping while his master was so agitated the weasel uncurled himself with an annoyed huff before responding, "What do you care what some Varisian trickster has to say anyway? Just be happy you got out of there with your purse."
"As point of fact she didn't even charge me." Valeeran distractedly replyed.
"All the more lucky for you. Now how about we get some sleep? Master Anton will be expecting you in the library early tomorrow, especially after you skipped out on another day of research today...err..yesterday." Valeerans familiar retorted.
"I'm sorry my friend I just can't. Perhaps if I could just talk with her again?" Once the idea occurred to him he immediately felt good about it. "Yes that's it. Varisians are known for burning the midnight oil are they not? If I can just stop over and ask her a few more questions I'm sure I'll be able to sleep."
"Stop over? The caravan is outside the city!" Skitter objected but he already know it was too late. Valeeran had an idea in his head and there would be no dissuading him from it. Already the wizard had grabbed his travelling cloak and was heading for the door.
"Coming?" he asked the drowsy weasel. Giving another huff Skitter crossed the distance between them and climbed right up the wizards garb to perch across his shoulders.
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Reaching the Harrowers wagon was easier than the wizard had expected. While a few of the caravan crew were still up and about most seemed to have settled in for the night and none so much as asked him his reason for being there in the predawn darkness. Stepping up to the doorway he found it was unlocked and cracked open. Entering Valeeran was taken aback by the scene inside. Rather than finding a sleeping woman he instead found a group of people, some of them familiar, filling the small wagon. He could sense Skitter coming fully awake and could feel the hair on the creature rising in alarm at the unnerving situation. The harrower herself sat behind her table but seemed much the worse for wear. As soon as he saw the note she held up by way of apology the signs of compulsion became obvious to her. When the final harrowing card touched the table and the portal formed the last thing he heard was Skitters voice, "Well that's not good..."
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Eventually the darkness passed. The elf blinked his eyes to give them time to adjust to the light and to give his head time to stop swimming. [i]"That didn't go so well."[/b] he thought to himself as he rose to his knees. As he did so he was surprised to find that the familiar weight of his backpack was on his shoulders as were his bow, sword and other gear. "Skit you there?" he asked even though his magical attachment to the creature already gave him the answer.
"Ugh..."just need to talk with her then we can sleep" he says" the weasel sarcastically stated.
Putting a hand to the ground the elf allowed his familiar to take his usual perch before taking in his surroundings.
"Scoot over! You're pushing me out of the bed!"
Bleary eyed, Anja finally woke enough to take notice of the man in her bed. "Maybe you should get out." She bolted upright, and looked down at the naive young man. "GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT!" He fell out of the bed with a crash, and scrabbled for his clothes. "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" Still naked, he fumbled with the doorknob for an eternity before he escaped into the hall, most of his clothes collected.
After the door closed, Anja wondered why she was so mad. I ought have a headache I could blame that on. Why don't I have a headache?
The young man in the hallway had gotten one pant leg on, and was balanced putting on the second when the door opened a crack. He flinched, and had to set the undressed leg down to catch his balance. A calmer voice emerged, "What's your name?"
"Tonk."
"I'll look for you again." The door closed, but then opened again. "Sorry about yelling so much. My hangover's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be." This time the door closed and stayed closed.
Anja reached past the bottle of oldlaw whiskey for some water. She sniffed it to make sure. Did I get a Harrowing reading tonight?! Why would I do that? Why aren't I still drunk? It woulda been at that Varisian caravan. Maybe I'll see if I can find that reader - see what she remembers. She became aware that she'd already dressed and put on her armor, and was putting on her weapons. She slung her shield on her back. What do I even care? She gives a dismissive wave at the flask on the nightstand, but changed her mind. If she was going to gear up, she might as well be fully equipped. She finished the drops in the bottom and refilled it from the bottle and was out the door.
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When she came to on the other side of the portal, she had second thoughts about returning to the Harrower's cart. Well, that was stupid. Or witchcraft. Probably witchcraft. She was glad she'd brought (or been compelled to bring) her gear, though. She surveyed the other poor souls sucked into this... other plane?
"I don't suppose any of you know how to undo that witch's magic? No, of course not. Well, at least you don't look like complete rookies. If you're at least somewhat capable, maybe I won't have to carry you all the way home." She puts her hands on her hips and looks at the rest of their surroundings.
