It is a cool, crisp autumn morning in Silverkeep. The city bustles as merchants go about the business of selling their wares, as the Silver Guards drill and train new recruits, as the nobility bicker in upscale estates and as miscellaneous city folk undergo their daily migration from place to place. Their daily routines are ever-so-slightly more rushed and harried than normal as the town criers announce the recent news from the front lines.
"Goldcrest has fallen! Lord Hekkard's army was victorious!" cries one man, whilst on the other side of the town his fellow announces "Sir Derrin was defeated at Ram Keep! Goldcrest's army is on it's way here!"
In the main square, each of you saw another crier standing with a city magistrate. The pair had been there since well before dawn announcing their news and passing out fliers. "King Heric calls to all citizens of Silverkeep: help the guards defend your city! At noon today, please gather in the main courtyard of the Mithral Keep and learn how!
It is now half an hour until noon, and you stand in the courtyard of the Mithral Keep. It is a large, open-air courtyard surrounded by the high, stone walls of the Mithral Keep. Small trees and plants grow in carefully-arranged gardens around the courtyard's periphery. A sturdy, raised stone platform stands ten feet higher than the main courtyard, and serves as a protected balcony for the royal family and for nobles of the court to view the courtyard from an elevated vantage point. Today, this balcony will serve as a podium when the king delivers his speech at noon.
In front of the balcony, a line of Silver Guards with halberds stands guard along its full length. From your positions in the main courtyard, you can see a short, rotund man standing atop the balcony speaking animatedly with one of the Mithral Guard. Behind them, a large, heavy oaken door leading into the main keep stands slightly ajar, and you can occasionally glimpse movement within. A pair of flags in the crimson and silver colors of Silverkeep fly proudly on either side of the door.
People are slowly trickling in to fill the courtyard. Reflecting the city's makeup, most are human, with a smattering of elves, dwarves, halflings and gnomes. As you entered the outer keep, you were instructed to turn in your weapons at the gatehouse. "With so many people gathering to see the king and with this war on, we're taking no chances about his safety. You'll have to relinquish your weapons and staffs here - don't worry, you'll get them back when you leave. Should you require a walking stick, we can provide one for you," the guard tells you.
The buzzing of conversation grows as people group together to discuss their expectations for the upcoming speech. The King's promise to address the fortunes of the war and the imminent threat to Silverkeep has drawn a number of people of apparently widely varied walks of life, many of whom seem eager for the potential opportunity to rub shoulders with nobility.
A rather young half-elf in common street clothes chats animatedly with the rest of the crowd, flitting from group to group soaking up rumors. His dark, lanky hair frames his boyish face, and he grins at the excitement of the situation, and earnestly expresses a desire to serve Silverkeep.
If asked his trade, he responds, "Well, I'm a novice assassin. I mean, right now I've put that on hold to serve my city, I hope, but afterwards if you need anyone killed, come find me at the Long Cat Tavern. Hey, never hurts to advertise, right?" Despite being more-or-less socially adept, he seems to miss or ignore the looks of horror (or, with equal frequency, confusion) that his spiel elicits.
A wiry and very well dressed man rolls his eyes in frustration at the guards as he disarms by making a dagger suddenly appear in each hand with a soft mechanical cha-thunk sound. He then gives them to the guard along with a good natured glare and joins the crowd, taking note of the enterprising and entrepreneurial assassin making the rounds.
While waiting, Caladrius amuses himself by waving to people he presumably knows up on the balcony. They do not wave back.
EDIT: Changed around some of the wording and added in a perception check DC 21 for those of you sharp eyed folk.
Amidst the crowd of people filing into the courtyard, a tall, well-built, but not imposing, human makes his way to the front of the line. With each step, his medium-length golden hair sways in breeze. He is dressed in very extravagant noble's clothing, decorated with small lapis lazuli gems sewn into it. He beams a sly smile upon making eye contact with other passersby in the crowd, particularly attractive young women.
When reaching the front of the line, the guard who is collecting weapons stops him, "Gareth? Where the hell have you been? You're supposed to be on perimeter duty!"
