Beyond Fort Horizon (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

So the way I imagine it Ritmush is an occasional visitor to Mystic valley.
Trading mysteriously internally burned fish, partially exploded wolf pelts and odd trinkets he finds or makes in the forest for quality food and camping supplies.
He also has a habit of telling disturbingly believable tall tales to the various kids in town and is loved by them.
As such he is also disliked by many of those same children's parents for filling their heads with various types of madness.
He pays in full though and leaves before his presence becomes too burdensome.
Mystic valley folk would likely know he has no real home and through some form of trickery has managed to live in the forests without dying. Some even like him, 'Beard-y guy' as ritmush calls him a mystic that lives outside town has bore the brunt of his bored questionings and would likely know him best out of all the towns folk.

Ritmush walks down the center square of town humming under his breath
"Oh I love bacon, bacon is so great...hrrrmm hrm hrm hmmm hrm hmmhr I forgot tha' resta' tha' words." Fortunately rather than making random passer-by's suffer his off key humming he turned his head and realized he was already here. Windel's or as ritmush liked to think Meat Heaven. He pops his head into the small shop cheerily
"Oh meatlord! I send my greetings and salutations and lots of other things. I require moar meat!" the young one states before following his head and wandering into the shop full of various meaty wonders. "Don't s'pose ya's still have somea' tha' bacon left? I mighta' shared it with a few crazy guys in tha' woods an'run out." The young one states nodding to himself. "Oh an' yanno if the general general has any climbing gear in? think I might need some fer' mah next adventure. Oh and something that distracts bears. Bigger hunk of meat probably."
The young one states as he looks down at his feet and considers further
"Hrmm.. bet owls like meat too, nothing can resist bacon.

"Well, lets get this wagon delivered. Who is with me?"

Day 5, Mystic valley (approximate time of day, 5:40 pm, near sunset)

As Unbolath prepares to lead the wagon down the middle of the street, Agent Hughes and Agent Danvers both exchange significant glances, before they nod toward Unbolath and fall in behind the wagon. Calliope moves to the side of the wagon.

Ritmush wanders into a general store and asks about “meat.” The proprietor of the shop, a Mister Johnson (he is a middle aged human male with a full head of dark black hair and a neatly trimmed beard, he is an imposing fellow with a barrel shaped chest and huge muscled arms) laughs and welcomes “beardy” to the shop and offers him a wrapped package of salted, dried bacon, saying, ”Been saving this just in case you showed up again. It came from the last hog in the town and I’m afraid there won’t be any more until the Towerman’s sow brings forth another litter. And then it will be at least half a year before them hogs are fit to slaughter. It’s good to see you standing in one piece still, Ritmush Wanderer. Folks in town were beginning to wonder if you finally slipped off a cliff somewhere, or worse. How long are you going to be staying this time? Oh, climbing gear? No, don’t have anything like that. Got some strong rope still, maybe two hundred feet of that half inch cotton rope imported from Fort Horizon, if your interested in that.”

Valind, Sithundan and Portia follow the wagon, looking down at the ground, each lost in their own thoughts.

Rolandor excuses himself and leaves the group, heading toward the town’s only hotel.

Thikka, being distracted by the shoemaker’s obvious ignorance, realizes the wagon is moving away, and watches it for a moment, wondering if she should follow it or not.

Droka finds himself being shadowed by Calliope, who asks him

What’s your story, handsome?

The office of the WEAC is at the end of the street. It is a wide, single story building with a prominent sign. When the Wagon comes to a stop in front of the building, a young halfling boy, who was sitting on a pail peeling potatoes on the covered porch of the building, jumps up and darts inside, and immediately two Dwarves come out of the bu8ilding with the halfling boy right behind them.

The dwarves are a male and a female. The male is young, for a dwarf. He is clean shaved (which seems oddly fitting for his round face). He wears a simple grey suit. The female is probably a little older than the male. She is attractive, for a dwarven female, with red hair pulled into a bun on her head, an oval shaped face with freckles on her cheeks, and she also wears a simple grey suit.