Durjaya rose from the earth he tried to sleep upon, finding no rest in the night. He'd tossed and turned and his sackcloth silice was soaked with sweat. Patiently he unfastened the restrictive garb and set it aside.
He kneeled in prayer to Sarenrae and, as he did, lifted his leather crop and set to mortifying his flesh. The tough network of flesh on his back resisted the leather and the bits of bone tied to the ends of the strands.
With his morning prayers taken care of early he rises to his feet and begins preparing for the day. First, the steel celice...
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Durjaya straightened his white tabard to ensure that the symbol of Sreanrae was properly positioned over his breast plate and strode out of the tent provided him by the White Cloaks. He snatched up the haversack that he was required to carry with all of his needed supplies.
He stolled down the trail following his own feet to he knew not where. His duties were not until later that evening and he had time to spare. Perhaps he could find some paupers to feed and heal.
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Durjaya stopped and looked up. He'd been lost in thought, contemplating a particular passage in The Birth of Light and Truth. I see. He says to himself as he can see that he's once again standing before the Harrower's tent.
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Dawnflower, preserve us...
Durjaya stoops down, head still spinning from the trip through the portal, and scoops up the Harrowing deck. I do not. I know little of the magicks of witches.
He stands and looks agape at their surroundings. I... He doesn't even know where to start, Where are we?
Durjaya carries an air of innocence, surprising in one as old as he is. He looks at almost everything with an eye bright with naivete.
When you look around you, apart from seeing the others, you can also see that you appear to be standing in the heart of a circus. According to the banners etc it's called the Midnight Circus. It seems like it was once a place of delights and happy surprises, but right now it appears more corrupted. You can see a tragic collection of dismal, sagging tents and other things you link with disillusioned children’s stories.
Looming tents seem to reach greedily for the overcast sky before their tips curl back down in defeat. Faded paint peels from disused cages and wagons scattered about, while slow organ music drifts through the empty pathways. Nearby, a yawning entry leads into the dark interior of a twisted and massive central tent.
Roleplay up!
And don't forget to read the "Harrow" section of the Campaign Info or in the Discussion tab!
"Somebody's gotta be playing that music. We'll start with them." She looks at the rest of the group. "Alright. Can y'all handle yourselves in a fight, if it comes to it?."
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The voice of a female snapping him out of his confusion, "I can, but should we not introduce ourselves before asking about fighting? Is your blood so enraged you care more about finding someone to hurt than learning about who you have been unwittingly linked to?"
Approaching the woman, he offers his hand, palm up to show no hidden weapons "I am Shan-yu, practitioner of the Empty Mind fighting techniques. My shafts fly true, and fly often."
The broad half-orc rises to his feet and looks to the half-elf. I can carry my weight in a fight if it comes to blows. Goddess willing it doesn't come to that.
Looking about the tattered circus, This place looks too run down to really have much threat left into it...
Shaking the mists from his head he says, Where are my manners. I am Durjaya.
Khar wakes up for the fifth time that evening, drenched in sweat. He shakes his head to himself Not much point in sleeping it seems.... Changing his clothes he gets up and packs up his gear. Earlier in the day having had a harrowing done, he never thought it would cause him this much discomfort. Though he also never thought about being a father himself and having the woman tell him that is what she saw in the cards was quite discomofrting. His thoughts turned, once again back to the harrowing, he lets out a deep sigh What in the world could she have meant about me being a father. I've never even really thought about it, but I mean how could I even do it. I never knew my father. How would I be able to raise a child of my own... not to mention who the heck am I supposed to be having this child with?
Finished packing his gear he decides to seek out the woman and see if she might further illuminate her predictions. Even with his mastery of the arcane, Khar had never been much for divination, always instead having a knack for fire magic, obviously some trace back to his lineage. Perhaps the woman will take one of his trinkets or some other piece of equipment for trade in order to put his mind at ease.
Finding the caravan and the womans dwelling was not too difficult, but he found it odd, the door already open and the noise of others inside. The scene inside was even more grave, the woman, Khars hope for some ease to his troubled thoughts, sitting with some note. Glimpsing at the note Khar realizes too late some magic taking hold as his view of the world fades out while being sucked through the portal.
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As Khar's vision returns he looks around to find himself no longer in the womans dwelling but instead somewhere entirely different. He checks to make sure his belongs are with him before standing to look at around, finding others there as well.
