Attalas looks at the two pitchers, clearly wondering with some consternation what the rest of the party is planning on drinking...
Seeing Attalas' sad look, Jez flags down the serving girl and asks for two more pitchers.
The time has come;
To start a scrum;
Mousey Jeminda is her name;
Now what is her game;
The tax man's gone missing;
Perhaps he's just pissing;
No news we'll find in Magnimar;
So our travels will take us far;
Lets get this meeting done;
So that we can start the fun;
Into the wild the six shall go;
Beware enemies our powers grow.
One by one large pitchers of ale, mead and wine are brought while Jeminda nibbles at a rice-cracker. As soon as everyone has something to drink in front of him the mousey woman says
The whole thing must be treated with absolute discreetness! I smuggled my brother in law - Arnolf - into the tax collector business...before that he worked as a bandit and pirate, but he swore me he is now on the side of the law...ahem...yeah well, his first mission was to travel to Ravenmoor, a small village in the Varisian Hinterlands...I sent him there because I had found out that someone had forgotten to collect the taxes there for several years and now the tax debt had accumulated to 500gp...I guess you know it already? I fear Arnolf has run away with the money...I mean, hopefully not and he was just killed by a bear-dragon-ogre or something...in any case, my wild band of mercenaries should travel to Ravenmoor and find out what happened to Arnolf - the Magnimarian officials must not hear about that, otherwise I will lose my job...
she sighs and nibbles again...
Jez takes several large bites of whatever formerly living meat is before her.
Hmmm, discretion. I realize that the fair elf and grumpy dwarf are likely quite common to you. However, you are also talking to an ogre, a goblin, an Ulfen and me. We can be as discrete as possible, but our group is about a stealthy as a Minotaur in a flask shop.
So, what can you tell us about this hinterland village? Is it full of miscreants and lawbreakers. Jez gives Ragnvald a mischief grin at this comment. Or good law abiding folk, farmers and woodsmen?
"More than likely he was murdered and his entrails strewn across the village. People can have a very poignant view on the collection of taxes. Myself included." Ragnvald smiles to himself lost in some pleasant past memory.
Looking at Ragnvald and shaking my head. You should come visit my homeland sometime. Continuous battles and bloodshed. And no government except the one with the biggest sword or most powerful spells.
You see Jez shudder as she recalls some horrific scene from her youth.
"Well, not too many people stop to make small talk with Ogres, so at least they wont ask us too many questions"
"No, in small villages they tend to flee for the hills instead." Ragnvald says bluntly.
Well, if they all run away, it will keep innocent people from getting hurt by mistake.
"Yah, only the bad men hang around. Makes the job easier when you are a Guardsman"
"But harder when your job is to find a specific person."
"I usually have to work with crowds."
Jeminda raises her index finger and waits until everyone has stopped talking...
Discreeteness is so important because my superiors must not know that I gave the job to a relative...So, when can you begin your travel to Ravenmoor? Do you need a map? What else do you need? Does a wild band of mercenaries need anything at all?
lost in thought she nibbles at her cracker again...
The more information the better. A map and a description of your man would be preferable. Or we can just randomly wander Varisland, but this might take a while, even for a wild band of mercenaries.
Looking up from her cracker Jeminda nods eagerly and squeaks
Don't worry about the time, my superiors have pretty much forgotten about Ravenmoor anyway heh. Tomorrow you will venture forth then?
Well, it is either venture forth or spend all my time trying to keep the elf from stepping in front of the ogre and goblin while xenophobic locals chase after them with pitchforks. Yup, tomorrow should be good. Do you have a recommended place where we could spend the night? Most inns lack beds for little guys like Attalas.
Also, do you have a map of the area and any notes on what we might encounter between Magnimar and Ravenmoor?
Jeminda nods
Oh, you should best stay at my sister's house...I mean, after all I pay the wild band of mercenaries who will find her husband!
The small woman seems to become more and more confident in your presence and as someone at another table points at her, she pokes out her tongue and points at Attalas...soon the other table is empty...
Once we all finish eating. We head back to her sister's home. We also try to get her to consume at least a few ales or glasses of wine. She really needs to loosen up.
Diplomacy(convince to get drunk):
Nymeria works against Jez if she sees things getting out of hand.
Diplomacy:
Ragnvald needs no convincing to imbibe ruinous amounts of alcohol.
Altogether you walk through the marble streets of the City of Monuments and rarely have the cosmopolitan people of Magnimar gave such a wide berth to a group of strangers.
Jeminda however likes her new companions and after some good words from Jez, she has just kept the pincher of ale and tries to hold it with both hands - taking a sip from it now and then.
Her sister's house is in a middle-class district, a small framework house next to an Abadar temple. The neighbours on the street look a bit worried, but Jeminda greets everyone squeaking loudly. By the time you reach the door she is nearly drunk - maybe someone else should knock on the door?
I knock on the door and make sure that the mouse is still upright.
Also, I will question her on any other useful information about Ravenmoor.
Diplomacy(gather info):
You are a bit surprised to se that Jeminda's sister rather looks like Attalas' sister. A big and burly woman with hands like pans opens the door. Her hair is greasy and there's a lot of dirt under her fingernails.
Jeminda?
The big woman beams at the her much smaller sister and hugs she until Jeminda gasps for air, then she turns to the rest of you
Thanks for bringing my drunken sis home, who are ye?
Your sister asked us to find you missing husband. Unfortunately, despite the good hearts of the members of our group, most inns are not set up, or willing, to accommodate us. So, she said that you would have space that we could use for the night.
