You're right Esfana, we have to talk to this mage. And I think our snake tongued friend here, Side glance at Alexite will have his opportunity to prove the worth of his tongue, or I will have to rip it out and burn it, to atone his blasphemous speeches.
Alexite gives his own sidelong glance to Torald and in a low, lust filled voice says, 'You Iomedites are kinky. It seems I finally got a rise out of you, but I think we should be careful. Esfana is sensitive and may become jealous if we keep flirting in front of her.' He gives Torald a wink and continues, 'Besides, I'm not into necromancers. I find they have a limp sense of humour.'
Gesturing back towards the entrance of the temple, Alexite states, 'We could stay here and partake of the wonders that your fellow clergy were so thoughtful as to lay out for us when they, he breaks to bow to the leader of the temple, 'very considerately built this temple in the midst of the red light district.'
Alexite gives his own sidelong glance to Torald and in a low, lust filled voice says, 'You Iomedites are kinky. It seems I finally got a rise out of you, but I think we should be careful. Esfana is sensitive and may become jealous if we keep flirting in front of her
Esfana turns towards Alexite and gives him a provocatory glance, saying :"I may be sensitive, but i'm not so desperate.When i'm you'll be the first to know"
"Asking some questions won't kill us Alexite,or am i not the only coward here?" Esfana smirks toward the bard.
Sir Laval of Gorn looks to Alexite, frowns slightly, then laughs out loud and heartily
Though you didn't introduce yourself properly I think I know your kind of bard - always the witty joke, ha!
You should really visit the Shelyn temple.
He points to the eastern metal gate.
Leaving the Hospice behind you, you soon notice that Ankar-Te is a different world in itself.
Situated within the gigantic city walls, barred from the sun and the sky, this district is by far the most exotic place all of you ever visited.
People from all of Golarion roam the streets of the district. You see slavers from the Mwangi Expanse, fierce raiders from the Linnorm Lands, Keleshites and colourfully dressed traders from Osirion.
Strange yellow lanters illuminate the darkness, and rooms, flats and apartments are built into the sides of the city walls. Space is scarce and everything is densely arranged.
From time to time you see strange metal pyramids and boxes carried around by zombie sedan chair carriers. They are always accompanied by a praying and yelling crowd of near ecstatic people that beg for alms for their "godesses", inside the boxes.
Ankar-Te's ground level is crammed with shops, taverns and many strange sellers of curios.
Best of luck for him, Now I keep both hand's fingers crossed.
I'll pause our thread until I hear news from you.
Dragging through the crammed streets of Ankar-Te you are getting more and more excited or disgusted about the strange sights you witness.
At last between a brothel and a very noisy tavern, you find the "Revive for a better Life". It's a very skew building made of some kind of black wood. In front of the shop a line of coffins is lined up .
Instead of a door only a dark red curtain hangs in a hole in the front of the building.
As you approach the place you notice a troll sitting on the opposite side of the road, cutting some of his intestinals out and throwing them on a silver plate to his feet.
Some passers-by halt at the sight and fearful whispers are exchanged.
Trying hard not to throw up all she had for breakfast, Esfana quickly turns her eyes elsewhere, to not stare at the revolting performance of the troll.
"OH! Goddess, how can people here live with such views everyday ?" she thinks.
Then she focuses on the shop entry.
"Well, here we are.Any idea on how to handle this, anyone?"
"Well, here we are.Any idea on how to handle this, anyone?"
'I recommend we start with the taverns nearby. If we're lucky, we'll actually run into him while he's drinking and less wary. If not, we have an opportunity to gauge the locals and how they perceive his alleged actions.'
A rusty plate at the front of the tavern depicts a severed monkey head with rolling eyes. About a half dozen lanterns hangs chaotically arranged on the facade of the tavern and you hear loud noises from the opened windows.
In front of the door a group of three colourfully dressed men, probably Sczarnis, are standing around a pub table and watch the troll vigilantly. You notice that all of them are armed with nasty looking curved knives and judging from the way they eye the customers of the tavern they could be some kind of bouncers.