Hearing the others talk he dusts himself off and walks over to them "We'll that is most definitely not what I was expecting..." He looks at the others as they each give introductions. "I'm Khar, and if we must fight I will of course assist, but isn't anyone the least bit curious what in the nine hells just happened?"
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"Knowing what happened does not change that it happened. We are here, sent by some scheme involving Duke Borga. The question I have, is it to hurt the good Duke, or aid him?" then, turning to the half-orc, he adds, "Some of the most dangerous places appear old and run down. The most ancient of evil's rarely reside in the newest of places."
Rising Valeeran wipes off the front of his clothes and absentmindedly checks that his nose isn't broken. Taking in the surroundings he comments, "Well this place has seen better days."
Ignoring the stream of grumpy sounding squeaks issuing from the weasel resting on his shoulders he looks around at the others that seem to have been deposited here. "Is everyone ok?" he inquires. "Anyone have an idea where "here" is? Last I recall I was in the wagon of a Varisan Harrower."
In response to the half elfs questions he responds, "Fight? Oh certainly, phenomenal cosmic power and all that." he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. The last comment accompanied by what seems suspiciously like sarcastic laughter from the small creature.
Seeing the half orc pickup the deck of cards he asks, "Umm, would you mind if I take a look at those?"
The voice of a female snapping him out of his confusion, "I can, but should we not introduce ourselves before asking about fighting? Is your blood so enraged you care more about finding someone to hurt than learning about who you have been unwittingly linked to?"
Approaching the woman, he offers his hand, palm up to show no hidden weapons "I am Shan-yu, practitioner of the Empty Mind fighting techniques. My shafts fly true, and fly often."
Anja ignores the monk's offered hand and regards him with a disgusted look, "I'm about to get enraged. I'm not here to set down roots, and meet the neighbors. The only thing I need to know about any of you are if you're gonna help me find out where we are and how to get back, or if you're just gonna tag along."
"If I was looking for someone to hurt, I'd also want to know who brought us here. Maybe even why. But right now, I really just wanna make sure I don't spend the rest of my years rotting in some obscure 'circus plane'. That's not to say I won't cut down whoever's responsible, if they get in my way."
In response to the half elfs questions he responds, "Fight? Oh certainly, phenomenal cosmic power and all that." he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. The last comment accompanied by what seems suspiciously like sarcastic laughter from the small creature.
Anja huffs, "'Phenomenal cosmic power' but you can't get us back to the 'reality plane'?" She sighs more slowly, but watches with interest as the elf and half-orc look through the Harrow cards.
The weasel squeaks excitedly at the wizard for a moment after which he replies in kind though lacking the excitement. Looking at the people gathered around he explains dryly, "Skit was pointing out the irony that I had been tasked with study of planar binding and travel but instead chose to visit a Varisian caravan and had my fortune read. He's full of such useful bits of observation."
"Anyway I do have a spell that can send one creature back to it's home plane but I don't know that it would work on us here or even that we are on another plan. For all we know we've been teleported, or trapped in a gem or are just all subject to some illusion." Seeing that his extended suppositions aren't making anyone feel better he stops himself. "So about those cards? Oh I'm Valeeran by the way. Nice to meet you all...well circumstances aside as it were."
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Shan-yu lets out an exasperated sigh at Anja's remarks, "Such anger. Do you really think that rejecting the few potential allies you have is the best way to get home? We know who brought us here, and we, at least in part, know why. As Valeeran says, we have no idea if we are on another plane, or just a different part of the world. I am sure all of us wish to return home, and have no desire to set down roots, and meet the neighbors. I think the first step is to learn about our present location, and these cards."
Oh! Certainly. Durjaya hands the cards over. He appears to be careful to avoid touching the elf. Or avoid the elf touching him, it's not abundantly clear.
As the monk and barbarian begin tossing words about, Durjaya shifts his position to one somewhere between the two. Please. I know you both mean well, but this will end only in pain.
He turns to face Anja directly, expecting Shan to be a bit more patient. We will find the trouble in these lands. We will confront it and, if necessary, we will inflict violence upon it.
He swiftly turns to Shan-yu and continues, We will reconnoiter the area and learn all that we can about the lands we are in. First, we need to learn the people that are here and out strengths and weaknesses.
He decides there's nowhere better to start than himself. I wasn an anchorite in quiet contemplation to Sarenrae before being sent out into the world. I do not know what led to my expulsion. I have been very careful in my dealings with the church.