The male dwarf seems dumbstruck, shocked even, when he sees the wagon, but the female simply approaches Unbolath and holds out her hand saying,

Welcome to Mystic Valley’s office of the WEAC. Can I help you find something? My name is Brenda Carvol, and my associate is William Henderson. We weren’t expecting…

Before she can finish Mr. Henderson rushes forward and shoves her to the side saying, in a rush, Expecting you so soon, so soon. I had thought it would be the end of the week. Yes, yes, the end of the week at least. Ahem, won’t you come inside and let me take a look at the paperwork and see if everything is in order.

Brenda, tilts her head to the side and stares blankly at Mr. Henderson

Thikka rubs her muzzle, and then shrugs and moves off. Trailing after the wagon, but far enough behind it that she might just be moving off in the same direction, rather than following it. Given how most of the convoy split up upon reaching town, that wouldn't be unusual. She watches the dwarves as they interact with the convoy, but from a distance.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

"Mr. Henderson here are the papers to be signed. Can you elaborate on the original schedule? I want to give a full report to Major Finchley on my return. He will be interested in any deviations regarding initial expectations. Ms. Carvol, We can also discuss the matter." Unbolath gazes at them both evenly with his black pupilless eyes. He shifts slightly as the chains wrapping about him clank heavily. "I will also obtain the signatures of the interested elven party who accompanied us on the journey as well as the Johansen family. From my perspective everything is in order aside from an issue with one of the cows."

Ritmush nods at the man when he directs him to the rope and bacon "Buh, if its tha'last bacon 'm gonna have to ration it..." Ritmush states with a sense of sadness in his eyes "well you know me well Meatlord, I'll jus' hafta cut back on mah' favorite meat so I don' runout for a while. Maybe I can get one'ah them forest boars, they're pigs well pigs with pointy teeth but still... He states as he strokes his imaginary beard and attempts to ponder the concept of boars not being pigs, this only lasts for a few moments. " Anyway, yeah I'll take tha' bacon an tha' rope ye've got. Think this next bit might require it. Oh an if ya've gottn' a rain proofed lantern in since last I'd be glad ta' have one ah' those as well. one'ah tha'fiddly ones with all tha diffrent slide an' panels an such. Well unless havin' a ghost near me lets meh'see in tha' dark. That'd be good."
The youth states waiting for the pricing and already considering his arguments for a better one. Half the fun with coming to town, haggling. Like making stories out of thin air that got you cheap bacon and knives because of some imagined ding or scratch.

Minerva hung near the back of the pack, as always, Taking in the sights and sounds of the town.. Walking with Mule in tow, and generally just observing, taking mental notes of what was said, what emotions ran high, what occurred.

It became clear, as she listened to Unbolath talk, that things were swiftly going to be about Paperwork.

Instead, she decides to Head back.. towards Thikka

She decides to follow old instincts, and does her best to approach unnoticed before calling the rat-woman's attention with a gentle cough.

Stealth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

*edit*=Holy s!%@, Nat 20. X3
Minerva is the Best at stealth.

Portia stares at the ground, trying to comprehend everything that has happened...in a mere 24 hours time. Dopplegangers, cows are people, strange other-worldly beings here to watch over "alien" technology. I should put it out of my mind and worry about matters at hand.

Portia follows, in silence to the WEAC office to deliver the goods. She smiles at Ms. Carvol and Mr. Henderson. She lets Unbolath talk, as she feels awkward being in the city.

Issabelle sits perched on her shoulder, squawking every now and again. She looks around, taking in the various sights of the office.

When Calliope asks for his story, Droka pauses for a minute, waves his hands, and mutters a few words. A lute appears in his hands. Then, resuming his trek towards the WEAC office, he begins strumming and singing about how boring the Shadow Plane was and how he hatched a plan to come to the Material Plane in search of real music. Once he and Calliope reach the WEAC office, he waits on the rest of the party before entering, allowing Umbolath to do most of the talking.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

Thikka freezes as she watches the WEAC building, and eyes the dwarves suspiciously. She looks over her shoulder at Minerva, and motions toward the WEAC building and dwarves, and then steps into the shadows of another building herself, where she can still observe but talk to Minerva without being as noticeable.

