Kaul mugs a scarred grin;
"Hur. Ye have that right... Thinkin' somethin' more red-'anded... fits me skills like. Guessin' there must be bosses who oversee things that ain't quite above board. So a guided tour o' whose who and what's what might be a start..."
The brute bosun pushes a couple more battered coins across the bartop...
"Weeelll, if you've plenty of coin, I could show you a bit of my handy work in the back alley," the old woman purrs and gives Kaul a lascivious wink. She cackles. "You'd probably pull your manhood right off with that big, metal hand you got."
"Split-face Knocmar and Ziphras are most prevalent in the Gutrot focusing on cons, pickpocketing, and secrets. Something about you reminds me of Knocmar," she snickers. "I don't know that they could afford you though. Mostly the crimelords are divided up by specialty rather than turf. Avery Slyeg is close to the Overlord and handles the lion's share of the smuggling, but Elias Tammerhawk, the head of the Cyphermages, is likely next in line. He's as cutthroat as the rest. Never trust a wizard, I say. Your best bet is Boss Croat though. He's the drug kingpin and prefers your type for his enforcers. Otherwise, I hear Clegg Zincher is hiring. He runs arena gambling and protection rackets. Who's left? Oh, Shorafa Pamodae is the Madam at the Silken Veil and I hear that she's made some moves toward taking over the Golden Goblin since Vancaskerkin disappeared."
Kaul barks at the bawdy humour as he downs his beer and moves onto the chaser;
"Hur. Ain't one for a diddle while I's dredgin' fir work... appreciate the offer."
The thug grimaces as the local spirit strips the taste from his tongue.
"Tasty drop. Ain't Bloodgrog but when in Rotgut eh?"
Emitting a hacksaw chuckle, his beady eyes narrow;
"Hur. Boss Croat... good tae know. Heard Zincher was 'irin'... gamblin' ain't my forte. Tell me more 'bout this Madam. Her makin' moves.... how's the other bosses seein' that? She got enemies or is it all friends on account o' her buy an' trade?"
The thug pushes a couple more coins the woman's way.
"Arrrgh! Was that supposed to happen??!!" Corliss demands before trying to heal himself (after stepping away from the deathtrap altar).
The woman sounds defensive. "Yes, when deterring thieves, but it shouldn't have been active." She frowns at the crafters and then back at Corliss as he heals himself. "So you are a real priest. I thought that was idle boasting. Can do anything to make the altar more authentic? Perhaps consecrate it or something?"
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The woman cackles again and drops more coins into her sagging bra. "Oh, there's no love lost between the crimelords. Only cooperation I've heard between them is when Overlord Cromarcky demands it and the one time Zincher and Croat teamed up against Saul Vancaskerkin. I figured they were looking to take over the Golden Goblin, but I've heard it wasn't business. It was all personal. Clegg hated Vancaskerkin. Started when Saul's son killed Clegg's brother, Falk, over one of the girls at the Silken Veil. With Vancaskerkin gone, Clegg hasn't shown much interest in the Golden Goblin, but things have stayed particularly sour between him and Madam Pamodae. Zincher's not as bold as he used to be though. He wasn't the only one changed by whatever happened on the island after the skystone hit the Devil's Elbow."
"I can't say what Madam Pamodae's game is. She is a priestess of Calistria so I wouldn't doubt that there's vengeance involved. The current manager of the Golden Goblin, Lixy Parmenter, has got her support though. Could even be Lixy is one of the Madam's Capps."
Dingus flinches as Corliss is injured and decides not to move or touch any of the "interesting" stuff in here.
He answers the question... "Of course he can! Him and Besmara are like mother and son".
"Can do anything to make the altar more authentic? Perhaps consecrate it or something?"
"Well, my dear lady, I could comsecrate it, but to what end? The magical enchantment would wear off inside a day...plus I'd need some material components what'd set ye back 50 gold. I s'pose I could carve some Besmaran holy symbols into the wood here an' there. Not pretty, but 100% genuine an' legitimate!" The priest digs through his pack and produces the two wooden holy symbols he carved sometime during his forgotten past.
