It's been a quiet week... too quiet. It's almost as if Cairdus has been sacked, shop doors closed and bodies in the streets. Those going out have a furtive look on their faces, as if they'll be next.
The whispers rise in the marketplace. "Plague... strong... I don't know if..."
Cairdus is usually a city of possibilities; all roads lead to Cairdus, they say. With the constant influx of fresh blood and without the strict caste system of some places, thanks to the worship of the goddess Nelleska the Liberator, nobles brush elbows with peasants at the most popular hangouts.
One such place happens to be Laëlynn's tavern, the Dancing Bugbear. Even with attendance dwindling to a record low of just her and Tilted Kirk today, rumours have filtered in from patrons about the unusual plague sweeping the city. The outlook is bleak thus far, with local wizards and clerics yet failing to find a cure.
Tilted Kirk (Kilted Turk, whenever he drinks enough) belches and angles his head to the side. "Jus' you n' me, lady... you n' me. Whatchoo heard about this plague so far?"
"More than I'd like to know... but not enough to make heads or tails of it, TK. Plaques are tricky thing. They come without warning and don't discriminate whom they affect. Could be magic or could be the gods," she shrugs and pulls back her black hair, fastening it behind her with a leather cord.
"You're always one to keep his ears attentive. What have you heard?" She takes his empty mug and draws another ale from the aged cask on the wall behind the bar.
TK shakes his head ruefully. "No more'n you, mistress, sorry to say. Went down to the church today to see what the story is, but they weren't much sure either." He sighs a gusty sigh. "With Leggy Jack n' Cock-eyed Sam out of commission, s'not much of a night, eh? Suppose I'm here more out of habit."
He stares into his drink, face drawn.
There's not much of a reason to keep the place open that night once even Tilted Kirk stumbles home early. A young man, dressed in the garb of a Nelleskan cleric, approaches as Laëlynn closes up.
"Barkeep, this is for you."
He hands her a sealed note, a symbol of a sprouting plant pressed into the wax. It reads:
Mistress Laëlynn,
I have heard you are a person of action with a talent for procuring items. The Church of Nelleska would like to meet with you tomorrow night at moonrise. Should you be unable to attend at that time due to your business commitments, please return a reply with our envoy.
The signature is no more than a scribble, but the stamp of the Church is underneath.
Nelleska is a benevolent goddess, though not much given to rules. The cleric awaiting your reply looks wistfully at the gleaming taps behind the bar.
Laëlynn carefully takes the sealed scroll and looks intently at the seal. The Church of Nelleska? Strange that they would send me a message.
Breaking the seal, Laëlynn considers the note and the prospect of entering a temple for the first time in years. Looks official... can't hurt to see what they want... and business has been slow... I could keep the place closed for the night and have Hadan clean the place real well... with the plague and all, it might be a good idea... he's a good lad... I should teach him to tend the bar... he is friendly enough although he is a bit niave... Focus! focus, Laëlynn.. She looks up at the cleric and grins. ...and this might prove more profitable... ok... wait, I should be careful...
"I suppose they want me to come to the temple?" she asks of the envoy. She'd prefer to have them meet her in her tavern. It feels safer here. But she has always told herself to avoid doing 'business' at the Dancing Bugbear. Without waiting for a reply to her first question, she continues, "And who should I ask for?"
What Laëlynn knows of Nelleska, from her time living in Cairdus, is that she is also called the Liberator and the Free Spirit because of her teaching about happiness, safety, and freedom. Nelleska hates oppression and loves nature. Her symbol is a sprouting plant, and her clerics often take up the bow. The values of Nelleskan followers are often closely aligned with Laëlynn's.
"Yes, please," says the cleric. "Apologies that we cannot accommodate you further, but the church has been very busy with providing relief to those suffering from Hell's Lung. Ask for Father Arden at the church."
"Of course. Please tell Father Arden I will see him at moonrise tomorrow night. Goodnight to you and may Nelleska keep you and protect you in the garden of her heart," Laëlynn replies with a deep bow before returning to wiping down the bar.
Keeping a wary eye on the priest as he leaves, Laëlynn prepares the tavern for a thorough cleaning in the morrow. She wipes down the tabletops with extra vigor before placing the chairs upon it. Her resolve at the job begins to waiver as she half-heartedly sweeps the room, being sure to leave a bit of trash in one corner. all the better to check that Hadan does a good job... this will surely tell me the truth of the matter...
