Appario gives a knowing nod to Semenya, knowing how she talks in whispers.
"What do you think, Semenya?"
Appario gives a knowing nod to Semenya, knowing how she talks in whispers.
"What do you think, Semenya?"
Semenya nods to Appario as she looks at the price, and through the (retconned) Message cantrip, turns her head and says:
"Bring him to the dinner that Janiven will no doubt have planned tonight. If nothing else, maybe he'll give group discounts on steel to our motley band."
She then turns to face the forge, coming a little closer to the warmth of it, in spite of the heat of the day. "Fire has always called to me." She takes a long look into the banked coals. "I like your pricing. Can you find me similar on a crossbow, friend? Appario and I can bring you to those you seek."
Appario leaves the smithy, thanking the good Master Maddok for his time.
"It appears we shall meet again. A word of caution, first, my good friend. I have seen some abominations over the last few days from which their attacks I am lucky to survive. I see that you are a big strong man, but know this: we will face danger and we will bleed and die for our cause. If you join us, be certain of your abilities because I am not sure I can keep you safe."
Since Semenya and Appario are busy with their own things, Derek will take the chance to head back to the tavern, to meet that fascinating Jalki.
Part of him realizes he is being reckless, going there alone, but he is a priest of the lucky drunk, what could possibly go wrong in a tavern?
As he enters the tavern, he sits down at a table, he begins to compose a note, Jalki did say she did not plan on staying here for long.
"Dear Jalki, you will no doubt be pleased to learn that the Bastards are no more (if you don't know already), I believe we were talking about possible compensation, further enterprises or somesuch fine and long words. Now I'm leaving this note with the innkeeper, how about YOU come to MY tavern next time, directions are enclosed."
Derek hands the note to the bartender, asks him to give it to Jalki and then he heads to the theatre, time to prep Hannah.
The beer was good. Finest dwarven ale out of the dwarven lands he has tasted since leaving home those months ago. Granor gulped down the contents of the flagon and wiped his mouth stifling a burp with his sleave. There were women present, and he was careful not to make their stay at the inn unpleasant.
"Barkeep, could you pour me another one of these amazing ales? I have traveled the world some, and this, my friend is some of the best ale i have drank since leaving the dwarven lands. A blessing upon your establishment. Also, do you have some dwarven hard liquor perhaps?"
He smiled pleasantly and looked around waiting for a refill. He noticed a man scribbling on a sheet of parchment. If he looks his way he smiles pleasantly and says:
"A great place to have a good long drink, wouldn't you agree?"
Derek looks up in surprise at being adressed, but once he hears what is being said he grins.
"No no no my Dwarven friend, it is not. Tis a fine place to have THREE long good drinks. The first to take the edge of your day, the second to mellow your mood and the third one just enough to get you nicely drunk."
Derek motions to the bar.
"Have you tried the black breath stout? They make it from holy grain you know, blessed by the church of Gozreh. Of course, Dwarven stout packs more of a punch, but you'd know that already yes? I'm a bit of a brewer myself, currently trying to blend ale spiced with saffron. Too expensive to market, but I'll make one batch anyway."
"No, i have not, but it will immediately be rectified, barkeep, a black breath stout for me and my friend here"
Granor grins at the man.
"I'm a bit of a brewer myself, but spirits aren't my thing if you catch my drift. It is heartwarming to see a smiling face in this damned city after six weeks. I hope you have time to share some of this maginificent ale with me, or two"
Granor chuckles and accepts the beer from the barkeep and hands one to Derek.
"I don't remember asking for your name, forgive me for being so rude. I am Granor Goldenbeard, you could say a dwarf on a mission. What is a name you go by?"
"Haha, I see you are not a man who often visits the theatre, if you were you might know me by name already. I am Derek Keegan, of the Keegan acting company, Bard, Ordained priest of Cayden Caelian, swashbuckler and leading man in more than a few plays."
Derek tips his brightly plumed hat, and bows low enough for the feather to brush the floor.
"A brewer, but not of spirits? Magical potions then? an alchemist? Ah, but I could guess for hours, and I just might, afterall, there is not time for drink like the present, as the placars of wisdom teaches us."