As he shows them to the foreperson, he smiles and says, "I can't go on calling you 'dear lady' for an indeterminate period, now can I? What is your name, iff'n I may be so bold as to ask?"
The woman sighs and gives a begrudging nod to Corliss' addition. "You may call me Master Artisan Temeera or Boss. Either would be far better than 'Dear lady'. What about your odd young partner here? What skills does he have?"
Kaul listens intently, then grimaces as he swallows down a gulp of the house hooch.
"Right ye are. So barrin' Clegg an' Croat they don't get on. Hur..."
The brute, shifts with a hard grin;
"So might be they still want this Golden Goblin? Might be if they take it, then might be someone who runs if fir 'em would be a Capp? Or be made one..."
"Hey! I can answer for myself thank you". Dingus gives an indignant huff and flicks his purple and red boa.
He then begins to count on his hands. "One I have an impeccable fashion sense so I can make sure nobody is unstylish. Two If someone accidentally ingests poison I can help keep them up till they get better. Three I can give wonderful fashion advice... for instance your robes... never wear that color before summer... four I can help with identifying and using minor magics. five I can help you modify your dreadful wardrobe". Then noticing he is out of fingers he stops.
Richard peaks his head out from the Dingus's backpack. "Oh yeah! How rude of me. I can help with snakes".
He then leans back smiling, confident in his qualifications for the position.
The old lady just gives a shrug. "Could be. I Don't know what their current interests are, but I'd guess a loss for one is a gain for the others. Don't think that I'd want any of them for an enemy though."
Master Artisan Temeera looks thoughtful. "Well, a couple of those skills might actually be of more interest than mediocre scrimshaw. We're finishing up today, but return tomorrow and I might have somethign more specific for you two."
Once back at the ship, Jim fills the others in on what he's learned.
After his listening tour, the Taldan settles his tab and rejoins the party. "Well, I found out a couple of things. First, the Arena Bar pours a decent mug. Second, the gent who auditions fighters likes showoffs. I think I can do a bit of that, and Kaul can scare the sh1te out of any number of foes--probably go over pretty well."
Kaul nods his scarred noggin;
"Hur. So where does Kauly find this Boss Croat?"
"Hur. So where does Kauly find this Boss Croat?"
"In the Leeward District. It's The big place that looks like a fortress at the top of Silk Street."
Kaul nods his scarred noggin, then leaves a few more coins for the bosom.
"Right ye are. Reckons I'll see what he 'as to say."
The brute bosun makes his way out to the streets wear a mako grin and buzz of the liquor.
Jim listens to Dingus and Corliss, pausing every now and then to take another swig of grog. "All right, mates--sounds like we have a plan...mostly. Depends on what Kaul gets himself into, hey? Tomorrow, you two go back to the artisan, and I'll try to dazzle Jaravo. How's that?"
Kaul discerns that he's a fairway to go...
"Hur. Back ta'ward that feckin' Golden Gob an' onward to Clegg's streets..."
He mugs a malicious grin...
Maybes I should check on Lopps. Could be they ain't treatin' her right... Hur. Tum would'a loved this place... Plenty o' monkey business to be 'ad.
The thug presses onward Leeward...
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Kaul shambles north to the Bones Gate which is approached from the east by a steep pass through the mountains along the eastside of town. The buildings north of gate are much taller and most seem to have shops on the ground floor and several floor of apartments above. Leeward seems to be the most populous district and the mountains that shelter the district from the cold continental northern winds are likely the reason.
A particularly massive five-story block of a building overlooks the gate and central square of the district and Kaul takes it for Zincher's Tenement by the barred windows and gladiators lingering around the entrance. The central square is marked by a public well where an attendant is kept very busy hauling water for tips from the numerous citizens sporting buckets to fill.
From the square, Kaul angles northward again up Shelter Street and then spots Silk Street running parallel to the west through an alley which offers a framed view of a squat, pyramid-shaped temple topped by a blood-red steeple. The yellowed walls of the temple are punctuated by balconies where sparsely dressed women and men ostentatiously hang their freshly washed and rather tiny underclothes to dry from the railing. Kaul takes it that this is the House of the Silken Veil where Shorafa Pamodae runs the temple and her part of Riddleport's criminal enterprises.