Her thoughts drift to the meeting tomorrow evening. What could they possibly want me to steaaa... um, acquire? I would think it has to do with the plague... perhaps something to heal the people. Or... if they believe that the plague was caused by a deity, it may remove the curse... an artifact of some sort? Unlikely that it's location is known.. or in the possession of someone... could be in the possession of the dead... a crypt? Ugh... I hate undead... supplies! what do I need... maybe holy water... they could surely bless some for me... and so the thoughts go late into the night as she lays in bed. Eventually she drifts into a deep slumber, and with sleep, her illusion fades and the scares return.
When Laëlynn reaches the church the next night, leaving a proud but nervous Hadan manning the bar, she finds it in chaos. People take up all of the benches, prone and moaning as they cough up blood.
Clerics are running around with towels and water. A constant mumble of prayer is on their lips, and many look almost dead on their feet. The messenger from the previous night recognizes Laëlynn and escorts her to the Father's office.
The middle-aged man sitting at the desk looks up and introduces himself as Father Arden. He has thinning brown hair and is dressed in a simple brown robe, the symbol of his order embroidered in green on the chest. He smiles at you and say, “I’ve heard you are a person of action - 'Clank', they call you? I will be brief. You are no doubt aware of the plague Hell's Lung sweeping the city. So far, the only cure seems to be a magic item in the possession of Baron Velstaf, and he uses it only for a price. Now, I don’t want to pass any judgments, but I’ve heard that you have certain... talents for procuring items. If the Star of Olindor were to come into our possession, we would be greatly appreciative.”
Clearly, Father Arden is not much for small chat.
Laëlynn has heard of the Baron before; his men occasionally come to the bar, though not often given the estate's location on the outskirts of the city. He is a powerful noble from a respected family who multiplied his fortune selling weapons and arms during the last war.
Laëlynn laughs out loud. "Clank... yes they do call me that.
"But it is a pleasure to meet you, Father. And again, yes, I have had the opportunity to call in favors to acquire a good many items when the need arises. It certainly helps having friends, especially when you need something as urgent as a cure... I have often called upon many of my friends for assistance... and a brewer, especially one who owns a tavern and pours her brew, seems have an overabundance of friends in troubled times," Laëlynn says with a smile. She turns a bit more serious, "And these days are certainly troubled... it warms my hear to see the service you provide to these people. This plague is nasty!" Laëlynn looks about the sanctuary and grimmaces as she sees the suffering.
"I would like to call you a friend, Father. If that is alright by you. I do anything for friends, just as they do for me. Perhaps one day, I will need a favor that you could provide." Laëlynn again smiles sweetly. She knows a favor owed is worth more than gold. "I will inquire to my friends and see if something can be done for you and your need for this 'star'. What can you tell me of Baron Velstaf? I have yet to have the pleasure of serving him in my tavern."
Hell's Lung is a magical disease that disintegrates the lung, causing extreme fatigue and coughing up blood. The disease is native to evil-aligned planes and rarely found in this world.
Laëlynn knows from general city gossip that the Baron is a powerful noble of a respected family who has risen greatly in fortune in recent times as an arms and weapons supplier during the war. Not all of his dealings have been aboveboard; one of his competitors mysteriously disappeared, and he has been accused of supplying both sides of the war, though no charges were ever laid. In person, he is friendly but ruthless and is thought (particularly by his employees) as being somewhat cruel.
Father Arden snorts. "No, I doubt you'd ever see the likes of Baron Velstaf darkening a tavern door. I haven't had the occasion to talk to him - our letters have gone unanswered. One of my parishioners tells me he's a hard man to work for, cruel and uncompromising when it comes to the bottom line. He lives on the outskirts of town at Whitehall Manor. I know little of what awaits inside the Manor, though I do know the place is guarded.
"You have been in this city long enough to be aware of the tenets of this church, I hope. We are a peaceful order and are trying to obtain the Star to save lives. Please remember that most of the guards and other personnel are innocents just trying to feed their families and try to minimize harm. If any innocents die through your direct action, the deal is off.
"So long as your favour also falls within those boundaries, I would be glad to do what is within my power (which is not insignificant) when the time comes."
"Father, if you've heard anything about me, it's surely that I am a good-hearted person. While, I don't often see eye to eye with the ruling class, my intentions are true. I will look into the matter and see what I can do."
