Keliwyn grins and thrusts his rapier at the man with the crossbow, and then, in an almost unbroken blur of movement, uses to the same rotation of his torso to throw his dagger at the man sneaking up behind him.
Attack Damage
Attack Damage
Keliwyn's thrust pierces Crossbow's abdomen and the man drops his crossbow and doubles up in pain. Knuckles takes advantage of Keliwyn's rotation to step in and a throw a punch at the elf's head. The person sneaking up from behind turns out to be a woman who sideslips the flying dagger and dashes forward to engage, drawing two knives as she comes.
Despite being attacked from left and right, Keliwyn avoids both fists and blades.
Ducking & spinning to dodge his opponents, Keliwyn draws his second dagger, and continues his attack. This time, he reverses, thrusting at the woman with the two daggers, and fending off Knuckles with his own dagger.
Rapier for Daggers
Dagger for Knuckles
I removed a double post in this thread.
Slashed deeply across the bicep, Daggers drops one weapon and cries out. Crossbow rasps out, "Run!" Daggers circles around you warily and the three of them begin a retreat.
Well then, Keliwyn thinks as he watches his opponents flee, that went rather well. Pulling a bit of rag from under his armor, Keliwym wipes down the blood from his blade while he looks around for Belinda. Lamenting the loss of the wine, he retrieves both his dagger, and the one dropped by the female thug.
Belinda is a short way down the block, staring open-mouthed at Keliwyn and his fast receding assailants. She is obviously impressed.
Keliwyn will continue to, uh, pump her for more information about Grunt's friends, and for any useful bits about unusual interactions between Andru and the pub's customers.Diplomacy, if needed 1d20 + 9
The next day, however, he'll continue his investigation, starting at Grunt's neighborhood and even the nearby fishing docks, if necessary
neighborhood - Diplomacy 1d20 + 9
docks - Diplomacy 1d20+9If nothing good turns up, he'll return to the Horn Stein in the evening, to see if Jake or Bluenose show up.
Over the next few days Keliwyn maintains a low profile while working Grunt's neighborhood and friends. At first people are reserved and suspicious; one woman, wife of one of Grunt's nephews, chases Keliwyn from her doorstep with screams of, "Snitch! Dirty informer! ...." and blows from her rolling pin.
Eventually the elf wins a degree of trust. Is it his cordial persistence and the resulting familiarity in the neighborhood? Is it the occasional coin? Is it the air of mystery about Keliwyn, an exotic stranger in these poor fishermens' and laborers' neighborhoods? Whatever the reason over the course of a couple days some people open up to Keliwyn.
He puts together a picture of Grunt's life and the man behind it. Never really popular, but respected for integrity, leaving aside from his crazy stories. "Grunt Poole? Honest as the day is long, and he thought his day was longer than anyone else's. Never told a lie except them stories at the Stein." A widower the last four years. His wife was a washerwoman and wetnurse. She seemed lucky in finding work with a couple well-off merchant and minor noble families. "Bess was the best thing for Grunt. Always seemed lucky with jobs. Had a gentle quality about her. Never knew what she saw in Grunt though."
One of Grunt's daughters reveals that many of her female cousins found work as servants with the minor nobility and wealthy. "Sometimes I wish they was still around. "
One afternnon an old gnome calls you over on the street, "I heard your hunting up Old Grunt. You know you're not the first. Right after he disappeared a couple of gents were asking around. Bad ones." He holds out a hand. "And you're not the biggest fish in the Jeggare. There's some Eels asking about you."
"Perhaps we should talk somewhere more private?" Keliwyn replies while reaching into his purse.
The gnome grins; he has a pair of teeth missing from his right jaw. "You oughtn't go anywhere private with strangers, " he drawls. He leads you into the mouth of an alley anyway. "I got you figured for one of the crew that made a fool of Devargo Barvasi a while back. And there's plenty of folk who will figure it too if Barvasi's men keep asking about you, which they will. "
"All I'm telling you is keep a sharp eye about you. Understand?"
"Be especially careful at the bridges. The spiderking is watching." Apparently satisfied that he has given satisfaction, the gnome pockets the coin and shuffles away.
Keliwyn ponders the odd little gnome as he considers his next move.
Catching up - check your email.
Keliwyn finds a quite place to review recent events. After a few moments, he sighs, looks up at the sky, and then pulls out a notebook and starts scribbling some thoughts.