Gareth keeps on walking, giving him a condescending pat on the shoulder. "Good to see ya too Volinar. How's the wife and children?"
Volinar, clearly angered, pulls Gareth aside, "This is not a joking matter. As a member of the Silver Guard you have a duty to-"
Gareth cuts in, with a smile, "If there's any "duty" I have, it's to look good for the king. Relax. I switched to interior for today. And besides, I got a couple of presents, just for you."
The "presents" Gareth is referring to are his greatsword and his longbow, which he promptly puts into the collection bucket. "Take care of these puppies; this town's not gonna defend itself."
Volinar mutters under his breath, "You're gonna need more than that outfit to look good when I'm done with you."
As he enters the courtyard, Gareth pushes his way towards the front of the crowd with little difficulty. "Excuse me!" "Sorry sir" "Excuse me." "Oh hey Miranda" "Coming through"
He strikes up casual conversation with others around him as he waits for the speech to start...
Knowledge:Nobility check to read spoiler in OP:
Perception on Gareth:
Caladrius has clearly finished amusing himself trying to get a reaction out of the nobles on the balcony. He proceeds to look around for something else to do while waiting for the audience to start.
He sees Gareth moving through the crowd and heads over to take a look.
Gareth notices Caladrius in his very well dressed manner making his way over through the crowd. Gareth looks towards him at a distance and flashes a smile, while trying to place whether or not they have been acquainted before.
Knowledge Nobility:
Am I familiar with Caladrius?
Gareth notices Caladrius in his very well dressed manner making his way over through the crowd. Gareth looks towards him at a distance and flashes a smile, while trying to place whether or not they have been acquainted before.
Knowledge Nobility: 1d20+4
Am I familiar with Caladrius?
Not with that result!
"Move along, sir" says the guard, turning to the next person.
"Like hell you were!" Volinar exclaims, before remembering where he is. Drawing you inside the booth he hisses at you, "Look, I'll let it slide this once, but you owe me, Gareth. Capisce?"
Grumbling, he waves you in after instructing you to report any suspicious behavior or persons to the guards - "You know, one of us who does his job!"
A wiry and very well dressed man rolls his eyes in frustration at the guards as he disarms by making a dagger suddenly appear in each hand with a soft mechanical cha-thunk sound. He then gives them to the guard along with a good natured glare and joins the crowd, taking note of the enterprising and entrepreneurial assassin making the rounds.
While waiting, Caladrius amuses himself by waving to people he presumably knows up on the balcony. They do not wave back.
It's worth clarifying that the fat man and a pair of Mithral Guards are the only people on the balcony right now. Caladrius, the fat man glances briefly at you before returning to his conversation, but your waving elicits no other response.
A man in a dark grey travelers cloak strides into the room. He looks a little out of place in his dirt worn clothes among the rest of the tightly kept nobles.He places his sword the bucket, and places his longbow against the wall.
Pausing for a moment, the man asks the guard, "Do I also need to relinquish my shield."
The guard replies "Yes sir, no need for it in here."
Looking reluctant, the man unstraps his wolf-shield from his side and places it in the hands of the guard, and walks further into the room.
He takes the room in at a glance:
Perception:
and silently moves to a corner of the room, bringing his hood up.
A middle aged woman rushes into the courtyard and stops before reaching the guards to lean against a wall and catch her breath at the entrance to the courtyard. She takes a second to fix the bun her greying brown hair is tied into and adjusts her spectacles. In contrast to the generally grim, nervous and/or impatient atmosphere given off by the crowd, she has a small, excited smile on her face. When she starts to move into the courtyard, a guard stops her with a demand to take whatever weaponry she carries. Somewhat flustered, Eleri quickly produces an unremarkable dagger, then spends a minute trying to dislodge an old crossbow from her rather sizable backpack, quietly muttering some apologies to the guard.