"There are smiles in Cheliax to be sure, but I guess Westcrown is a bit of an exception sadly. Enough about that, what mission if you don't mind me asking?"
"Semenya, would you like to go anyplace on the way home? I need to stop off at the Church of Abadar and drop off my books and my tithe. Would you like to accompany me? Despite our recent victories, I'm not sure I believe these streets are safe."
Appario jingles the coins in his pocket that are meant for the Church.
"Semenya, would you like to go anyplace on the way home? I need to stop off at the Church of Abadar and drop off my books and my tithe. Would you like to accompany me? Despite our recent victories, I'm not sure I believe these streets are safe."
Appario jingles the coins in his pocket that are meant for the Church.
Semenya slides her coins over for the axe, (OOC note, the GM has basically said we swapped the MW weapons for the discount on the +1 breastplate, so don't adjust coin values either way).
"I'd like to hit up Goremor's and see if he's still got some inventory - or if the recent rise in banditry is causing him some problems. It's a little out of your way to the Temple, but only a bit. If watching me waggle sticks and discuss arcana isn't your idea of fun, I will certainly not object to you heading on to your errand while we're there, and meeting you at the Temple later."
"I'd appreciate the company on the walk." She offers her arm.
"A pleasure to meet you it is, Derek. I have heard of you, but as of now i haven't had the time to visit the theater. A fellow priest? I am also a priest. Torag is my god."
Granor bows again and takes his seat.
"Well, potions mostly, yes, but i do endeavor to make good mead. Let us drink then, for the smiles of Cheliax, may they blossom again"
He then leans closer to Derek, but not too much as not to arouse suspicion and says:
"As for my mission, only the group leader knows why exactly are we here, and it is not mine to question his authoruty, but i am here on a mission of my own. To help whoever i can however i can. TO bring smiles back on people's faces if you will"
He smiles and takes a long drink.
Derek leans back, crosses his arms over his chest and studies the dwarf carefully, then a twinkle forms in his eyes. Slowly he leans forward; in a very theatrical fashion as a mischievous grin splay across his lips.
"Tell me master Goldbeard, are you any good at gardening?"
Granor was confused for a split second, a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. But then he remembered. A slow, big smile spread across his face. A very mischievous smile. A smile that would have earned him either a kiss or a slap from a pretty lass.
"Why yes, i make such beautiful gardens. Why? Do you need a hand with your gardening?"
"Just the man then, one can always use an extra rake to clear the path you know? Tell you what, why don't we take a little bit of a look at the garden path area? Drink up and let's be off, no time like the present. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can do some SERIOUS drinking."
Derek stands up, drains his tankard in one long but still pleasurable pull and sets it down on the table.
"Some folk o'er the water think bitter is fine,
others they swear by the juice of the vine.
But theres nothing that's squeezed from the grain or the hop,
like the black liquidation with the froth on the top."
"Drink it up men, it's long after ten!"
Derek bows and indicates the door.
"Shall we?"
Granor finished his ale why Derek sang, pretty good actualy, gave him a clap in appreciation and stood up, looking at the man from below.
"If your singing skills are as good as your gardening skills, i think that this will be fun."
He nods and goes with the man, his short feet pumping a little to keep with his longer strides
"Tell me master Keegan, will i be needing my gardening equipment right now? Or shall i fetch it at a later time?"
Appario thanks Semenya for the company. "My visit to the Church will take but a moment. If you think I count coin fast, wait until you see the scribes there. I bet I could jingle this purse and they would know it's number by sound. Come, I'll show you, then I'll join you at the wand shop."
* * *
At the Church of Abadar, Appario will ask to speak to the head priest wherein he will present his books, coin, and quick verbal report of his activities and connections in the marketplace.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it? Abadar is an efficient god, for there is more profit in such. We cannot be out making money if we are tied into long reports and needless meetings."
Having done his tithing, he will join Semenya at Goremor's.
"Now, what kind of wand did you mean to buy? And what sort of merchant is Goremor? Do you think he'd be interested in the protection services of the Church? I can offer a good rate..."
"No worries master Goldbeard, your tools can rest for the night, for now we shall merely meet the head gardener, he will be able to explain what bushes we need to trim, what weed we need to clear out, and what flowers we can cultivate."