Stealth: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

"What's up girl?" She says softly, still eyeing the dwarves.

Minerva warily followed Thikka into the alley, her footsteps silent and fluid as a dancer's shadow. She considered kneeling, examining the alley's mud with a critical eye, quickly deciding that her dignity was worth far less than what she could learn here.
Stepping gracefully to rest softly on a knee, Minerva brought out a few parchments, the ones covered with symbols, and her sketch of the orb.
"I didn't want to mention this to anyone I didn't trust, but these symbols."
She pulled off a glove, showing off her thorny tattoos and the symbols between the brambles.
"My people all know of them, have them enscribed upon our skin to save what little remains.." She faltered, turning her arm to show the other side ..and the language they used to represent before the cataclysm destroyed our homeland, the meaning became lost with time.

She held a parchment in each hand "but that sphere, the symbols on it were the most complete set I have ever seen, or even heard of. There were words, a structure, a sentence!"

Her attitude had grown exuberant, and for then she didn't care that her hood had fallen down, though her tone was still soft for stealth reasons her mouth had broken out into a small smile.

"However, for their true meaning to become known would require a casting, of the Comprehend Languages spell. Minerva finished, smiling as much as she would allow herself at Thikka.

Thikka nods. "I can cast it when I'm not busy watching lying dwarves." She nods at the WEAC dwarves. "Surprised as all get out to see wagons. They didn't expect us. I think we found the ones that old us out." She spits on the ground. "I'm thinking reading ancient runes should be done in private, soon as we find a place to stay, ya?" The wizened little rat says, eyeing Minerva with one red eye. "Never know, might be something you want to keep quiet like. Then again, it might just say 'Sale on Beans'. We'll hope for something more meaningful though, ya?"

Minerva tilts her head in a slight nod something ticking over in her mind.
"I'm not quite expecting the translated 'Prophecies of Azmodeus' Thikka, I can only hope it will help me unlock my race's forgotten history. That said, Privacy would be best." She rolled the parchments up and stowed them carefully away.

She followed the rat's eye towards the dwarves and nods again, hood coming up to cover her head "as to them, I do mislike being lied to.
I find myself pondering on the possibilities of a back-door and an unguarded office..." For a moment, only for Thikka's eyes, a pearl handled lock-pick danced along Minerva's slim fingers before vanishing once more.

Day 5, Mystic valley (approximate time of day, 5:40 pm, near sunset)

It’s getting darker, shadows are getting long, the temperature is starting to drop…

As Thikka arrives just in time to see a Dwarf, who must be Mister Henderson, approaching Unbolath, and speaking to him about the wagon

When Unbolath presents the papers, Brenda snatches them away from Mister Henderson’s reach. And her face takes on a serious, somewhat angry expression.

She says to Unbolath

Naturally I will want to review this in detail. I was unaware of any deliveries scheduled Mister, I’m sorry I didn’t get your name, with what appears to be practiced and precise knowledge of these kinds of contracts, Brenda flips to the correct page, scans it quickly and then goes on, I assume you must be one of the human’s listed on this document, most likely you are not Portia, unless I am making an unfair characterization, and that would leave Derrick or Unbolath. There is a warehouse behind this building, and if I can trouble you to deliver the wagon, and the animals to Mister Jackson at the warehouse, where it will be secured until this contract is reviewed I would appreciate it. If, however you have other pressing matters I will have Mister Henderson move the wagon to the warehouse. She continues to quickly scan the document and then says, Yes there does seem to be a discrepancy regarding the number of animals referenced here. I will review the contract in detail. If you will see to it that the wagon is brought to the warehouse and then join me in the office we’ll settle the matter promptly. She then turns as if she is determined to go back into the office here on the street.

meanwhile…

Mister Johnson tells Ritmush that he doesn’t have any lanterns for sale right now, as there is a shortage of them in town. He goes on to explain that a short, rat-kin kind of humanoid came in a few days ago and purchased the last two lanterns he had in the store.