The guard accepts the weapons along with the apologies and frowns. "Ma'am, most of the other people here are young men and women in their primes, outfitted with higher quality arms and armor. Are you sure that you want to volunteer? I mean, unless you're some sort of spellcaster, I don't see how you-"
Eleri cuts him off with a glare and rises to her full height. "I'll have you know, young man, that I am a wordcaster, and that I am just as capable of contributing to the city's defense as the more traditional mages are." Nodding sharply to the guard, she reshoulders her pack and storms off in a huff, working her way around the crowd to take shelter in the modest shade provided by one of the small trees where she starts muttering and whispering things to herself.
Gareth notices Caladrius in his very well dressed manner making his way over through the crowd. Gareth looks towards him at a distance and flashes a smile, while trying to place whether or not they have been acquainted before.
Knowledge Nobility: 1d20+4
Am I familiar with Caladrius?
Not with that result!
Gareth cocks his head slightly, trying to figure out who Caladrius is. He shifts through various names. "Orthelli, Orthalli, Orthellini... what was his name?" He's sure that the two have met. I mean, he's familiar with a number of nobles in Silverkeep. "It must have been at that party last year at that merchant's house, the one by the Merlin'he river. Come to think about it, I don't remember his name either..."
F*** it. Gareth decides to go with his gut.
He approaches Caladrius, pats him on the shoulder, and shakes his hand:
"Orthano, right? How's it going man? What are you doing here, protecting the city? You never seemed like the 'hero type'."
Caladrius returns the handshake.
So...Gaius...How have you been?
Caladrius returns the handshake.
So...Gaius...How have you been?
Gareth laughs. "Almost. It's Gareth. Gareth Aldridge. I'm sure you remember meeting me at that party last winter, right?"
EDIT:
Also, sense motive: Do I think that he recognizes me? Or is confusing me for someone else he knows better?
A dwarf who appears to just be approaching maturity and wearing what appears to be Dragonscale Breastplate walks in through the gate. He wields a quarterstaff in his hands and strapped across his back is another two handed weapon of dwarven make that appears to be of far finer quality than the piece of wood he carries in hand. When told by the guard he needs to relinquish his weapons, Baldor glowers at the man for a good ten seconds and then tosses both his weapons at the guards chest and heads into the courtyard without looking back. The guard glares after him and places the weapons with everyone elses. As Baldor makes his way through the crowd he does not bother with trying walk around everyone but merely jostles his way through the crowd, bumping people as he goes, eliciting several reproachful looks and a few glares. He leans against a wall and although he is approached by several people looking to make small talk but he discourages them with a gruff attitude. One rather plump merchant in particular thanks him for having sold so many precious gems to him, saying it had helped him get by. Baldor looks him up and down and stops at his waist and quirks an eyebrow replying "I'd say you've done more than get by" and then turns away. The merchant is left flabbergasted and storms away.
1d20+10
** spoiler omitted **
Upon studying Caladrius's blank facial expression and him ignoring his question, Gareth decides that he has chosen poorly. "Guess his name wasn't Orthano after all... there must have been something in the ale that night," he thinks to himself.
"Oh, I'm sorry sir. I must have mistaken you for a friend I have not seen in some time. You remind me of him. Which, trust me, is just as much of a good thing as it is a bad thing. Anyways, as I said, my name is Gareth. What do you go by?"
Diplomacy :
** spoiler omitted **
As people continue to move into the courtyard, a guard emerges onto the balcony and whispers in the fat man’s ear before returning inside the keep. The fat man approaches the end of the balcony and waves for silence.
“People of Silverkeep, it is my pleasure to introduce his majesty, King Heric the Wise.” He announces, as the main door opens behind him.
Flanked by four more guards, a tall man in his fifties with grey hair and beard, wearing a brilliant suit of mithral armor and carrying a regal-looking bastard sword sheathed at his side enters the room. On his head rests a gold crown in which a number of rubies are embedded and on which the seal of Silverkeep is embossed in mithral. Behind him, with two more guards, a bored-looking young woman with brown hair and wearing a crimson dress and a silver tiara enters as well. As the king approaches the balcony, the fat man briefly bows and moves behind him to stand alongside the young lady.