Randovich surveys the building suspiciously.
"Is it even safe for a mage to frequent such a place? I'd think that their abilities, combined with the lowered inhibitions of their drink and the volatile patrons would be a recipe for disaster."
The young Varisian extends a leery gaze towards the Sczarnis at the door, unsure of what to make of them.
Randovich surveys the building suspiciously.
"Is it even safe for a mage to frequent such a place? I'd think that their abilities, combined with the lowered inhibitions of their drink and the volatile patrons would be a recipe for disaster."
The young Varisian extends a leery gaze towards the Sczarnis at the door, unsure of what to make of them.
”From what i've seen so far, and it is just one day, this place is safe for ”
Esfana eyed widely the bouncers-like men, they remind her of the bouncer of the Shiny Walking Stick,and she finds she isn't very happy to ask them if the party can enter, but why they should stop potential customers?”Let's go in then, but i warn you, if those bouncers make some joke about their beds and my body like the one of the Shiny Walking Stick i won't answer for my actions”
While you enter the tavern, the bouncers barely seem to notice you, they are far too distrcted by the disgusting spectacle the troll offers.
The tavern is a filthy and smelly mess: On the ground, a thick coating of sawdust soaks up most of the puke and other fluids the customers "lose" during their visits and the whole interior, chairs and tables are in a miserable conditions. With a quick gaze you recognize most of the drunkards as members of the lower classes. Peons, cutthroats and other shady elements spend their time here.
Some are obviously Varisians, other seem to hail from regions all over Golarion.
On the right is a long bar where two wenches serve cheap beer, on the left are several tables and in the back is a podium, which is empty at the moment.
Having no idea of the appearance of the necromancer, Esfana will simply ask the wenches about this mr. Esulan Worsch
The busty - while not very attractive - wench looks up from drawing a dark ale. She sweeps two strands of greasy hair aside and seems to think about your question for a moment or two.
Worsh, eh? No sorry, ne'er heard tha' name.
You can't avoid the feeling that the bar wench has a problem with women - good looking ones in particular. Maybe a little bit of female fraternisation could help - or just let one of the guys ask for more information.
"Sorry to have troubled you, i'll leave you to your work"
Esfana then walks up to Alexite, being careful the busty girl isn't watching her talking with the dirge
Esfana smiles to the storyteller
Leaning in to Esfana as she speaks, Alexite smiles. He saunters over to the bar. Standing in profile to the bar, he places his elbow on the counter and leans towards the wench with his best cheshire cat grin. 'Hellloo[/]!' He drawls. '[b]What are you serving that won't immediately put me in my grave?'
The slightly vagrant Elf wanders in, paying attention to not much in particular, and seems rather aloof to the general goings on at the Inn.
You notice creeping in the gloom is a large inky cat the size of a leopard trailing him at his heels, like a living shadow.
The Elf's non-commital wandering finds him standing near the bar, listening to the discourse amongst the humans. He casually draws an apple from his pocket and begins to quietly munch away.
Still maintining his aloof fascade, you note his eyes are scanning the place like a predator weighing up its environment, determining whether he might be the hunter or the hunted, and whether anything is particularly out of place.
The woman looks up and a wide - but partially toothless - grin spreads across her face. She turns around, just to see if you really meant her, then her smile becomes even wider.
Dear sir, I'd recommend the Garrivan 05, the bes' wine we serve. You mus' be new to Ankar Te, Ha'en't seen ye aroun' here.
Even in metropolitan Ankar-Te the sight of the elf is an unusual one. He draws a lot of curious gazes and some of the most courageous drunkards even dare to try to touch the cat - in the end all of them are reminded by a low growl to know better.
There's not much about the tavern beyond the obvious. But then suddenly you notice a small, hunched man dragging along one of the walls always trying to hide behind one of the more drunken customers.
while Esfana and Alexite are talking with the wench, Torald is standing with his back to the counter getting an overview of the customers, looking for possible trouble.