Anything Ritmush buys here, will cost 30% more than the listed price from the prd. He has rope, and the bacon is free. Mister Johnson will mention that some trinket found by Ritmush and left behind at some time in the past was sold to the rat woman and that should cover the cost of the bacon.

Portia hears her name being spoken by the Dwarven woman, and when she looks that direction, Brenda gives her a nod and a smile

Droka’s performance delights Calliope, so much so that she suddenly brightens up, and looks all around the town before she whispers to him

to Droka

Say, why don’t we go check out that saloon over there. You can play and sing, and I’ll dance as she speaks her form changes right before Droka’s eyes and she becomes more voluptuous, her hair gets thicker and darker, and her face becomes softer, lips fuller, eyes wider.I bet between the two of us we could make a little bit of money while we wait to see what these friends of yours are going to do next. Unless you need to be there when they go over that contract the dwarf woman was talking about.

Portia will smile back at the woman, when she sees her smile. I sure hope we get the money owed to us and they don't want to alter the contract. Valind would know what to do...I hope he is okay wherever he is.

Portia, looks around the office to see what good are for sale, seeing if anything piques her interest.

Portia, when told about needing to deliver the goods to the back warehouse, looks to Unbolath, and simply nods. Unless she is stopped, she will head outside and begin to get the bovines to the back warehouse.

Ritmush frowns slightly at the news but takes it in stride. "well mebe' she's willing tah let meh buy one of them off her plus i nevah saw a rat person before. Were weasels, n' were-cows buh' no rats. Yanno where she is meatlord?" ritmush ask eyes drifting to the bacon package.

"I am Unbolath, though no one has ever mistaken me for human. As my team mate Portia will be dealing with the wagon and livestock, I am free to join you immediately in the contract review. I can answer any questions as needed. The contract which is also the method that I and my associates receive payment, stays in my presence. I trust that this will be no issue."

Unbolath strides along side Brenda following her in to the office. " Mr. Henderson, I believe Portia may have a few questions for you."

Droka intuitively blends into the shadows cast by the buildings. He calls to his companions, "I trust you all have this under control; if you need us, Calliope and I will be at the saloon." Sense of duty somewhat mollfied, Droka places his arm around Calliope and says, "Let's go.". They walk into the saloon, and Droka looks around for somebody who looks to be in charge. Droka walks up to the person in question and says, "Hello! I am Droka, and this is Calliope. I am a performer of sorts; she is one of the most magnificent dancers it has ever been my pleasure to meet. Would you be interested in retaining our services for the entertainment of your patrons?"

Day 5, Mystic valley (approximate time of day 6:00 pm, sunset-ish)

As Portia moves the wagon to the east, looking for the first opportunity to turn south and look for this “warehouse” that was mentioned, Mr. Henderson joins her. He is quiet, but appears nervous. When Portia comes to the end of the street, she guides the bull to the south, and as soon as the wagon rounds the corner, Mr. Henderson starts yelling at Portia

Are you people out of you minds!You were supposed to kill those idiots from Fort Horizon and take the wagon to the prison. Did you really think I could be bribed to double cross Drespor! Drespor!

The dwarf is pacing back and forth waving his hands at Portia

Minerva and Thikka have a chance to over hear this rant. Even though they are a few buildings away. The DC to hear him, a Perception Check, is 14

Mr. Henderson is certainly no threat to Portia, but suddenly he comes at her pointing his finger and speaking a bit lower, Look, you. I’m not getting my head served to those dragon men in the prison. The woman, Carvol doesn’t know anything she arrived unannounced to conduct an audit of my books a week ago, and I’ve jumped through flaming hoops to keep these transactions out of her hands.

His voice then goes up as he throw both hands up in the air

And you, you idiot, bring the wagon here thinking you can demand more for your work.