“Good people, thank you for coming,” he says. “Three days ago, our forces under Lord Hekkard took the city of Goldcrest, along with many of its leaders. However, while this would normally be cause for celebration, yesterday an army under Goldcrest’s Lord Urist Stronginthearm crushed one of our towns, Ram Keep, as well as the army defending it. He is believed to be marching with the intent to take Silverkeep itself. As our main army is under Lord Hekkard and currently engaged in stabilizing Goldcrest, they cannot come to our aid. As such, I ask each of you to help the city guard in preparing our defense of this city in however way you can. Please report to your local guard bases to learn how you can help.”
With that, the king turns and walks back into the keep, trailed by the rest of the group on the balcony.
With the king's speech at an end, the now-milling crowd begins to depart.
With the king's speech at an end, the now-milling crowd begins to depart.
** spoiler omitted **
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As he starts walking behind the page, he mutters under his breath, "This oughta be interesting..."
** spoiler omitted **
Eleri follows the guard through the side door.
"It's sensible to have a separate briefing for mages, I suppose. The musclebound sword-swingers need only stand on the walls and swing at whatever comes their way, but we casters offer many more tactical and strategic options. Speaking of strategy," she continues, taking the opportunity to voice her complaints to an underling, "whose idea was it to send a Lord to take the enemy city and some 'Sir' to defend our own territory? The skilled generals of old would always first put themselves beyond the possibility of defeat, then wait for the opportunity to defeat the enemy. This more aggressive strategy sounds like it was motivated by merchants who wanted a quick resolution so their businesses wouldn't be disrupted. Honestly, if the city wants war they should leave the decisions to the military, not the mercantiles. Not that I want the city to be run by the army, of course, but if we're going one way or the other I'd at least like to see it done competently. Furthermore-"
Eleri cuts herself off, realizing that she's been completely oblivious to her surroundings during her rant. Gods, she hopes that no one important was listening to her. Criticizing policy to a low ranking guard was one thing, but she certainly would be quite embarrassed if a higher-up heard her...
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
A few steps later, he casually remarks to one of the guards, "You know, I'd come here to join the defense against the Goldcrestians, but only a fool turns down unsolicited business, especially from one of the court, eh?"
After being approached by a guard, Martin seems to nod in agreement with something the guard said and begins following him in the direction indicated.
How the Perception DC was determined:
Hear the Details of a conversation: 0
Unfavorable conditions (room of people talking): +2
Distance +1/10 (Assuming about 20 ft because of room): +2
Creature making check is distracted (say by their own storyline): +5
Total: DC 9
As he follows the man Martin asks, "I'm sorry, but do you have any idea what this might be about? I mean obviously it's for the defense of Silverkeep, but I've been out of the loop for some time now, so why the special interest?"
Sense Motive: Does the guard seem to sense any danger, or seem nervous?
Guard's Bluff:
The guards seem to be notably on edge around you, with hands held close to weapons.
The guard seems annoyed that you're being offered a special mission, but is otherwise at ease.
Gareth motions towards Caladrius to follow him.
"Let's go!", he says as he opens the large wooden door...
Perception for Martin :
** spoiler omitted **
Perception for Martin : 1d20-2
Sense Motive
The fat man looks up from the papers he was reading and says "Ah, welcome! Please take a seat while we wait for the rest of our attendees." He waves you to a seat opposite him, where you see that a slip of paper with your name on it has been left on the table. Looking around, you see that other slips have been left in front of other seats. Each slip has a name on it. They read "Pygrado," "Eleri," "Baldor," "Martin," "Gareth," and "Caladrius."
Martin strides over to the table, carefully looking over the name placements, and then situates himself into his seat.
Turning to the others assembled there, he says with a grin, "Well, at least the seats are comfy."
** spoiler omitted **
As Martin strides over to the table, he notices a tall, blonde man leaning back in his chair in a comfortable position sitting behind the nametag "Gareth". He has in his hands a half-full bunch of grapes and is slowly picking one off at a time, throwing it up in the air, and catching it in his mouth. Every time he catches one in his mouth, he says a number, which you presume is the number he has caught in a row.