After collecting his thoughts and reviewing his notes, Keliwyn decides his best option is to try and get in touch with Grunt Poolen's sometimes partner and drinking buddy, Jake the netweaver. With one eye out for thugs, he continues his investigation.
Jake can be found at the docks mending nets or at home in a rundown tenement. On the way over a slight figure keeps at the edge of your vision, always disappearing whenever you look straight at him or her.
He spits a long gooey brown mass through the gap left by a missing incisor before returning your greeting.
"Can I cut you a chaw?"
You're obviously off to a good start.
"No. No, thanks," Keliwyn says as he extends his hand in greeting. Raising his voice to be heard over the seabirds lining the dock, he continues. "I'm glad to find you. My name is Keliwyn, and I'm trying to figure out what happened to a friend of mine. His name was Andru, a bartender at the Horn Stein, and he was last seen with a friend of yours - Grunt, who I can't find either. I'm hoping you can help."
"I know Andru. Haven't seen him for a while. Grunt disappeared a while back. That eel-spawned SOB still owes me money. Never gave me my share for our last fishing trip."
Grunt cocks his head as spews a long brown stream at a gull edging too close to his netting.
The weary looking elf sits on a grate, and sighs deeply. "Maybe this will help with what you're owed," Keliwyn says as he tosses three gp to the net weaver and ignores the brown string of goo hanging from the man's lip. "I'm about at my wit's end myself. Do you have any idea what might have happened to him? Has he come across anything unusual lately? Or been keeping strange company? Any of his stories strike you as particularly odd? Or has he suddenly had a new one you never heard before?"
Jake slumps back and drops the net he is mending into his lap. The gold falls into the net. He makes no move to pick it up. "No idea what happ'ed to'im. I was out drinkin' wit'im one night. Next mornin' he didn' show to tha boat." He pauses. "You ever do any fishin'?"
"Not in years," Keliwyn says, "not since coming to the city. But when I was a boy, among the Mierani, I had an uncle who would take me. Have you ever heard of fly casting? It's beautiful, and peaceful, and I should probably take it up again."
"Nevor heard of it. I meant fishin'. For a livin' like. C'mon. Grunt wo'n mind if'n we take his boat."
The old man uses his hands on his knees for leverage as he stands. He leads Keliwyn a short distance down the dock to a ladder. Three boats float at the bottom.
"Min' the fi'th rung. 'Sa broke." Jake swings himself around and descends to the middle boat. He sits on the middle thwart and pulls the boat close to the ladder and steadies it there. He looks up expectantly.
Keliwyn descends the latter, mindful of the broken rung, and takes a place in the bow. Examining the contents of the boat, he merely asks, "Are we going fishing?"
The bottom of the boat contains a mish-mash of stuff: nets, floats, three oars, a rusting knife, a tangle of long lines, a broken bowl, and a pool of evaporation-concentrated river water. The normally brown water is nearly black. Perhaps it could be more accurately described as fluid mud. Keliwyn can also see a large spider centered in a web spun under Jake's thwart.
"Yassir," Jake intones as he pushes off. He fights two of the oars free of the tangle of lines and places the oarlocks. His first stroke points the boat downstream. His second starts it moving faster than the current. Apparently satisfied, he lets the boat drift.
"You migh' wan' ta lose that belt. It'll get kinda awkward when we set the nets."
and a pool of evaporation-concentrated river water.
"Set the nets," Keliwyn says more as a statement to himself than a question to his boatmate before adding, "Sure. That makes sense," a little louder. Removing his sword belt, he places it so as insure that it doesn't go anywhere, but is careful to keep it out of the sludge pooling in the bottom of the boat. Still unsure of what Jake may be thinking or what his intentions may be, and not entirely willing to disarm himself, he takes the dagger he picked up from his most recent scuffle, and slips it into the back of his belt.
There's a dry spot under the forward thwart where Keliwyn is seated. The bow is high enough that it has stayed dry. Also under the thwart is the boat's anchor and a neatly coiled line.
Jake lets the boat drift out of the strait a bowshot into Conqueror's Bay.
He pulls south and soon the boat is riding the swells in a shallow cove at the foot of the seaside cliffs that rise to the Heights.
"Heave this out ta port an' pay out th' net while I pull . " He hands Keliwyn a weighted line that is tied to one corner of a net. The weight is heavy. The rope of the net is rough and scratchy. There's hollow gourds for floats every arm's length or so along the top line.