Derek leads the way, walking with a somewhat theatrical swagger, whistling a jolly tune all the while.
"You know, Cayden Caelian saved my life in a way, well not literally of course, that would have been an adventure. Unless of course my friend Appario is Cayden in disguise? I'll have to ask him that, it would be just like them both, a god masquerading as a Paladin of another god. Cheeky bugger! I'll just ask him if he wants to take the test of the starstone, if he says something along the line of "Nah, did that already" I guess I'll have my answer eh?"
Derek chuckles at his rather over the top jest.
Granor chuckled, Derek seemed good company, especially for appreciating alcohol in fair amounts.
"You would at that. But, you have friends who garden with you i take it. Tell me of them, please, if it is not too much of a bother"
He looks around his eyes scanning the surroundings, looking at people and seeing forlorn, lost looks on their faces. He makes a sad face.
"Well, first there is Appario, he is one mean bastard, in the sense that he uses a bastard sword, and is competent with it, pretty skilled in fact. Paladin of Arabar of all gods, so he is a little stuffy, but for a Paladin he is alright."
"Second is Lady Semenya, quite an exotic beauty you know. Some say half orcs are ugly, but for her, it only serves to make her more alluring. Sorceress by trade. She likes to set enemies on fire, good at it too."
"The head gardener and his second in command should be allowed to introduce themselves I think, but they are decent sorts."
"Of my fellow gardeners I know lady Amya best, she is a beauty, exotic too, From Tian I think, so she stands out in a crowd. I'm mentoring her in the magic of song and dance."
"You know, while he was alive, Cayden Caelian was quite the womanizer, but no woman ever complained. This means that there are quite a few who could claim divine blood, of course he was mortal when he sired them, so the claim is a little rocky. But for all I know, my grandfather in many lines down could be a god haha."
"We had two other friends before, one left and one dissapeared, pity really, Arodio was crude and rude, but skilled with a flail, and Eklektos had a way with nature..."
Granor listened to Derek and nodded while doing it. He was right. This was going to be fun. He never dreamed that he would stumble upon the very people he was hoping to meet. Gardeners. The protectors of the opressed. He was feeling at home.
"They all sound very interesting i am sure. I will be delighted to meet them all. Earlier, you said that Cayden Caelian saved your life? Pray tell how. I yearn for a good story, haven't herd one two towns back.
Semenya leads Appario to Goremor's, a reasonably prosperous merchant who makes public obeisances to the Asmodean church - he regularly pays to have the blessings of law renewed on his door lintels, and makes sure the pentacle is painted bright red.
Goremor himself is a charismatic gnome, and the shop is effectively a long narrow room, with nooks, crannies and racks and racks of papers, plus oddities. There are sheets of vellum, with claims that they represent pre-formed and pre-paid contracts with otherworldly entities of "useful ability". There's an astrolabe emblazoned with the Winged Eye of Aroden that he swears will align true when the First Azlant returns. Books of history. A treatise on accounting stamped with the filligree'd scales of Abadar. Towards the back of the room, where the counter lies, are racks of wands behind clouded glass, and niches, like a wine rack, filled with scrolls cubby holes, and bottles with labels on them.
Semenya greets him warmly - and says in Infernal - "Blessings be, if blessings are needed." Goremor gestures with his eyes briefly to two other patrons in the shop.
"Oooh, that's a long story. I'll tell you the whole of it someday. For now, let's just say that I was a lot like my father not too long ago, a wastrel, a drinker, a ne'er do well that would have ended up in a shallow grave soon enough. But luck was with me, and one day I stumbled into a tavern that was also a temple to Cayden, I took to the faith like a drunk to the barrel, I was ordained within the week."
"I still drink of course, i mean, you can't worship the lucky drunk and not do that, but it's under control now, I don't get out of control drunk anymore, I spend my life doing good, I'm a swashbuckler, priest and an actor. If not for the faith, I'd just be a drunk."
"The only one happier than me is my grandfather, he got his grandchild back, didn't have to see him slip away like his son, my worthless father. I'm one of his star actors now, and he is proud of me. Family is important, and mine is finally free of my idiocy."