Laëlynn returns to the Dancing Bugbear to find another light crowd for the evening. She greets everyone with a friendly wave and makes sure that each of them feel welcome. She pats Hadan on the shoulder and gives him a nodding approval, "Well done... and thank you."
With what is left of the evening, she spends a little more time with each patron probing for infomationabout the Baron and the Star of Olindor.
Father Arden smiles. He seems a little less on edge than when he introduced himself.
"Very well. Should you require any equipment to safely take down anyone who spots you, the Church has saps that we can offer you. I could even lend you a magical sap of my own with added power." He laughs. "I do know where you work, after all."
His face turns grave. "You may also need this potion of cure moderate wounds, though I will pray that you will not."
He clasps Laëlynn's hands in his as she takes the potion. "The situation grows more dire every day, and the Baron is a dangerous man. Let me know if you would like me to reach out to any of my parishioners working in the manor. Luck be with you, and Nelleska bless you on your quest."
____
Hadan beams. "My pleasure, Mistress. Just... um... if anyone mentions the parrot, don't believe a word they say!"
A clamor of good-natured protests ("a beautiful tap-dancer, that one!") arises at that. One night gone and Laëlynn's already missed something; how quickly things move in a tavern sometimes!
No one seems to know anything new about Baron Velstaf.
The tavern is graced by Professor Thail Donnodol tonight, an expert in the civilization of Olindor. His eyes brighten when he hears Laëlynn asking around, and he makes a space for her between him and his son, Servian. Servian does not seem thrilled by the intrusion until he gets a good look at Laëlynn.
"The legend goes," says Thail, "that the Star is one of several objects crafted centuries ago by heroes of the city of Olindor that were supposed to keep the city strong if they remained together. The treasures have scattered to the four winds now that Olindor has fallen." He chuckles. "There have been some heated debates over which one caused the other! I was there, and I couldn't even tell you. The Star of Olindor provides light, can cast restoration, and provides immunity against poison and disease, which can be bestowed upon others as a blessing. If only it wasn't in the hands of a certain warlord...
"After all, anyone who wields the Star has the power of healing. It's nothing to do with the Baron himself except his ability to fork over a lot of cash for a priceless elven relic! Hmph. Artefacts have no business being in private hands."
"What has you so interested in the Star?" Servian wants to know. He smiles at her.
Laëlynn eyes to potion for a moment, then gives it a good smell. "Thank you, Father. I certainly hope this won't be needed... but, you can never be too cautious, I suppose. And, well, I would think the magical sap could come in handy in a pinch. If you wouldn't mind loaning it to me, I would be grateful."
_______
Laëlynn raises an eyebrow at Hadan when the parrot is mentioned. "I don't wanna know," she chuckles as she gives him a dismissive wave of her hand and turns to mingle with the nightly crowd.
As she makes her way around the tavern inquiring into the activities of her patrons, she spies the Professor. "Evenin', Professor," she says as she takes a seat, her hand momentarily resting on Servian's shoulder. "Oh, my interest is only out of curiosity. I was at the temple of Nelleska tonight... there is much suffering these days..." Laëlynn says nonchalantly to Professor Thail as she turns toward Servian.
"... I was reminded of two of the Baron's henchmen that frequent the Dancing Bugbear... they are the... well, it seems... I, um... ohhh" she stammers as she places her hand back on Servian's upper arm, giving it a good squeeze. "sorry..." she smiles awkwardly. Regaining her composure, Laëlynn continues, "the Baron's men were talking amongst themselves, and one of them mentioned the Star of Olindor. I know very little of Olindor and even less about its relics, but I had heard about its healing powers... I'm was sure you would know much more about it than I did, and it looks like I was right!" Laëlynn pauses and waits for the professor to offer any more information.
Servian's question stemmed from being protective of his father, though he also seems genuinely interested in what Laëlynn has to say.
"I'm sure I would know more were I able to see the Star," says Thail. "I went to Whitehall Manor to inquire about the artefact, but I was turned away! The place is heavily guarded, and only those with a letter of summons from the Baron are allowed through the gates." He looks disconsolate.
"I'm sure he'll respond to your letters soon, Father," says Servian.
"As do I, Thail. Enjoy your evening," with a parting nod, Laëlynn leaves their company.
As the evening passes into night and the tavern's patrons wander off to their homes, Laëlynn closes up shop then heads to the backroom she uses as her home. She dons her gear and slips out through the window into the night. She heads toward Whitehall Manor staying in the shadows as best she can. She stops within 100 yards of the manor to survey their defenses from a safe distance.