He puts both hands on the top of his head and takes a deep breath. Alright, alright. Your friend is going to screw things up permanently, so that leaves me no choice but to kill the woman. I’ll give you and your friends another ten percent, and a thousand more for getting rid of the auditor, TONIGHT! She likes the saloon, and goes there every night to play bridge with the other idiots in this town. Get her alone, and get rid of her. I’ll check the goods and get them ready to move to the prison tomorrow. And then,

He points at Portia again I never want to see your face again. Criminals like your kind are the worst employees imaginable.

Meanwhile…

The proprietor of the saloon, a tall slender human woman, tells Droka

Mister you have got to be the luckiest man alive. My name is Erin Winters, but people call me Miss Ellie. We’ve got a group of miners just came back to town from Flake Ridge, about eight of them, and they were in here last night and nearly tore the place down. If you can keep that group relaxed and entertained. You can keep all the money they’ll throw on the stage, and I’ll even give you ten percent of the sales of all the drinks they buy. The stage is over there she points to a wall below a balcony where there are tables on a second floor of the saloon, and there’s a small room through that door on the side where you can change if you need to. I figure as soon as it’s dark them guys and gals will wake up after sleeping off last night’s row, and they’ll be here soon.

And in the office…

Unbolath notices that the office is plain, unadorned and simple. There are three desks, and six chairs.

Brenda asks Unbolath to have a seat, and tells him

You’re not human. Well, sir I apologize. I’ve only been on this God’s forsaken continent for a few weeks, and I am still learning about the things here.

When Unbolath mentions his concern about the contract, she gets a curious look on her face, almost as if she has discovered something she was suspicious of all along

You are concerned about me taking the contract out of sight she says with a smile and why is that? Tell me, have you encounter some unusual behavior, regarding a WEAC contract in the recent past? I’m very curious about this sort of thing. Let me tell you. It is not something the WEAC takes sitting down. Corruption seems to be out of control in this backwater. And I am to put an end to it.

"I am only a recent hire, selected not long ago to accompany the wagon and its contents to this locale. Some in the party have more knowledge of related events prior to my arrival should your investigation require more information than I can provide. Regarding the journey here; on the way we were attacked by a ragtag band of criminals, poorly disguised, attempting to steal the wagon's contents and deliver them to their boss, a dwarf named Karl Drespor. The captured criminals and several of my travel companions mentioned some knowledge of Karl in association with the 'company'. According to the prisoners, the company takes these people and uses them as disposable fodder in experiments or sells them as slaves. While there were more travelers among us initially, some departed before our arrival here, along with the criminals who survived the battle, but those of us who remain, conclude that the contents of the wagon were never intended to arrive here safely. As the ambush failed, Drespor will have to change his plans. The Captain of the Fort is smuggling strange artifacts as regular goods and selling them off. He has a contact here that is facilitating the sale. Perhaps Mr Henderson is the contact. It is unclear to me how they are connected with Drespor. If they are on concert or not. If so, why would Drespor attempt to waylay the wagon? My associate Portia may have additional information regarding prior events."

"If I have misjudged this conversation, and you in fact are the contact, things will of course go very poorly."

doth mine ears deceive me?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

*edit*apparently yes, I am deceived.

...

"If I have misjudged this conversation, and you in fact are the contact, things will of course go very...

Agent Hughes drops her head and places her hand on her forehead.

Rithmush walks out of the shop with the bacon and his rope, heading to the tavern. He goes dead still for a moment and looks concerned "Yanno, I get the distinct feelin' somethin' important happened, and it will result in much zany antics. I feel jus'a bit insulted I wasn't invited. Meh whatever, find out later I guess."
Looking around Ritmush shrugs and finishes his walk over to the Tavern pushing the door open and talking at the same time.
" Garrr! I beh requirin' mehself a drink o'some variety I say. Oh fine preveryor ah drinks can ye offer me such a fine thing? Oh an' I'm lookin fer a ratperson apparently, she bought all the lanterns tha' rat... well rat something I guess. Know where she migh' be? need ta put on tha'charm an' get meh a lantern."

Unbolath wrote:

...

"If I have misjudged this conversation, and you in fact are the contact, things will of course go very...