He soldiers on to the top of Silk Street and is rewarded by the view of a trio of tenements connected by a fifteen-foot tall spiked parapet that encloses a common are within. The main gates are open and a heavy wagon pulled by an ox rumbles out with a quartet of very tough and well armed half-orcs. The wagon rumbles past Kaul with only a speculative glance from one of the guards so Kaul continues to the compound's gate where a couple more half-Orc guards give him a nod. "That's a nice piece of hardware you got for an arm there. Numerian?" one asks.
Dingus and Corliss make sure to be on time the next morning. A different guard seems to be expecting them and they are led back to the temporary workshop. Much as yesterday, crafters of various sorts are active in three main areas. In one corner a pair of scholarly types are forming sigils in the air as another circles around them deep in thought. Another corner holds a small library with a desk where Master Artisan Temeera studies some plans with a new face, a halfling woman dressed in dark clothes. No one is working on the ornate and occasionally dangerous altar to Besmara today.
The halfling perks up when the pair enters whispering something to Temeera, who gives an exasperated nod. The halfling moves quickly to greet Corliss. "We are so glad that you returned. Is that your artwork on the Besmara shrine? I'm Lyshna and I'll be had picking craftsmen for the next project. Would you show me your work?"
Jim heads out the next day on his own. Kaul merely waved him off and mumbled something about working on his own thing when Jim tried to rouse him. Back on the arena sand, Jim sees a group of warriors gathering around a tall Garundi man with a spear and lion's mane cape. As he reaches the group the leader claps and the fighters line up facing him. The leader speaks, "I see a couple new faces here. I am Jaravo, your trainer. Make sure you listen well. I have a decade of arena experience and a decade of fighting experience before that. I have fought the fiercest monsters that you can imagine and the toughest gladiators both Garund and Avistan have to offer. Let's see if you can impress me today. HA! Unlikely, but do your best. Find a partner!"
Despite himself Jim is impressed with the man's experience. Surviving that, he's either very good or very lucky. 'Course, I survived a feckin' brain eater and its puppet.... He glances around at the nearest candidates, trying to find another light weapon combatant.
Five sets of mercenaries pair off, not necessarily with similar weapons, but Jim quickly challenges a man of similar build to himself armed with a single long sabre-like blade. He does wear slightly heavier breastplate armor under a blue great coat and loose pants held up by a wide ornate belt. He chuckles at Jim's challenge. "I am Sveteski and I hope that you will in fact provide a challenge." He draws the sword and takes a preparatory stance.
Jim gives the man a slightly nervous smile.
Maybe not that nervous, as the confidence born of many combats shows through for anyone with even a little bit of experience in reading people. "Jim, and I hope so, too." He closes slowly and goes for a disarm.
Jim oversells his worried look and Sveteski isn't fooled by it, but Jim's sudden leap forward and strike at his sword almost works. The swordsman fumbles a moment, but recovers with a wild spin, the long curved blade edge out to prevent Jim's follow up. Then the duelist spins the blade vertically so fast that it looks to have dissolved into a silver sun. He advances on Jim with the hissing blade darting out in a frightful manner. Jim retreats from the dazzling display a few steps and finds himself unnerved by Sveteski's speed.
This display has apparently attracted Jaravo's attention as his laugh echoes out and he yells, "Yes, Sveteski!"
Kaul mugs a a grin;
"Hur. I ain't sure lads... I all know its good fir crackin' an' smashin'... wherever its from..."
He flexes the claw, admiring the "clack" as it shuts.
Eying the guards he tips his no-neck noggin toward the open gates;
"Hur. Am hopin' to speak tae yer boss... May have some business to push 'is way. Who do I need to speak to fir that to 'appen?"
Dingus wanders over to where some are practicing spell casting and attempts to figure out what they're doing.
Spellcraft
He starts to give advice on better ways to cast the spells. whether he knows what they're doing or not, interrupting the instruction at the most inopportune times.