Whitehall Manor is a large manor house without any nearby neighbours, surrounded by a 10-foot tall stone wall. The style of architecture is elegant and not overly complicated. The gently sloping roof is broken by two small tower-like rooms at opposite corners of the house. A plume of smoke drifts from the chimney.
The house sits around 20 feet back from the wall. No guards are present at the locked gates.
Well... since no one seems to be guarding the gate... a closer view seems appropriate. Laëlynn thinks to herself. She sneaks up to the wall a good distance from the gate, and silently climbs to the top of the wall. Keeping herself prone atop the wall, she surveys the house further.
Laëlynn's attempt to climb the 10-foot wall is unsuccessful.
From her position, she can hear the occasional growl from the other side.
Ok, Laëlynn, looks like you need some climbing gear... and it sounds like dogs over the wall... hmm, not good.
She takes a moment and surveys the wall better looking for any handholds or other aids.
From her vantage point on top of the wall, Laëlynn can see a grassy courtyard through the dim light of torches at the front entrance of the house. An entrance on the west side of the house is also visible. Clustered up against the house are a number of shrubs and small gardens of flowering plants. In the eastern corner are a barn and some storage sheds. To the north is a separate two-storey building, also lit by torches at the entrance.
Laëlynn hears a loud growl below her in the courtyard.
Laëlynn slips off the wall on to the ground outside the courtyard. Picking up a rock, she throws the rock over the wall and away from the main gate in an attempt to lure the animal away if but for a moment. Hustling back to the gate, she gives it a good check for any locks or traps while listening for the sounds of the returning beast.
[ooc]No knowledge of engineering. :(
The rock appears to distract the dog, and it scuffles off, barking furiously. Other dogs, further off, bark back. They sound like they're moving towards the dog Laëlynn distracted. The light of a torch flickers through the front window of the house soon after.
There are three visible entrances - the main entrance, a side entrance, and a cellar door. It's possible Laëlynn could scale the walls of the house, but not without climbing gear and a lot of luck.
Well... seems I need some gear and a few other items to infiltrate this place...
After checking the gate carefully, Laëlynn spends a few minutes watching the house and the torch light within. She looks for any other guards or people moving about the property. After being sure, that she has seen enough, she retires back home for the remainder of the night to rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.
The gate is locked and barred.
The torch light comes closer, and a guard appears in the window, yawning and peering out in the direction of the dogs' barking. The light retreats, and the guard comes out the front door and towards the dogs.
When she sees the guard coming to the door, Laelynn ducks behind the wall and in the shadows.
Laëlynn, feeling she's seen enough for the night and has a good sense of the perimeter defenses, slinks back into the shadows and heads back to the Dancing Bugbear.
I'm going to need some meat... lots of meat... that should distract the dogs... and maybe some sleeping agent, perhaps there is some substance that could make the dogs sleep. I could add it to the meat. I'll need to talk with the alchemist... Oh, and climbing gear. I'll need some of that as well. Laëlynn goes over her shopping list during the trip home.
The town is still fairly quiet the next day, but Laëlynn is able to find what she needs.
The alchemist recommends a poison such as blue whinnis, Drow poison, or Oil of Taggit.
Having picked up a climber's kit, Laëlynn swings by the Dancing Bugbear and gathers up a sack full of fresh meat. She happily serves her customer's for the evening, even spending a little time with some of the regulars in a game of darts in the back corner. She lost, of course on purpose, and passed out a round of ale to the victor... on the house! By midnight, the tavern had cleared out, so she sent Hadan home and then suited up her gear and grabbed the meat. Hopefully, this will keep those dogs busy.
Returning to the manor, Laëlynn kept to the shadows and approached the wall from the west and listened for the dogs.
Unsure whether the dogs were present, the elven rogue tossed the meat over the wall hoping to attract their attention. Having tossed all 20 lbs of meat for a canine feast, she made her way around the complex to the eastern side to find a spot to climb the wall.
As Laëlynn approaches the east wall, moving away from the everburning torches on the main gate, she finds it harder to make anything out clearly.
Ok, Laëlynn... can't let these dogs see you or the game is up. Before you climb, listen for the dogs...