Agent Hughes drops her head and places her hand on her forehead.

I had to add that because Unbolath can't trust anyone and is somewhat paranoid, and is also not the most suave guy around. Probably not the one who should really be talking, because he just says whatever is on his mind. He thinks he is polite and then just says stuff like that. Also I realize it seemed to come off as a threat, when really it was more of a 'oh well if thats the case I just babbled a bunch of stuff that you already know or shouldn't know that we know.' But I figure it works either way.

...

He puts both hands on the top of his head and takes a deep breath. Alright, alright. Your friend is going to screw things up permanently, so that leaves me no choice but to kill the woman. I’ll give you and your friends another ten percent, and a thousand more for getting rid of the auditor, TONIGHT! She likes the saloon, and goes there every night to play bridge with the other idiots in this town. Get her alone, and get rid of her. I’ll check the goods and get them ready to move to the prison tomorrow. And then,

He points at Portia again I never want to see your face again. Criminals like your kind are the worst employees imaginable.

Portia escorts the cows to the back warehouse, and is startled when Mr. Henderson starts to yell at her. She listens intently, and when he starts to confess or indulge her in whatever nefarious schemes are already in motion, she does her best to stay stone-faced and let him think she is, who she wants her to be. She wants to get as much information out of the man as possible, to hopefully let him "hang" himself on his own words.

bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 10

Awaiting an opposed roll if needed before I post more reaction/non-reaction of Portia, hope that's okay Terq?

A huge smile crosses Droka's face. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Ellie. That offer sounds more than fair to me. Assuming my companion agrees," he looks over at Calliope for confirmation, "we shall begin preparing immediately; between the two of us, we should be able to mitigate the consequences of serving alcohol to miners." As he waits for Calliope to comment, Droka wracks his brain for whatever scraps of information about Flake Ridge he might have run across in his travels, as well as what sorts of music miners might prefer.

Dice Rolls, if needed:

Knowledge (geography): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

From those rolls, I'd say Droka should sing the 'I hate miners' song. XD

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
Perception, pierce Portia's Bluff: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

Thikka reads the lips of the dwarf, and watches Portia's surprise being clamped down on.

"I think that may be wise, my dear. The dwarf is yelling at Portia, he seems to think she's a criminal who was supposed to deliver the wagon into the hands of the bandits. Although Portia seems to have no idea what he's talking about. The dwarf has been hiding the books from the female who went in with Unbulath, who is here to investigate him. This Mr. Henderson seems to be working for Dragon Men in the prison..." She looks up at Minerva. "Do you think you could get us into the offices from the back, so that this Mr. Henderson doesn't see us? Then we can talk to his overseer? I'm sure he has hidden books in his office, in a safe or other hidey hole. Let us enlist the aid of his overseer, whom he dispises, while he is busy confessing his sins to Portia."

Ritmush taps his foot as he looks at the barman and frowns muttering under his breath "Don' 'spose yah can light people on fire Diana? migh'get this ones attention."

"I think it would be within my skills, yes" Minerva smiled genuinely, standing up and patting a little mud from her knee-pads.

Her smile faltered a teeny bit "For as long as I can maintain the illusion though, Thikka, I'd prefer if my less /legal/ talents are kept hidden from the others."

Day 5, Mystic valley (approximate time of day 6:00 pm, sunset-ish)

In the Saloon…

Droka, having absolutely no knowledge of the local customs or geography, shrugs when he tries to imagine what the local miners might like, and Calliope reassures him that lively music, and provocative, but respectable dancing are generally well received in most parts of the world. The two then find the small, closet like space next to the stage, and begin going over a repertoire for the evening, deciding to open with a soft song and a dance, followed by a short singing by Droka, to gauge the interest of the miners, and then more dancing, once the two of them have an idea of what their audience is like.