"I can't tell you more right now, or I'd have to kill you."
Derek looks completely serious for all of 5 seconds, before breaking out in a laugh.
"That was from "Lord Meadows goes to market" by the way, I made a fine Cedric in that one."
Derek motions to the door.
"Here we are then, let me introduce you to the boss man."
Derek knocks on the door and then steps into the old temple.
"Hey Arael, we got a visitor, come say hello."
Granor stood entered with Derek looking around and then waited patiently to be introduced to the people.
Unless Are wants to do so, I'll be handling Goremor's dialog. [/ooc]
"Greetings Master Goremor! You are friends with my friend, Semenya? I am Appario. I do business for the Church of Abadar. Semenya tells me that she can find the quality items she needs here. After our recent experiences in this city, I have no doubt that we will need them greatly."
Appario offers his hand to Goremor should he wish to shake, then will look about the store admiring the trinkets and goods.
A handsome half-elf responds to Derek's call. "Ah, young Derek has brought a new friend to us! Come and join us in setting up for this evening's feast!" He shakes Granor's hand, then introduces him to the others present. "This is Janiven, my right-hand man." The fiery-looking young woman sends him a stern look, and he quickly continues. "Right-hand woman, I should say. My young assistant here goes by the name Morosino, and the beautiful young lady over there who is gushing over Derek as we speak is Amaya."
He is interrupted by a loud voice. "A dwarf! Look what the cat dragged in! When did you come down from the mountains, eh?" The owner of the voice is easily identified as a plump gnome woman standing a little aside from the rest of the people in the room. Eyes are rolled throughout the room at her words, and Arael says "That is Yakupolio. Bartender by trade, and gruff with her words. But, we need as many as we can get to champion the cause."
A middle-aged halfling woman who looks as if she's been setting up parties all her life sweeps up to Arael and Granor and wiggles a finger at Arael. "Now, don't go around dilly-dallying too much when there's work to be done! Why don't you two bring the casks from the cellar?" Moving on as if expecting the order to be followed, she pinches Derek's cheek as he tries to escape Amaya's embrace. "No time for that, young man. There's tablecloths to be fetched from the loft. Go on!"
Arael shakes his head as the halfling moves on, then claps Granor on the back. "That was Fiosa, and it's best not to disobey her when she's in that kind of mood. Let's go and fetch the ale. I hope it will be to your liking, but it's probably not as good as they make in your homeland."
Goremor replies in Infernal, "He's too polite to be a Hellknight, so blessings and piety probably need not be so...overt."
He extends his hand to Appario, switching to Taldane. "Goremor, procurator of the flotsam of life and history." He cocks his head as Appario speaks, one of his ears twitching independently. "That burr on your consonants means you speak true Taldane, from, hmm. The western part of the country?" His eyes twinkle and he hops off of the stool.
"Semenya and Delwood have both hired me on as a consultant at times." He waddles about, touching various items. "Sometimes I identify forged documents. Sometimes I sell the real ones." He touches the gold filligree on the accounting treatise as he says that last.
"Messy business with those people vanishing in the nights."
Granor bowed respectfully to everyone named and gave them friendly smiles.
To the gnome woman he gave a deep bow that mopped the floor with his beard.
"I know a thing or too about harsh mistresses" he said smiling "We best go and fetch the ale then. Do not worry about the quality. An ale offered in friendship tastes like the finest wine"
He followed Arael down into the cellar to fetch the kegs of ale.
A bit surprised at the impression he has made on Amaya, Derek still grins a little as he climbs the loft.
"Did I always have this effect on women? Possibly...I was drunk a lot of the time, might just have forgotten." Derek mutters to himself as he retrieves the tablecloth. He makes sure to not take one that looks too good, just in case the mood for a little table dancing might strike him later on.
As he begins to put the cloth on the tables he begins to sing again.
"I've traveled through countries, all done by chance.
At the sound of good music, I'll sing or I'll dance.
So hear me then mister and pour me one more,
If I can'ae drink it up, then throw me out the door."
"Drink it up men, it's long after ten."