Perception
Sense Motive
Turning to Esfana and Alexite:
I might have found our man. I'm going to talk to him.
Then he walks to the hunched man, paying attention to stay between the entrance and the man.
Greetings good man, might I be right to assume that your name is Esulan Worsch.
Due to your iomedite training you quickly gather enough self control not to flinch at the man's sight. His face is a ruined chaos of scars and other old injuries. His left eye is only a milky-white knob in its socket and his teeth are also in a miserable condition. His healty eye though reminds you of a forge fire - a swirl of black and red slowly shifting its colour from time to time, dancing ariund his pupil.
With a voice that somehow sounds hollow and threatening at the same time he adresses you with a vile grin
That could be true indeed, nevertheless, it's always essential for survival in Ankar-Te to be careful when one meets strangers. So, what is it: Business, information or something unpleasant my unknown friend?
Noticing Torald going toward the scarred man:
"Of course he could not be a handsome young kind guy,what the hell is wrong with this city ? Holy Iomedae" Esfana thinks.
She waits for the outcome of Torald conversation.
We could call it something of all that. I arrived lately here in Kaer Mage and have to be informed that a fellow Iomedite of mine has disappeared here in Ankar-Te. His name is Timodeus. Now I have been told that you are one man, that sees most men, who can't stand on their feet for them self.
The hunched man emits a cackling laughter, pulls his robe back from his wrist and shows you a tattoo which depicts a pentagram encircled by skulls.
So, people told you I was a mortician, huh?
he eyes you tauntingly for a moment, then goes on
I'm the Great Animater, I'm Ankar Te's most succesful entrepeneur in the zombie slave business, I'm known as a ruthless and very dangerous necromancer and you just turn up here in my haven and try to ask me questions....dangerous questions about a missing priest of a godess who loathes everything I am?
during the last sentence his voice nearly doubles over and reminds you more of a shrieking vulture than a human's voice.
Noting the skulking man has been approached by the well armed and armoured Iomedians, Alcheringa maintains his aloof nonchalance and slowly drifts toward the conversation, trying to move to the necromancers side.
His eyes lock with that of his cat, and he briefly directs his gaze to the haggard necromancer and back again, then nods.
It seems like the necromancer is so outraged that he doesn't notice you nor the cat.
After the necromancer's outbreak, the mood in the tavern seems to shift...more and more customers begin to watch your conversation carefully.
Esfana gets hold on her holy symbol with her left hand and tries to check her breathing pace.
Her right hand slowly seems to be searching for her sword's hilt.
She tries to stay in control of herself, then keeping her voice down:
"We are simply tasked of checking on the absence of a comrade.No one is charging anything on anyone ,yet"
She is firm in her words, and is looking into worsch's eyes without display of any emotion
Believe it or not, the diplomatic words of the Varisian cleric of Iomedae really sooth the necromancer's anger. He looks directly in Esfana's face, then laughs and makes a swaying gesture with his hand. Even his eye seems to lose some of its unholy fire.
Hmm, ok, maybe my judgement came to fast. I'm just used of being accused by you Iomedites. If you are willing to compensate my time and effort I'll look through my books in my shop, maybe your Timodeus really went through my hands.
"That would depend on what you ask as a payment for your time and efforts...let's hear it"
He rubs his hand in a greedy gesture and you can't help yourself but begin to understand why Iomedae hates his kind...
A lot of heavy and very dusty volumes I store in my shop...lots of work to search through them...very very time consuming...and lots of opportunity costs...let's say ten shiny gold pieces.
Worrying with his ideals Torald hesitates a moment, but in regard that it will be for the salvation of an Iomedite, he decides to respond to the offer. Additionally the merchant-blood of his father seems to come forward.
I think, your precious time should be rewarded, but I think you should approuch your efforts more methodical. Our friend disappeared last week. And a well organized businessman like you, would lightly know in which few tomes his customers of the last week would be found.
I think a well meant compensation of five shiny gold pieces would be deemed to stisfy