I marched with the white cloaks, but I do not believe that I have much to offer in military prowess. The Dawnflower guides my hand, but she can only mould the clay so much.
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Shan-yu nods as the half-orc begins discussing his skills. ”As I said previously, I am a practitioner of the Empty Mind fighting style. I prefer the use of my bow instead of my fists, and have been known to fire up to 5 arrows in the span of a few heartbeats. I am also fairly skilled at unseen movement and the other tricks associated with those types.”
"I've done a great job of getting to know my new allies. I've already learned that these guys," waving toward the spellcasters and paladin, "are concerned about being teleported against their will to gods-know-where and want to figure out what happened and how to get back. And this guy," indicating the monk archer, "wants to collect useless information about the people who happen to be standing around him. Are you sure you're not a bard? When you go to a tavern, do you feel you need to know the wench's favorite color? You don't. You just need to know what she's serving and, in your case, if she fancies empty-headed archers. Now, why don't you work on a sonnet or something, and let the intellectuals figure out if we were teleported to some other plane that no one in their right mind would ever come to or just to the next town over, which, apparently, no one in their right mind would ever come to."
"We will find the trouble in these lands. We will confront it and, if necessary, we will inflict violence upon it."
"Yeah, no kidding."
After Shan-yu's self-description, Anja Grava goes next, "I'm Anja Grava," she pauses to let it sink in, "I've been known to shrug off 5 arrows in a heartbeat, and finish an archer in the next."
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Shan-yu sighs over the woman’s boast, and lets the barrage of insults slide of him. Clearly this one likes to twist words to her own meaning, and fails to see the wisdom behind them he thinks. ”Very well, if action is all you value, I will scout the surrounding area, and leave the spell casters in the group to determine the nature of the cards.”
With that said, Shan-yu slinks off to the shadows, and becomes one with them.
Khar shakes his head at the back and forth Suppose you can't expect everyone to get along all fine and dandy after being abruptly teleported off to some other place, still my gods...
He'll walk over to the Elf examining the cards and add "I may be able to assist as well. While I've never studied the arcane per-say I've always had a natural knack for it. Mayhaps we can figure out what exactlly happened and how to get out of here."
Moments ago, a human man in his late thirties, dresses in a chef's attire ran from out between one of the smaller tents. He looks beaten up, and four tengus are running after him. The mang is frail looking, and is walking clumsily, and doesn't seem to be able to have any hope of defending himself against his assailants, who seem to be keen on beating the man.
You feel the cards glow against your side.
Two new items added to the GDrive: "tengu" and "midnight circus".
Anja yells at the tengus. More quietly, to her new allies she suggests, "Don't kill them first off. They may have been brought here against their will, too. And for all we know, they found the person responsible."
Valeeran studies the deck of cards for some time often making odd squeaking sounds to "Skit" who sits perched on his shoulders starting at the deck just as intently. The weasel seems to respond in kind from time to time. Finally he looks at the group and says, "Well my guess would be we are on another plane and it seems that these cards are very much bound to it. They're quite powerful and may be of use though we'll need to be careful." As he finishes the statement he seems to ignore his own warning when he nonchalantly riffles the deck, stacks it and then hands it to Khar to examine.
When the man burst forth from the tent Skitter hisses in alarm and the wizard turns his gaze to the commotion. Noting angry flock of Tengu chasing the man he says, "Well that doesn't seem good at all." Looking at the bird like creature in the lead he motions with his hand and then calls out, "You there! Please come tell us why the need for all this fuss."
Khar is doubting slightly.
Valeeran casts one of his magics on the lead tengu...
...which turns around, and runs towards Valeeran.
T2:
"We are trying to beat from him the latest gossip. It's okay, he's used to it."
He smiles sheepishly, and makes ready to run back and continue the chase.
Durjaya is charging forward!
Correct card: The Crows (+2 on all attack rolls, weapon damage rolls, and spell save DCs versus the tengus)
Wrong card: The Beating.
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Shan-yu closes he eyes for a moment, forcing all emotion from his mind and focusing his mind's eye on the target. Drawing the first blunted arrow, he pauses for a moment to make sure the enchant of his weapon is still active in this realm, before unleashing a barrage of attacks at the nearest Tengu.