Derek smiles and rubs his hands, afterall, a cask was being brought up, and he was just in the mood to do a little "blessing" at the moment.
Granor went down the stairs, and then, when he heard Arael stumble remembered that other people actually can't see in total darkness.
Several getures and a few words muttered and moments later, his birthmark shone like a lamp, illuminating everything around him.
"I apologize, Arael, i have always lived with dwarves. I tend to forget that others cannot see in darkness. I hope this helps" he said apologetically.
They went down the stairs and found the kegs. Trying to lift one with a single hand was not going to be easy, but Granor tried nevertheless.
The keg fell out of his hand and he had to grab it with both hands, plunging the cellar into darkness.
"Eh, maybe it's better if you get a torch down here? he said, ashamed of his clumsiness.
Appario tries to keep his face in check as the little gnome nearly nails his place of origin.
Bluff:
Appario just smiles after realizing how quickly he has been identified.
"I like you already, Master Goremor. You clearly have your wits about you and your business seems to thrive despite the bleak tidings on these streets. My friend and I..." Appario pauses to consider the risk of the other patron overhearing, but thinks nothing of it.
A chicken tender? In this store? She must be lost.
"...are doing what we can to bring light and order to these streets. What do you know about the shadows at night?"
"Ah, we half-elves aren't blind in darkness either, at least as long as it's not completely dark!" Arael takes another of the kegs, and introduces Granor to the rest of the people present when they return with the ale.
Amaya is a young, well-mannered and stunningly beautiful Tian woman. She works as a glassblower, and dresses plainly to downplay the effect of her appearance on others. She hopes to some day be able to visit her distant kin in Varisia and Tian Xia.
Ermolos is an incredibly muscular Chelish man, who works as an apprentice blacksmith. He has a slight limp due to a childhood illness. His father vanished on an ill-fated adventure several years ago, and Ermolos clings to the hope of one day being able to travel in his footsteps and find his father.
Fiosa is a halfling house servant who is friends with many of Westcrown's halfling slaves, and tries to help them whenever she can. She has a great deal of respect for Janiven and Arael after they helped her smuggle several slaves out of a particular heinous merchant's home, and she has since developed a strong faith in Arael's patron god Iomedae.
Gorvio is a young Chelish man who works part time for his uncle Jacovo. He has vibrant amber eyes, which, along with hints he's overheard from his uncle's occasional drunken bouts, have made him curious about his ancestry.
Larko is a Garundi male who lives a simple life as a dock worker, but daydreams of his childhood in the hills east of Westcrown. He hopes to one day be able to move out of the city and live a hunter's life. He's strong and silent, and seems to rarely speak unless he has to.
A thin and wiry Chelish woman, Mathalen used to work as a porter but found the job dreadfully dull. She got through her days by taking frequent breaks to meditate and purge her mind. This attitude struck her employer as laziness, and she was recently fired.
After stowing away on a ship headed for Westcrown, Rizzardo found himself more or less stuck here years ago. The Varisian male earns his keep working at a multitude of odd jobs, since he has to switch jobs frequently as a result of his temper and impatience at following orders.
A soft-spoken worshiper of Iomedae, Sclavo has long worked as a scribe for one of Westcrown's courts. The Garundi man hopes for a day when the laws of Cheliax can be reformed, and sees this group as a tool that can hasten this process.
Tarvi's parents own a prosperous jewelry store in Westcrown called "The Glitter Palace". She's worked there for years, but is far too witty and intelligent to focus her mind on the customers. She has engineered the failure of no less than a dozen attempts by her parents to get her married into nobility. Her true passion is studying magic, which leaves little time for romance.
Vitti is a strange, eccentric Chelish man who dyes his hair green and refuses to eat any food he doesn't grow or catch himself. His work as a woodcarver earns him a modest income, and he prides himself on only using wood that's been harvested from deadfalls or trees that died of natural causes.
Yakopulio is a noisy and irreverent gnome who wears her atheism proudly. Her eagerness to contradict and nitpick often sparks arguments among the group. She works as a bartender (and sometimes pimp) at the "Bruised Eel" tavern, and many of the others don't understand why Arael wants to associate with the offensive gnome.