The sun is bright, but a line of clouds lying on mist on the western horizon promise rain as soon as the wind blows them in.
With one eye to the clouds, Keliwyn pays out the net while trying not to let his impatience get the better of him.
All the net paid out, Jake pulls the oars in and stows them. Then he turns around to face Keliwyn and sits on the stern seat. He looks over his shoulder at the clouds, up to the sun, back down to the cliff face and gives a grunt of satisfaction.
He fishes in his shirt pocket and pulls out the skin-wrapped plug of tobacco. "Sure you won't have a chaw? 't'll put hair on ya chest."
"Ya know ya ain't ta firs' to come askin' 'bout Grunt. Jus' the mos' pleasant. Why ya'll be so intrest'd in my ole pal?"
Keliwyn grins, and contemplates some questions.
Trusting his intuition, Keliwyn opts for a direct approach. "Well, I knew Andru, and although we weren't the closest of friends, something's happened to him. He was last sign with Grunt, and both are now missing. I have reason to believe Andru is dead, and that this somehow connects with the Seneschal, who also seems to be missing."
After a moments pause, he exhales slowly, and adds, "I'm at a bit of a dead end, as I mentioned. Somehow, the three are connected, and I think there's also a connection to some of what's been going on in the city, too. If there's anything at all that you think might be worth mentioning, I'd appreciate. Any happenings of late, or anyone else that might be able to point me in a direction."
"Funny you should mention the seneschal. Grunt's las' big story was 'bout meetin' him in Bridgefront wearin' a big shawl and long dress. Most everyone else laughed it off, but I'm not sure. Andru seemed pretty interested. Grunt's crazy stories were all based on things he heard from other relatives. His wife was a wet-nurse and nanny to the rich and nobility and a rare friendly lady. People took to her right away. She was able to find a lot of the cousins work as servants in the rich houses."
At a stroke he confirms more than a week of interviews and talks with other people.
Then he goes on, " What most people don't know is that she worked for the Kalepopolis family. It's a long time ago. She might have nursed Neolandus himself. I don't know. But she stayed friendly like. I'm sure Grunt met young Neolandus. And Grunt never forgot a face. If he said he saw the Seneschal, you can bet he did."
The old fisherman thinks. "It's odd to think that Neolandus would be slumming along Bridgefront when he's been gone from the castle all this time. If he was there, why would that be?"
***
IN a later turn of the conversation, "You said you figured Andru was dead? You figure Grunt's dead too?"
"Funny you should mention the seneschal. Grunt's las' big story was 'bout meetin' him in Bridgefront wearin' a big shawl and long dress. Most everyone else laughed it off, but I'm not sure. Andru seemed pretty interested. Grunt's crazy stories were all based on things he heard from other relatives. His wife was a wet-nurse and nanny to the rich and nobility and a rare friendly lady. People took to her right away. She was able to find a lot of the cousins work as servants in the rich houses."
Keliwyn's head comes up at the mention of the missing Seneschal. "A shawl and a dress?" he mumbles to himself.
At a stroke he confirms more than a week of interviews and talks with other people.
Then he goes on, " What most people don't know is that she worked for the Kalepopolis family. It's a long time ago. She might have nursed Neolandus himself. I don't know. But she stayed friendly like. I'm sure Grunt met young Neolandus. And Grunt never forgot a face. If he said he saw the Seneschal, you can bet he did."
The old fisherman thinks. "It's odd to think that Neolandus would be slumming along Bridgefront when he's been gone from the castle all this time. If he was there, why would that be?"
Shaking his head, Keliwyn replies, "I don't know what to make of that. Dressed as a woman? in Bridgefront, you say? I don't know . . . "
***
IN a later turn of the conversation, "You said you figured Andru was dead? You figure Grunt's dead too?"
Holding his hands up and shrugging his shoulder, Keliwyn replies, "Well, Andru is dead, and another body, matching Grunt's description, was found with his. I don't know for a fact that it was Grunt, but it sounds like it. A number of people spotted the two of them together leading up to that time." The elf let's the conversation lapse while he tries to puzzle out what is going on, and what the Mierani's interest may be. "Hopefully, I can find Neolandus, and put it all together." Looking up and making eye contact with the fisherman, he adds, "Thanks."
Keliwyn's head comes up at the mention of the missing Seneschal. "A shawl and a dress?" he mumbles to himself.