Durjaya surges forward putting his hips and shoulder into the swing at the tengu. He probably would have heeded Anja's words, or even those of the tengu, if he wsn't already in motion. A half-orc in motion tends to stay in motion...
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1° If you want to do non-lethal (even with blunt arrows) I believe you still take the -4. If you can prove me wrong (link) I'll stand corrected.
2° Technically you need to declare the use of a perfect strike. I'll assume you (will always) use the PS on the last of your flurries, since it's attack value is lower?
Anja chases down the third tengu, drawing her guisarme. She swings at him trying to pull the legs out from under him.
Seeing the others shot into action Khar follows suit, not much for nonlethal he figures one of the others will leave a combatant alive. Straightens his arm, making gestures with his hand and speaking arcane words until he finishes in pointing at a Tengu, where two rays of flame shot forth to strike the creature.
In a few seconds, complete mayhem occurs. While Durjaya charges one and slices him almost in half, an arrow of Shan-yu finishes him off. While Valeeran is talking to one tengu, Khar releases 2 rays simultaneously as Shan-yu unloads the others arrows he was taking. The swipe Anja was taking to level the tengu didn't matter much, as he fell to the floor, knocked-out by the arrows.
The staggered man is looking around, uncomprehensive of what's just happened.
Round 2!
Khar looks about for any other threats.
If nothing is apparent, he will walk over to the last man to check on him "Are you alright, what is going on here?"
Continuing to talk to the Tengu, "Please forgive my friends over exuberance. I'm sure you can understand that we were concerned to see your group chasing the man. You say you were seeking gossip from him, what sort of information did you seek? I'm afraid we're new to this place and so any information you can offer would be of great help. For instance who is in charge here and what's in the large tent there?"
The tengu: "Listen mate, I will tell you all this in a minute arite. I'd really like to get this gossip. Why don't you help me? When we have it I'll tell you everything. I mean, he's going to get away, ya see. Be a lad, help us out?"
He seems hesitant to leave, waiting for you to join him.
"Oh now don't worry about him. As we want to get to the bottom of this I'm sure my friends will detain him." Turning to his new companions he says, "Seems to me we should talk with him as well." and points at the man the tengu had been chasing.
"You there, come tell us why you were being pursued."
The tengu turns towards you, and says: "Hah, good plan. I'll do nothing and your guys knock him over the head. We can get his gossips when he gets to."
The other man shouts from a distance: "Are you crazy? I'm not going near that thing. WHY are you talking with it, these tengus are not nice or anything. But I 'ppreciate you keepin' him busy, I'll leave you guys to it."
He makes some notion of leaving to the west side, slowly because he obviously has some broken ribs.
Anja sheathes her sword. To the old man, she says, "You're injured. Come get some healing. You can tell us where we are. Don't worry, we don't talk with our fists, unless we need to."
Khar steps in front of the man to stop his exit and direct him back toward the others "I think it is wise that you stay with us until we can get this all sorted."
The man calms down a bit, but is still not keen on going nearer to the tengu. He limps a bit to the side, and tries to sit on one of the crates as he almost blacks out from exhaustion.
The tengu to Valeeran: "Good, good, now he sits down.. Then you knock him over the head, right? Or some magic? Maybe something in his coffee? You know, I'm good at hitting people over the head, maybe I should sneak up behind him..."
Durjaya moves to walk with the old man as Khar stops him. He follows to the mans seat and squats beside him. Can I help you, sir? Do you know why they were accosting you?
You notice that due to several injuries and possible head trauma, his speech is staggered, slow and confused.
"You are all nice people..."
Anja leaves the old man to whoever thinks he can help him. She approaches the tengu. "Why do you think you need to beat him to get your gossip? How would he tell us anything if he was knocked out anyway?"
"What about you? Are you from here? Where are you from? What is this place? Have you heard of this Baron whatshisname?" She snaps her fingers impatiently in the direction of Shan-yu, looking for the name that the harrower mentioned.
"Listen lady, I don't need to take none of this crap from you. I'm only here coz my friend is among you, and he promised to help me so I'm returning the favour.
Don't judge me or my way of doing it. It has worked out for a long time..."
He looks you up and down a bit, and says to himself: "Not even a decent beak on her."
Addressing the Tengu, "Don't worry my friend. We have ways of getting our questions answered that are both subtle and effective. Perhaps you could tell us a bit about him and this place to help though? The more we know the better we can extract information."