Semenya makes a slight, slight hand gesture to Appario, moving her palm downwards a touch. A hint to keep voices down.
"Goremor, when I was in here last, you were trying to interest me a wand that would let me tend to shades and haunts and the like. Have you still got it, or have the Hellknights confiscated it out of fear of an armed populace?"
Goremor looks at Semenya, then at Appario, then at the mysterious woman with the peering chicken. He takes a key from his loop, and unlocks a cabinet, sliding some smoked glass panels out of the way. "This one, yes."
He looks at Appario, listening to what he says. "What I know about the shadowbeasts is this: They seem to dislike the light, and they seem to mostly ignore being attacked with weapons. It's like the weapon passes through them or some such." He rummages about. "Had a wand that would fix that; the local Hellknight sergeant bought it over coffee. I do have some scrolls that might serve, if you're interested?"
Semenya nods, and he pulls some scrolls out. "This is good for revealing things unseen. The Hellknights won't like you having it, but...given what you do, worth having, if you can afford it."
As Appario speaks a bit, and when Goremor is less uncomfortable, "I'd rather be paying your Temple for peacekeeping than the Hellknights, though I've reached my accommodation with them. If things ever improve, I'll be happy to switch contracts over."
Goremor either doesn't recognize the armbands, or is good enough at keeping a poker face to not notice them overtly.
Yahirma continues to lean over the counter, shifting her weight slightly from foot to foot as she peers at (but does not touch) a few of the wands in the glass cases.
to feign disinterest (Bluff)
to not attract more attention than she already has (Stealth)
As Goremor relates to Appario the nature of shadowbeasts, Yahirma blinks, and her eyes perform a quick double-take as her back straightens. With the shifting of the her hefty backpack, Yahirma's caged chicken softly clucks twice.
for Knowledge Religion
"By the description given, the shopkeep speaks of the Shadow-Walkers. They are creatures of darkness, cursed to consume the joy of others to balance a limitless debt incurred for their evil. Some are former victims who violently seek to recapture that same joy that was so cruelly stolen. Only spiritual energies may banish the deserving Shadow-Walkers, and only the spiritually aware can grant their victims rest."
The woman glances between Appario and Semenya, and Yahirma's gaze lingers both on the armbands and on the half-orc's dermal patterns. The traveler's recitation ends abruptly, perhaps as if no more need be said or as if provoking response.
Semenya looks at the shorter woman, again surprised by the clucking chicken. "They've been growing more common here. Some have wondered if they've been let loose to terrorize the citizenry, to make them decide the Hellknights, as odious as they are, are a better alternative."
She gives Appario a quick look, her cloak sliding over that armband. Goremor peers up at the woman from his daunting three feet of height.
"What else would you know, hmm?" he says.
Appario jumps when the woman speaks, unaware that she would be listening, and he composing in his mind what to say next to Master Goremor.
Recovering quickly, Appario looks over the woman again, this time noticing more about her.
She is beautiful, this one...and her eyes, they do not match.
"What? What do you know of these things? How do you know it?"
With a slow flourish of her hand, Yahirma elaborates.
"With due respect to this shop, which seems to keep healthy while selling the healthful, this city carries some illness. I have been here but a short time, and already I can sense the malaise that stalks the streets. The Iron Devils strut like proud goatherds among the flock, and the people seem content to nibble the thorn scrub when lusher fare is just in reach. Like Upriver folk, these common people refuse to meet my eyes - as if I possessed the personal Mana to strike them blind!"
She unburdens her backpack and places it on the floor, where the leather bag briefly appears to try and scuttle away from the woman before she reins it in with a sharp tug. Yahirma loosens a few straps - one of which slowly tries to snake around her wrist before she shakes it off - and frees a carved staff of dark wood, to which is attached a few sweet-smelling, egg-sized pouches of leather. The whole apparatus clacks quietly as Yahirma straightens and sets the butt of the staff on the tiles.
"There are many creatures of shadow in this world, and I cannot confirm or deny the Shadow-Walkers are they. Even so, the duties of Kindo Kane fall on my shoulders, though I do not carry the Spear. If the community's ailment is caused by such villains, then purification is in order."
She clacks the butt of the staff against the floor as if to emphasize her end punctuation.