"No! No! you have to rotate your right hand about another 45 degrees inward, and your feet should be parallel".
He then shakes his head and frowns. "Tsk,tsk. You'll never master that spell if you don't pay attention to what I'm telling you".
Bluff???
Dingus heads over to the mages in the corner ready to be of use. Instead he startles them and a door on the cabinet they are standing around that Dingus initially took to be a lectern slams shut with a glyph of warding suddenly appearing on it, locking it and activating something within.
The wizards initially look angry, but Dingus' supreme confidence gives them pause. "We are having a bit of trouble with the trigger, Sagacious One. The door should stay pen and the trap safe should stay open as long as one continues circling the room, but they shouldn't have to concentrate. It ought to attune to anyone, but it's not reading presences very well."
The guard that spoke looks a but sweaty and has a heavy underbite which probably explains his name as he introduces himself. "You could speak to me, I'm Scrag. What sort of business is it now?"
Kaul mugs a grin;
"Hur. Bloody kind. I've a score tae settle an' reckon your boss might benefit iffin' he can 'elp Ol' Kauly out. Reckons it'll be in 'is interests an' maybe he has some tells fir me."
Scrag leans in conspiratorially. "Sounds like you got the making of a hushman. A'right. Follow me then." He nods Kaul through the gate and then pulls it shut with the other guard. Leaving his companion to keep watch, Scrag leads Kaul through the inner courtyard. There are stables near the gate and the strong odor of flayleaf pervades the compound and is particularly strong from a large warehouse in one corner of the triangular facility. Kaul sees a near equal mix orc-blooded and human workers tending to various jobs as Scrag heads for a stone manor in another corner of the triangle. Entering through a stout pair of doors, Scrag nods his way past various guards and servants to a dining hall where a surprisingly obese half-orc sits at the head of the table taking the evening meal with his orcish gang.
Scrag motions Kaul to wait while he walks up to the head of the table and has some words. After a moment, the big orc seated at the head beckons Kaul forward and makes an introduction while the others continue eating and talking among themselves. "And how did you come by Gorum's own hand there? Impressive. I am Boss Croat. Scrag says your for spilling some blood and you claim your business might be of interest to me. Do tell, Doram-Jarn." He says referring to Kaul as 'Iron Hand' in Orcish.
Kaul nods first to Scrag, then more noticeably toward Boss Croat. He raises his claw with a hard chuckle;
"Hur. Thank ye for this audience Boss. I be Kaul... red-'anded bosun o' the Bloody Fortune. As fir me claw, took it from the corpse o' infamous pirate Cap'n Jemma Redclaw after we put 'er down... Ain't rightly sure where she got it from... but I reckon Ol' Kauly here puts it to bloodier use."
He cricks his no-neck, then continues;
"Now in me other paw I usually carries a fair vicious axe from the Linnorm lands. Calls 'er Lopper an' between us we've felled more than most... except she's been stolen from me, by them damned Lixy-bits at the Golden Gob. Couple o' our swabs got into bother. Rest o' us went in tae get 'em out. Was a trap... just to get us to agree to their bargain an' do a job for 'em. Me lads signed some 'ellish contract... but it don't mean feck all. They ain't real devils an' I's damned anyways so feck 'em."
The thug grimaces, his beady eyes trailing off in imagined revenge being wrought.
"So Boss. I come to you. 'ear you too ain't on best o' terms with them. Lookin' fir yer aid ta get me axe back. Course I expects you'll want rep-arrrr-ations 'iffin' ye do. Willin' to do work fir ye... whatever it takes."
"So Boss. I come to you. 'ear you too ain't on best o' terms with them... Willin' to do work fir ye... whatever it takes."
Boss Croat chuckles and slurps a big gulp of beer from a tankard. Wiping his jowls with the back of his hand, he snorts. "Now why would I care about the hired help? Lixy is just a clever little croupier who made good off Saul's death. Now Clegg had it in for Saul, but Saul sent his dimwitted mercenaries to hit one of my loan sharks so Saul got on my bad side, too. But Saul's dead now and his mercenaries left town so I don't have any particular interest either way. If you want a hit on Lixy, I'm sure Scrag would name his price. Just business, but I'm guessing you'd like to do the work yourself."