And also, I did not think that it would be good to leave her with the scalawags of Magnimar considering her current condition.
Diplomacy:
The massive woman gives you a slap on a shoulder and grunts
Nice friends my sister has, come in!
The house is a bit untidy, but mostly clean and Jeminda's sister seems to be the only person living here. Nevertheless, you notice a large oil painting of a bearded man holding three goblin heads in one hand and a large axe in the other.
A now tarnished, once gilded plate underneath the painting reads
Arnolf, slayer of the Frogtorturer-tribe and beloved husband
|
Mobo stares for some time at the painting, looking closely at the goblin heads to see if perhaps the Frogtorturer tribe may have been the estranged kin he hails from. He keeps himself scrunched up in his hat and poncho, hoping not much green skin has been noticed yet.
Transfixed by the painting and the less-shiny quality of the plate, Mobo forgets to be angry by the written words and wonders how long Arnolf has been absent.
Perception:
Looking at the photo and noticing that Mobo is both transfixed, and rather uncomfortable:
Thank you. Is Arnolf your husband? A fine looking man if I may say so. He looks as though he should be able to take care of himself. Perhaps he has some of my companion Attalas' blood in him.
So, please if we are to find him and bring him back safely, we need all the information you can give us about his disappearance. Did he know anyone in Ravenmoor? Had he been there before for any reason? Did he have any plans other than just receiving the unpaid taxes?
Rgnvald is murmuring softly in his unconscious state as being dragged about by the ogre. His body bruised and battered.
The burly woman, who had just begun to get some chairs and empty the large kitchen table, pauses and looks at the painting
My beloved Arnolf...I always told him that normal and righteous work was nothing for him, but he didn't want to listen...no, he knew no one in Ravenmoor and I promise you that he would not have wasted a day on the road, he loved to lie in my arms and...
Interrupting the private confessions, Jeminda falls with her head on the table and snorts audibly.
I shake my head. Try as she might, she just could not keep up drink for drink with the ogre. Lets get her to bed, then we can discuss your beloved.
I pick up the mousy woman and carry her to the ogresses spare bed.
Now that jeminda is brought to bed, her sister, which has introduced herself as Delilah - a not quite fitting name - sems to relax a bit.
She fills some tankards with fresh ale and puts a plate with cold roasts on the table.
So, how come you know Jeminda? And how come that she was able to persuade you to search me Arnolf?
She was looking for, how did she call it, a "Wild Bunch" to search for your brother. As I am sure you know, nepotism is generally frowned upon by the local authorities, so she contacted us and we decided to take the challenge.
Now then, is there anything that you can tell us about your husband that might help us on our search? His likes? His dislikes? The type of people he might talk with? The type of tavern he might frequent?
As she thinks about her husband's habit, she begins to smile and says
He likes every kind of tavern, brawl, contest, fight...he's a real man my Arnolf. He dislikes fragile southernly women, warm beer, cheese, the colour green, harp music...
suddenly she notices that this kind of information might not be the most helpful and concentrates again
So mhhm...I guess if these villagers didn't want to pay he would have tried to conquer the village...he's a bit of a hotspur, you know.
So, he is the type to feel he should personally represent the power of the state. Well that gives us something. My understanding is that he would be unlikely to use stealth and deceit to accomplish his job.
Does anyone else have any questions for our good hostess?
Now that Mobo speaks up, Delilah eyes him a bit more closely
Uh...there is no Frogtorturer left to be his enemy, he always claimed to have annihilated the whole - and here I quote - "stinkin' tribe of thrice damned little buggers"...ummm...
there is a moment of awkward silence now before she adds
he always used to kill all his enemies...ahem...
Attempting to mitigate any misunderstandings, I step forward and pat Mobo and Attalas on the back:
Mobo is one of us. Just as there are evil humans, and many of them, there are also good members of races we would otherwise not generally associate with. Mobo and Attalas are two such good souls.
Grumbling Ragnvald rolls over on his side and drools/bleeds on the carpet.
Your talk with Delilah goes on for some more minutes and the burly woman quickly understands that Mobo and Attalas are guys just like you and me...
The next morning a weak drizzle and a cloudy sky await you. Jeminda has a teriible headache and sits at the kitchen table massaging her temples while her sister makes some omelettes from a basket full of eggs.
After saying good morning to Mobo and warning him to not try any of the fingers still attached to the mousy woman.
Morning Jeminda. Sorry about last night, but I must say, you really did have a good time. Hmmm, you look like you have a headache. Let me try to help you with that.
Cast CLW on Jeminda - no clue whether it will help, but why not.
Ragnvald looks refreshed and renewed. He's practically beaming to the point where you fear at any moment he'll go out and slaughter game for the fun of it.
Jeminda nods thankfully and really feels a bit better after you have cast your spell. Yawning and stretching she knocks her mug over, but her sister seems to be used to that and quickly catches it before it reaches the ground.
Will you travel today?
Delilah asks only to ask another question before you have time to answer
And why do you call yourself a "Wild band of Mercenaries"?
Yes, we should set forth soon. In a city such as this prejudice tends to win out and I would prefer that Attalas and Mobo did not have to knock any heads to correct people's misconceptions.
We don't actually call ourselves the "Wild Band of Mercenaries", Jeminda seems to have come up with that herself. I do not know believe that we have formerly adopted a name for ourselves, but I am sure that we will soon.