As they are preparing Ritmush comes in and is greeted warmly by Miss Elee

To Ritmush

Welcome back Little Ritmush. Of course I’ve got a few drinks that are right for you, how about some warm small bear with cinnamon. Rat-person you say, oh you must mean Kethinna, she is a Rat-person, I suppose, although you might like to know that she doesn’t call herself that. Says she is a Moderia, from a land called Moderia, which is on the eastern ring she says. You’ll like her. She’s awful friendly, sweet and smart as a whip. Folks have taken a real shine to her around here. She usually comes in in the evenings, and likes to play cards with the Ohlsons and Thomwells.

A few buildings away, and around a corner…

Mister Henderson looks hard at Portia, and for a moment he seems to be deep in thought, but just when it seems he is about to open his mouth and start talking again, he frowns, and mumbles, I’ll get the goods to the warehouse, you better get back to you friends. That woman will want to examine the goods, and if I can hurry I might be able to keep her from seeing too much. I’ll try to make it look like the group of you is behind all this and send her looking for you. That’s give you all the time you need to get her out of the way permanently

Mister Henderson will want Portia to leave him with the wagon, so if Portia insists on going all the way to the warehouse with him she’ll need to come up with an excuse. You don’t need to think of something too terribly original, and you can make a Bluff Check to see how well it works. If you roll <10 he might become even more suspicious than he already is, but if you roll 12+ he’ll accept your reason and let you go

Brenda listens to Unbolath’s story as she also reads the contract
When he is finished, she does not looked surprised but clears her throat and tries to explain

The contract is very well put together. I have some experience in certain codes and languages used to deliver hidden messages, and on the surface, this is just a simple contract for goods, and I’m inclined to believe that whomever created this contract is unaware of the goods you mentioned.

There have been reports of strange, mysterious, even dangerous objects and devices being discovered deep in the interior of this continent. I believe you.

I’m not familiar with this Drespor person you mentioned, nor have I heard that name. However, you might be interested to know that the company, the WEAC, has many diverse operations ongoing here, and though some of them might seem difficult to look at and think of as simply business, I can assure you, that it is not likely that the WEAC is breaking any laws. The company, the merchant cartels in general, do not lightly cross the Aeromnian government. Most likely this Drespor is working as an independent agent, in his own interests, and I would not be surprised to find Henderson is in this with him. What profit they are making by delivering company property to these other individuals you mentioned is impossible to tell without directly questioning him, Henderson I mean.

She stands and delivers the contract back to Unbolath.

I’ll see to it that you are paid, within the terms of this contract, without you needing to deliver it back to the captain at Fort Horizon, and I will draft a note to explain the situation to him. You can give it to him, when it is convenient for you to do so. I’ve found several discrepancies in the workings of this post and am fully prepared to have Henderson removed from his position, and as soon as I am can I intend to have criminal charges brought against him, that is as soon as I can discover who the legal authority in this town actual is, and if that person can be trusted.

She then approaches the two elves, Which one of you is Portia?
When the elves introduce themselves as simple people who were only along with the wagon to find a new home here in Mystic Valley, she looks at them suspiciously and then turns back to Unbolath
I would like to talk to your friend Portia about this Drespor person, and I’d also like to offer you a job, if you are interested. Henderson strikes me as a man on the edge, a dwarf who is not as smart as he thinks he is, and a person who if back into a corner, could be dangerous. I want to see these goods, now. I’m going to the warehouse, right now. If you are willing to accompany me and be prepared to help me if the situation turns ugly I can offer you compensation well worth the effort I assure you. You seem to have run afoul of the companies rather strict and often inflexible rules, out here in this new frontier, but the WEAC isn’t all about contracts and fine print, or looking to cheat people out of opportunity when it knocks.
I’m prepared to offer you one thousand dollars if you’ll help me capture Henderson, alive and unharmed. No tricks, no catches.

Brenda goes to a safe in the corner of the room and opens it (it wasn’t locked). She takes two sacks out of the safe. Each is about the size of a large melon.

I have the money right here. You can take it now, but then we, you and I, are going to see Mister Henderson about this wagon immediately.