"Lixy isn't calling the shots though. What was the contract for?"
Dingus heads over to the mages in the corner ready to be of use. Instead he startles them and a door on the cabinet they are standing around that Dingus initially took to be a lectern slams shut with a glyph of warding suddenly appearing on it, locking it and activating something within.
The wizards initially look angry, but Dingus' supreme confidence gives them pause. "We are having a bit of trouble with the trigger, Sagacious One. The door should stay pen and the trap safe should stay open as long as one continues circling the room, but they shouldn't have to concentrate. It ought to attune to anyone, but it's not reading presences very well."
Dingus rubs his chin sagely and squints his eyes in deep thought. "Hmmm. How long have you had these issues? What has changed since this started happening? Try it again and let me observe from the beginning".
Corliss introduces himself to Lyshna and quickly tries to dispel any notions the halfling may have that he's some sort of artist.
"I'm no artisan--I've just had some long stretches o' free time on past voyages--an' while convalescing--to do a bit of basic whittlin'. As a priest, I know a bit about how magic works, so I might be able to help anyone tryin' to craft a magical weapon or do-dad."
Kaul scarred brow furrows and he shrugs his no-neck;
"Hur. Aye, I'll be 'andling the hit myself. Dunno exactly what it were for. Somethin' o' value o' Clegg's. Ol' Kauly was stung and under when the particulars o' the deal we're discussed. Don't honestly care. Just want me axe an' fir them in the Golden Gob to pay in blood."
He grinds his jaw, claw flexing as the cogs turn.
"Reckon then I'll be off. Was 'opin' fir somethin' I could use 'gainst the Lixy an' her lot. No matter like. Kauly appreciates the opporchancity Boss."
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"Doesn't have much curiosity. Does he, Scrag?" Boss Croat notes loudly to his Capp.
"Nope and very focused. Useful traits for a hushman."Scrag replies.
"Hold on, Doram-Jarn," the crimelord says to Kaul. "Doesn't sound like going in blind worked so well for you last time. If there's going to be more trouble between Clegg and whoever owns the Goblin now, that's information that I'd like to have. Tell you what, there's a cashier at the Goblin who's developed a bit of a taste for Riddleport Tea. You give him a squeeze and let him know that he can either tell us all he knows about his employer or we tell his employer all we know about him. See what that gets us, huh? Scrag can show you where he lives."
Jim oversells his worried look and Sveteski isn't fooled by it, but Jim's sudden leap forward and strike at his sword still takes him by surprise. The swordsman fumbles a moment and the sword awkwardly falls onto the sand. Jim looks around to see if Javaro notices, but the gladiator's attention is elsewhere.
Svetestki recovers his blade with a scowl. "Pirate tricks. Yes? I may have underestimated you or was it luck?" Jim's opponent takes a more cautious two-handed grasp of his long narrow blade. Then the duelist spins the blade vertically so fast that it looks to have dissolved into a silver sun. He advances on Jim with the hissing blade darting out in a frightful manner. Jim retreats from the dazzling display a few steps and finds himself unnerved by Sveteski's speed.
This display has apparently attracted Jaravo's attention as his laugh echoes out and he yells, "Yes, Sveteski!"
The mages nod at Dingus' sagely directions. "To be honest, it's a rather unusual request. The clockwise circumambulation as a means to delay the triggering of the sigil is what's giving us trouble." The mages then show Dingus the twists that they are trying to ensure that the glyph doesn't trigger when someone is circling it.
Meanwhile, Corliss cheerfully complies with the halfling's request by walking up to the dangerous shrine again to retrieve a whittled holy symbol that he handed the foreman yesterday which now dangles from one of the decorative cutlasses. As he grabs the cord to lift it off the thing, there's the ratcheting sound again as another cutlass activates and slashes at him. Corliss ducks this time, but doesn't let go of his holy symbol and the the cord pulls off the cutlass that it was hanging on with a crack. The broken blade flies up and down at the hapless sailor who tumbles onto his back with a series of unfortunate sounds and motions. The falling blade lands point down in the floor between Corliss; legs, but fortunately a half-inch or so from any flesh.