"I will not know the nature of the beast until I see it with my own eyes. None of you strike me as Speakers, though you two" - she motions to Semenya and Goremor - "seem to speak the Speech. Have you lived here long enough to recognize the beasts' taint?"
Mana? Kindo Kane? Speakers?
Appario watches her drop her pack and wonders at her strength to carry such a heavy load so easily. She must be nothing but muscles under those robes. Or part mule. Where was she when I was lugging all the gear a few days ago?
Know (Religion)
Ah, I know those. And to think I almost got assigned to Bloodcove, my preparations for that were not in vain. This woman is less crazy than she appears.
"Greetings Mistress. Do I recognize your patrons correctly in thinking you are from the far lands of the Mwangi?"
Appario pauses for her accent.
"And you have powers or abilities to help with 'purification'? I would know more if you would speak it. I am not familiar enough with the duties of Kindo Kane, please tell me more." Appario stops talking, then begins again, sensing his own rudeness.
"Forgive me, I am Appario Lind, Soldier for the Merchant God. This is Lady Semenya, a friend of mine. And this is Master Goremor, owner of this establishment as you have no doubt surmised."
"My business associate and I have been investigating a number of things; Delwood decided that caution was wiser than action." That to Goremor, to answer a question as yet unasked. "We've been noticing missing persons, a general decline in the quality of life, and an increase in business. Which, when you investigate missing persons, disputes over inheritances, and thefts, is never a healthy sign."
She shifts to Infernal. "Speaking the language of the Prince of Lies allows one to overhear things that might otherwise go un-noticed." And with that, she shrugs, slouches - taking a good three inches off of her height - and shifts her bangs forward to cover her face, shifting her jaw forward to make her tusks more prominent.
She is still Semenya, but were it not for the axe strapped across her chest, you could put a broom in her hand and she'd blend into the furniture. Instead of being 6' tall and robust, she now looks 5'9" and somewhat dumpy and shapeless.
"Sometimes, it comes in handy to go without notice." She straightens. "Is that a knack you possess?" She gestures to the bindlestaff and cage.
She gestures to Appario. "He and I have use of people with knowledge." She smiles at Goremor... "And a willingness to take risks, which my good friend the bookseller prudently avoids."
Goremor turns to the Human woman, and says, in Infernal, "When one has to deal with Hellknights, being able to speak the language of their priests and commanders means your shop is less likely to face random inspections. It's all about blending in." He shifts to Common again, and says to Appario, "I sincerely hope that circumstances allow me to do business with you in the future. As a way of subtly signalling progress on that front..." He again, pets the book with the filligree'd scales of Abadar on the front leather. "Feel free to drop in at any time to discuss this book, or any others...of interest. You will understand that I cannot lend them as a library, but I'll let you do some research here."
He flips open the frontspiece of the book for Appario to read. "For now, we keep pretenses that you and I are haggling over the price...but when you can buy this book from me with a clear conscience, I will be quite happy to pay you rather than the Asmodeans for assorted...services."
to judge the intentions of these new faces
Eying the three, Yahirma concludes that she need not resort to blatant misdirection.
"In this land I have no titles. I am simply Yahirma" she says, as you notice she pronounces her name with a glottal stop on the 'h.' "Kindo Kane is the One Who Stands at the Gate, the one who keeps sealed the nocturnal fiends. The tale of how he climbed the heights and claimed..." She pauses, mouthing possible translations "...Distant Dark-Finding Fang is a story reserved for more solemn events than even a portentous meeting such as this. If Shadows-Walkers walk alongside the people, then shame mars the brow of Kindo Kane."
She clacks the staff against the floor twice more in quick succession, and the caged chicken gives a cautious but curious "bwaack?"
"I have some means to throw out possessing spirits and to bring memories of former lives back to the restless dead. It may be but a tributary to the raging river needed to cleanse this place, but then a thin trickle does not feed the river by itself."
"I am sure I can adopt what you demonstrate, but in my line of work one rarely has need to hide in plain sight. In my short stay here I can already see how that would be of use. When The Serpent King crawls, few notice his passing; so too can I tread softly, though others might know me for the snake were they to step on me accidentally. Some Shadows would not distinguish between friend and foe, and in such circumstances I prefer not being seen at all."