Laëlynn stands still and tries to quiet her mind. Having found that sense of peace that so often eludes her, she listens to the wind and feels it flow across her cheek. She listens again... to the rustling of the leaves. She hears them clearly, but puts them aside and the sound fades to the background. Laëlynn then takes a deep breath and relaxes into the night. She focuses for the sound of a dog and listens...
Believing that none have found her, she tries to climb the wall.
But she fails to make it up the sheer, smooth surface. You really need to spend some more time practicing climbing. Laëlynn shakes her head at herself.
Deciding the next best option is to pick the lock at the gate and sneak in that way, the rogue keeps to the shadows and approaches the main gate.
Squatting down before the gate, she pulls out her trusty lockpicks and goes to work.
Laëlynn could swear she almost has the gate, but then her pick slips. A flicker through the cracks of the gate makes it look like it's barred, anyway.
Realizing that even a disabled lock may not open the gate, the rogue emits a low growl in frustration. I guess I'll need to scale this wall afterall. She retreats around the western side of the complex and finds a tree. Lashing her rope about the tree, she appproaches the wall and once again attempts to climb it.
Lying flat along the top of the wall, she coils up the loose end of her rope and lowers the end of the rope down withn 6' of the ground. She slinks off the wall and, keeping to the shadows, makes her way to the manor house all the while looking about the grounds for any dogs or other patrols.
Laëlynn makes it over the wall undetected. She sees two dogs across the yard as she makes her way to the house but manages to stay far enough upwind to remain undetected.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Laëlynn looks for any lights or movement inside the house. Then, makes her way towards the door furthest from the them. She carefully listens at the door, then checks to see if the door is locked.
There are flickers of lights at the front of the house, but no lights in any nearby windows. There are no doors along the west side of the house. When Laëlynn heads towards the back of the house, away from the lights, she notices a door at the far back corner. There is a simple lock on the door.
Laëlynn creeps up to the door and pulls her lockpicks from her pouch. She smiles as she releases the thin strap that binds the rolled leather case holding the masterwork tools. How long ago was it that Findolfier, the master thief aboard the Rabid Weasel, had given them to her as a gift. Her thoughts then drifted to the ring on her finger, the one she stolen from the captain's locked safe as a final training exercise. She had fully expected Findolfier to make her return it, but the old thief was just that, a thief.
She focused in on the lock and gently slid the tools in place. She felt the tumblers and was about to gingerly release the lock when her hand nearly slipped. I should train more often... my skills aren't as sharp as they should be.
Laëlynn is focused on the lock when one of the dogs comes from behind and charges at her with a low growl. It attempts to bite her but misses, snapping its jaw on thin air.
Laëlynn nimbly dodges the guard dogs attack and draws her blade. Feinting to one side she attempts to get the dog off balance, then slashes at the canine with deadly precision.
The dog does not take its attention off Laëlynn, ruining the aim of her attack, but she still manages to knock it out. It slumps over with a whimper.
Worrying that the dog's attack may bring unwanted attention her way, Laëlynn surveys the grounds again, then looks to the manor for any signs of new lights or movement.
Convinced that everything is fine, she turns her attention back to the lock to see if she completed her work from earlier.
The door is still locked . No one seems to be coming.
Light streams from a door leading further into the house into the room Laëlynn enters. The room is filled with cooking paraphernalia, including a wood burning stove, an oven, and many utensils. In one corner, there is a trap door in the floor.
Laëlynn tiptoes over to the trap door and presses her ear to it. Slowly drawing a breath, she holds it a moment and listens carefully.
Laëlynn hears someone clearing their throat somewhere outside the room. There might be another person further away as well. Besides the north door she entered through, there are interior doors along the south and northeast walls.
The room she hops down into is filled with many crates, and barrels. Much of the area is filled with dried food goods, while other areas are filled with useful items such as ropes or gardening tools, and bolts of cheap fabric.
Laëlynn checks a few of the crates and barrels... probably just miscellaneous provisions and then scampers up the trapdoor to the storage room. She checks the doors to see if any are locked. Slowly, she opens the door on the northeast wall.
The screaming is coming from the storage room level.
Laëlynn finds a sickle, a 50-foot lengths of hemp rope, and a crowbar in her cursory search of the storage area, but nothing else of interest.
The room Laëlynn enters is large, with a massive oak table down the center surrounded by chairs. Tapestries depicting glorious battles hang on the walls. The room is otherwise empty. There is another door to the southeast, at the far end of the room.