"22." He says to himself, with a smirk on his face. He tosses another about 8 feet up in the air, positions his mouth under its trajectory, and catches it in his teeth, biting and swallowing it in one motion. "23."
Upon Martin's comment, Gareth turns towards him, extending the grape bunch in his right hand. "You want some?"
Sense Motive d20+4
** spoiler omitted **
Pygrado walks into into the room and looks around. Seeing the two others already arrived and the nametags on the table, he walks over to the fat man and says softly but audibly:
"Begging your pardon, your honor, er, excellency, er, sir, but I usually work alone. From the looks of these two fellows, they'd like-as-not be more hindrance than help."
Martin eyes the grapes suspiciously, then thinking better of it says "Sure I'll have a grape".
then leaning closer, Martin asks in a hushed tone
Next to Gareth, a tall copper haired gentleman sits at the place marked "Caladrius". He is alternately fiddling with the clasp of his blue and gold cloak and eyeing Gareth's grapes as if resisting the uege to reach over and grab one out of the air.
He looks at the variety of people entering the room with increasing surprise at seeing each of them.
Perception
Pygrado says nothing to correct the misconceptions of the muscle clearly hired to "help" him.
Martin eyes the grapes suspiciously, then thinking better of it says "Sure I'll have a grape".
then leaning closer, Martin asks in a hushed tone
** spoiler omitted **
Gareth shrugs to Martin and hands him the rest of the grapes.
"Didn't say. Here, you can have the rest."After handing off the grapes, Gareth briefly pauses, grabs his nametag and turns back towards Martin, displaying it to him.
"Gareth Aldridge. And it looks like you must be..."
He immediately reaches for Martin's nametag. "...Martin?"
As you wait for the others to arrive, another guard walks in and whispers in the fat man's ear, handing him another sheaf of papers.
Bluff to pass secret messages:
The guard whispers, "Sir, the city guards have caught that miscreant you sent them after and are bringing him here. Do you want me to set out a place for him?"
The fat man grins enormously, saying "Hah! It looks like Lieutenant Radlar's information was good, after all. Yes, please do set a place for him!"
The guard writes something on a slip of paper and sets it in front of another seat before taking his leave. It reads "Jamros."
Caladrius makes a show of leaning back in his chair, but it is clear that he is straining to see and hear what the guard is doing.
Perception:
Perception
Knowledge(Local)
Pygrado stands impatiently behind the fat man for a bit as this exchange goes by and his question remains unanswered. Eventually comprehension dawns on him and he awkwardly walks to his seat opposite Martin. "It seems I misunderstood why I was here..." he grumbles under his breath to no one in particular, then, "Not that I can't still be of use."
Perception d20+7
Knowledge(Local) d20+6Pygrado stands impatiently behind the fat man for a bit as this exchange goes by and his question remains unanswered. Eventually comprehension dawns on him and he awkwardly walks to his seat opposite Martin. "It seems I misunderstood why I was here..." he grumbles under his breath to no one in particular, then, "Not that I can't still be of use."
2) It happens, don't worry about it.
"Gareth Aldridge. And it looks like you must be..."
He immediately reaches for Martin's nametag. "...Martin?""Ah yes, I'm Martin Stillwaters. I work as a local wilderness guide, helping lead expeditions in the area. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Two seconds..."
Martin pauses to listen to the guard with a letter.
Perception:"What was I saying, Oh yes. Garet Aldbridge, and what is it that you do, and who is this friend of yours?"
squinting at the card, "Caladrius?"
"So you're a wilderness guide, huh? I haven't been able to get out of the city much lately. I've been stuck here on duty with the Silver Guard for the most part. Specifically, I'm a trained archer."
He then turns to Caladrius.
"Oh, and yeah, this is Caladrius. We just met."
He leans in closely to Martin and says:
"But trust me, good luck trying to get a word out of this guy. At least he seemed pretty shy earlier."