Appario begins to say one thing, but then changes his mind, realizing that what he was about to say was no longer necessary.
"Mistress, uhm, forgive me, just Yahirma, I would be honored if you'd accompany Semenya and I to visit some friends. I think there are people that you should meet. I want to hear more of your story and I think they would hear it as well. Would you deign to consider this bizarre request?"
"Friends implies a community, and a healthy community is central to the cleansing. I would appreciate the introduction, as your request is not the most bizarre thing I have witnessed here. The fewer such oddities I encounter before making some sense of this land, the better.
In picking up her equipment, she seems conflicted. Shaking her head, she lifts up the cage and peers at the chicken. The bird shies away, squeezing against the opposite side of the cage as if familiar with what this sort of action means, but Yahirma mutters "Questions for another day" as she swings the backpack onto her back and walks confidently over to Appario to stand a mere foot away from him.
"You will accept my apology. I should not be so quick to pass judgment on your homeland."
Without waiting for a response, she strides over to the door and steps outside. Waiting a few seconds, Yahirma turns back and says "I accept your offer. Now, Guide Appario Lind, speak your guidance and show me the way to your meeting place."
Appario, sensing no other option, accepts the apology, though he is not sure why...this is not his homeland. Appario moves to help the woman with her pack, stunned at the weight that she carries so easily.
"Master Goremor, please hold this book for me. Wait, actually, I may or may not be back for it. It seems deeply interesting and I would learn more from it, but do not wish to buy it this day."
Appario puts the book back where he found it.
"Semenya, if you have concluded your business here, we must be going. The day has gotten away from us and it is nearly dark. We are expected elsewhere AND we still need to swing back and pick up Maddok."
Semenya nods, and turns towards Goremor, who has bundled up the wand of Magic Missile and the scrolls. He glances at Appario, as he talks to Yahirma, eyes his back carefully. He vanishes in back for a moment and then returns with another wand. "They really won't want you to have this one. Use it on him before you get into a scrape. Or anyone else who's going to be hacking people trying to get close to you."
Semenya and the merchant talk back and forth for a moment, on pricing. She pays him appropriately, and tucks her newfound possessions onto her belt.
"Ready, Appario."
Stepping outside the door, Appario waves a goodbye to Master Goremor.
"This might seem weird, Yahirma, but we must go pick up another guest for tonight. He is a smith and, not unlike yourself, concerned with the troubles of this City."
Appario begins to lead the group back to the Maddok's smithery.
Maddok stands in front of his smithy looking as inconspicuous as the big Shoanit possibly can. He has cleaned up some, free of the soot and grime of his day's work at least. He is dressed in an open-front plain leather vest, revealing the collection of scars and tattoos running down his barrel chest, and loose breeches of a similar material. Over one broad shoulder a large hide sack hangs.
Seeing Appario and the others approaching he moves to meet them.
"Lead the way".
Semenya smiles. "I see you've brought your gardening implements. Appario, you've met. Yahirma" She gestures to the Mwangi woman "is also interested in meeting the rest of the club. Her interest lies with the beasts." At this point the chicken clucks.
"Appario, let us make what haste we can without leading too many after us."
Perception to see if they are being followed.
Looking over his shoulder before moving on, Appario considers what he is doing. I left here to go shopping for weapons, but I come back empty handed.
Looking at his two new companions, Appario tries to size them up and judge their intents. The big one is big. Looks strong. The other one is smaller, but perhaps equally as strong.
Sometimes gardeners cut away plants, other times they harvest and plant. It appears I have been a little of each recently.
Perception to see if they are being followed.
* * *
Entering the building, Appario will check to see who is there.
"Has the ale keg been tapped yet?" Appario asks, eager.
The big Shoanti nods sharply while looking over the women. His gaze lingers just a little bit longer on Yahirma.
"Greetings chaandask".
He presses his fist to his pectoral briefly in some sort of salute.
"Maddok".
~~~
Entering the safehouse Maddok is visibly surprised, almost disappointed. He stands at the entrance taking in the surroundings - unsure if he should enter.