Portia's eyebrow raised as she is told the plan, she thinks for a moment, i need to stall him. I need to get him to take his time, to get him caught. Even if I go down with him, but he can't hide all the evidence before this auditor lady sees it

Look, I am going with you. I need to see the job to the end and ensure the cargo is safe. I will not take no for an answer, lest you want our employer to hear about your lax security and shoddy merchandise practices?

bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 18

"Ms Carvol, I accept your offer, my services are at your disposal. Let us pay a visit to Mr Henderson." Unbolath secures the gold she hands him in his pack, and prepares to accompany the auditor to the warehouse. "Portia will have gone with the wagon to the warehouse to keep an eye on Henderson, we should find her there."

"Thank ya oh marshal ah'drinks!" Ritmush exclaims changing a few smaller coins to the Barkeep and takes a sip, a mustache of moisture and small flecks of cinnamon on his lip. "So if'n I was tah jus' sit aroun' here for a bit ya think she'd come in or woul' it make more sense fer me ta head on down to her place?" Ritmush asks, half to Miss Elee and half to himself as he stares into his drink.
" Wonder if I can jus' win it from her inna' card game. Mebe' I can bribe her with some cheese or somethin'. Buh' then I gotta figure ouh where ta go from there.. Hrmm, I'd like a lantern buh' I guess if she doesn't show I can do without."
With his external monologue rolling to a stop and the drink proving quite satisfying (Nothing less from 'Tha'Drink Marshal') Ritmush seats himself on a stool at the bar.
"So 's been a bit since I las'was aroun' anythin' interestin' round town? Town elders still upset bout' me tellin' tha shortlin's tha tale ah' Despratro an' his three queens? Not like it was mah fault they all turn out ta' be men. Jus bein' hysterically accurate 's all."
Ritmush states as congenial as he can settling in for the game of small talk and rumors.

Droka spots Ritmush as he comes in and waves to him. Then, he returns to discussing the details of the performance with Calliope.

Ritmush smiles to the man waving before returning to his beer. "Who ta'heck is that?" the young man mutters, looking around he spots calliope "Oh righ' mus be one 'ah tha' were-cows friends."

Thikka snorts at the Tiefling. "You think I talk much, girl? You ain't been payin' attention. Just don't let me catch you stealin' nothin' from people what ain't deservin' of it, and we got no issues, you and me." The ratfolk says with some mild acid in her voice, and then returns to watching. "We should find a back access to that building now, while the town is still ignoring us." She sets off down the street away from the building, then steps into an alley on the same side of the street, to begin working her way back toward it, expecting the tiefling to follow her.

Ritmush, slave to his curiosity, sighs. And yep, that is still the 438th wood panel in the ceiling. It's relah' borin' in this town when all tha' kids have been brought in fer tha' night. I even cooked up a great one about LorohLor an'tha turn gulley ambush. I wonder wha' they're talkin'bout over there.
Meandering his way, half consumed drink in his hand, to the back where Droka and Calliope prepared. A grin on his face he plops down near them.
"Hi Were-cantalope, Silent...
Ritmush leads off with a quirked browWha' was 'is name?
"..Bob" the young human states with an air of satisfaction Yep, defintely his name. an'if not then it is now!
Not one to let the silent stand for long he immediately jumps into his questions.
"Soh, what'cha doin'ovah here? Beer's over tha' way if ya got lost. Tha'Drink Marshal got's all sorta stuff back there.* Thoug' yer s'pose ta ask if ya wanna look at em less ya want a welt on yer head.* She's a dead eye with beer bottle I tell ya!.*" ritmush states rubbing a spot just behind his ear.
Some or all of what ritmush is saying is obviously lies. an Unlikely modifier. So say -5. somewhat unbelievable with both of the characters in question having just interacted with the Barwoman. Ritmush's version of it just makes normal actions seem to have a bit of a darker tint to them.
LIES!: 1d20 + 8 - 5 ⇒ (10) + 8 - 5 = 13

"Oh, Don's'pose either ah ya has a nice-ish lantern? Gonna try an'win me one tonigh' buh if one a' ya has one I'd be willin' tah buy it off ya.*"