Lyshna shrieks with laughter and with tears in her eyes, points to Corliss announcing to Temeera that she will definitely need Corliss to work for her. Temeera argues with exasperation that that isn't a good idea, but doesn't seem able to change her partners mind.
Corliss tries to get back to his feet with any shred of his dignity intact. He tries not to glare as he looks at the laughin' halflin' and then at Temeera.
Eventually, he asks, "Orders?"
Corliss can clearly see that Lyshna has a sadistic streak and that he'd better be wary of her practical jokes. Temeera is very no-nonsense, but often gets so caught up in her work that she loses track of what is going on around her. Temeera is most impressed by competency and hard work and you sense that she is very unhappy with the trap-makers frivolous and dangerous sense of humor, but defers to Lyshna's expertise. At this point, Corliss doesn't think he's impressed Temeera enough to make any headway, but he might get into Lyshna's good graces with his natural clumsiness, if he survives.
Lyshna smiles at Corliss. "Well, we've got a ship to outfit. See if you can get a couple of big gladiators out in the lobby to give us a hand disassembling the altar and getting it boxed to move out."
The iron-clawed brute mugs a grin;
"Hur. That I can do Boss. This mug ain't just for the ladies her-hur-hur..."
Boss Croat gives a slight nod and his attention moves on to a plate of honeyed ribs. Scrag angles his head toward the door motioning Kaul to follow. Outside of the Croat Compound, Scrag ambles southward down Silk Street past the House of the Silken Veil to the opposite corner of town at the edge of the Wharf District. Lantern light begins to shine from homes and businesses as the short winter sun sets. Scrag points out a lit window on the second floor of a four story tenement accessed by a series of exterior stairs. "That's it. Otuk's place." Scrag briefs Kaul briefly.
Knowledge: Arcana
Dingus puzzles trying to figure out how to help them with the nuances of the spell.
"Perhaps you should use your other hand to do this and close your right eye with your tongue stuck out. It couldn't hurt right".
Corliss gives Lyshna a nod before going to do her bidding. When he returns with a couple of burly folks, he helps out a bit himself before casually asking the halfling, "So that altar's goin' on a ship, eh? Might be touch dangerous fer the crew but not so dangerous to sink the whole ship, I'm hopin'. Is a Besmaran the cap'n?"
Kaul's beady eyes narrow, and he flashes a jigsaw shark grin.
"Hur. Best I go intro-duce me'self then."
The thug moves to the stairs and begins a machiavellian ascent...
Softly, softly Kaul creeps up the stairs to the door that Scrag pointed out. Once there, he carefully listens for sounds beyond. He hears a rhythmic slap of bare feet on the wood floor accompanied by giggles and off tune vocalizations...
It becomes apparent to Dingus, even with his short attention span and rather random thought process, that the mages he now appears to be supervising are using a magic system based on the same ancient sigils and runes that he has been studying. He realizes that these mages are members of Riddleport's Order of Cyphers. He notes this by their repeated use of the word 'cypher' which is used interchangeably with glyph, sigil, or rune. They also have tattooed various 'cyphers' to their arms, faces, and less obvious body parts.
Beyond marking their skin rather than wearing the lovely robes that the Runeguards favor, the Order seems to have quite a different approach to ancient magic than the Runeguards that Dingus met in Magnimar. Where the Runeguards were humble and cautious in their study to ancient magics, these Cyphermages are anxious to prove their knowledge and recklessly attempt to work magic obviously beyond their ability.
Dingus figures out that they are working on a trap that is based off spells that are not typically arcane in nature, but the glyphs release magic in a raw and a direct way that transcends the more typical rules of magic. Dingus reckons that the glyph they are trying to set would be triggered by a sentient being approaching, but will be held in check by a being walking in a circle around the glyph. Apparently, this allows the removal and replacement of an object within the secret cabinet guarded by the glyph. Dingus is uncertain what the effect of the triggered glyph would be though.