"Sure. That's what Grunt said. Not his wors' story. Ther'as the one about the merchan' tha' drank piss. Not I buliev'd tha' one. But Grunt seemed serious."
***
The old fisherman thinks. "It's odd to think that Neolandus would be slumming along Bridgefront when he's been gone from the castle all this time. If he was there, why would that be?"
Shaking his head, Keliwyn replies, "I don't know what to make of that. Dressed as a woman? in Bridgefront, you say? I don't know . . . "
"If'n it's true, what's in Bridgefront? Kalpopolus's been missing a long time. You'd think he'd be dead or long gone or hiding out with 'is frien's."
***
"Hopefully, I can find Neolandus, and put it all together." Looking up and making eye contact with the fisherman, he adds, "Thanks."
"DOn' thank me. You's the bes' o' them asking 'bout Grunt. If you think they kilt Grunt 'n' Andru over this little story, you jes' catch 'em and make 'em pay."
The old netrigger looks around. "We bes' draw them nets now. Storm's comin' in."
Kenzo nods and starts to pull in the net. As they began to row back, he becomes lost in quiet thought, but then breaks his revere, and nodding again, looks at Jake and says, "They'll pay. I'll find them and make them pay."
With that, he looks about, and seems to notice approaching the coming storm for the first time.
Hauling in the nets is a nasty business. The ropes are rough and the broken strands that stick out are occasionally stiff enough to prick the skin. Then there's the water. It seems gallons of it comes up with the fish and the nets. Jake seems satisfied. He hums liltingly between bailing as the fish fall into the bilge.
The fish are a pleasant surprise however. They are striped or spotted with colors that soon begin to fade to the silver you see in the market.
Jake asks Keliwyn to row one oar on the return trip. "When I 'us young I could 'a' pulled up Alika's Strait meself. 's harder now, 'n' we didn' plan the tide." Side by side you strain to pull against the current.
You stop at a small dock to unload the catch. Ten silver. Jake hands you half. "Not bad for a green han'. Com' on back sometime. We'll go out again."
Keliwyn's hands are raw and his clothes are wet and smell of seawater.
Keliwyn, pleased at having a new lead, relaxes for the first time in days, and although he thinks fondly of a hot bath, clean clothes and a fine meal, he enjoys the row back, and the company of the salty old netmaker.
When they stop to unload the catch, he does his best to both help and not get in the way, but when Jake hands him the silver, he shakes his head and holds up his hands. "No, you keep it, my friend," he says. "Count it towards Grunt's debt, and for my appreciation for your help." With that, he shakes the man's hand, collects his weapons, and takes his leave.
Walking through the streets, Keliwyn once again reflects on events and the information he has, and the wider events that have been transpiring in the city. He briefly contemplates stopping at his apartment or an inn to clean up, but decides that his grunginess may well help him to blend in among the pinchers in the 'front. Unsure of where to begin among the streets that make up the long neighborhood, Keliwyn at first walks the streets, making chit-chat, and getting a feel for who may have information.
Can you give me a sample line of questioning or what kind of information you're looking for?
At the west end of the island where your fish pier is, you don't get any bites. Moving east there's more interest, a bite or two. Someone saw a man so dressed, but she might just be stringing you along. Someone else suggests, "Man in a dress and a shawl? Sounds like something from Pilt's Excrebles." A sentiment echoed a few times. Pilts Swastel's Exemplary Excrebles, a theater catering to the lowest impulses of human nature, or perhaps something lower. Down near the stone bridge a young boy seems quite certain and truthful that he saw the shawl wrapped transvestite.
By the time you've worked down to the stone bridge, it's getting dark.
Cutting up an alley to reach the main street, a caped man srops in front of you. He's wearing red. His cape is red. his leather jerkind and leggings are red. His leather mask-cap is red and masks his face with two large insectile eyes.
You hear another land behind you.
Initiative
Keliwyn looks at the moment in front of him, and glances at the one behind. "Gentlemen," he says, before trying to twist his way past the first so as not to be flanked, while drawing his weapons and attacking.
You're a little clumsy moving by the man. You know he had an opening to slash with his jagged-edged sword. But the red-clad man lets you slip by, sidesteps your attacks, and says, "Watch and learn".
He begins to swing his blade in a strangely fascinating weave. He breathes a low droning note. A second sword joins the first, darting and moving in an almost pattern.
The second red-clad figure is a woman. She stands behind the man, swords drawn but motionless.