Smythe nods and smiles, though he is somewhat confused at what may be passing between Melira and the others. "Of course, of course. I'll have some fine brandy brought up along with a meal and we can have civilized conversation."
The others pass out onto the street where Hannady bids them a respectful farewell.
Smythe reclines in his chair at his desk grinning broadly and begins to ply you with reasonably good food, brandy, and questions about your life, interests, and experiences. He seems to eat up every word you say.
Before he heads out, Hannady grasps Mel's hand firmly and nods wordlessly to her.
On the street, Hannady nods thankfully to the four of you (including Kelian). "I appreciate what you folk have done. Some of you have been through a lot and you've all done what you can to set things right. Now I better get back to Astin before any orcs or elves decide that an undefended border town is a good opportunity."
You stand on the street conversing about where to head next after Hannady leaves with the Astin guards.
You hear a voice speak into your mind. "Well isn't that interesting. A couple of elves taken into Helmian custody. That's never happened before." You glance around uncertainly for a while then notice a smiling female halfling about 100 feet down the road, sitting on a barrel and staring at your group.
You hear a voice speak into your mind. "Well isn't that interesting. A couple of elves taken into Helmian custody. That's never happened before." You glance around uncertainly for a while then notice a smiling female halfling about 100 feet down the road, sitting on a barrel and staring at your group.
You hear a voice speak into your mind. "Well isn't that interesting. A couple of elves taken into Helmian custody. That's never happened before." You glance around uncertainly for a while then notice a smiling female halfling about 100 feet down the road, sitting on a barrel and staring at your group.
Perrin looks around at the others, confused. "Did you guys hear that?" Then he spots the halfling, a fair ways down the road. "Hey, um, did you say something?" he calls out, realizing this will be a bit awkward if she didn't.
”Aye...” Kazador said with some hesitation. ”Certain I heard yon lass talking to us.”
After some superficial conversation in which Mel tells Commander Smythe the barest outlines of her background and answers a few questions about life in the elven lands, she gently steers the discussion back to a topic she is sure must be near and dear to the Commander's heart: himself.
"... but enough about me," she says. "I gather you are the head of the watch -- is that for the city of Helm, or do you coordinate law enforcement throughout the realm? I'm afraid I know little about the upper levels of Bishopric society."
Perhaps I can get some useful information out of him on the players in this game, she thinks, immediately followed by Voi peeveli, I'm thinking just like that syyhyinen koira Elrin. She quickly takes a sip of wine to cover the scowl that evokes. It's rather good -- a light white wine with hints of peach.
At least I'm not going to use this information to cause a bloodbath, she consoles herself, and then shifts her attention outwards to catch whatever Commander Smythe may say.
The Halflings nods and smiles slightly, though it is hard for you to notice from here.
"Aye that I did. I wanted to be sure to get your attention without gettin' the whole city's. So tell the Dwarf to stop trying to catch flies!"
"Aye that I did. I wanted to be sure to get your attention without gettin' the whole city's. So tell the Dwarf to stop trying to catch flies!"
"Aye that I did. I wanted to be sure to get your attention without gettin' the whole city's. So tell the Dwarf to stop trying to catch flies!"
Perrin blinks, shrugs, then starts walking toward the halfling at a casual pace. As he walks, he tries to send a thought back to her: Can you hear me? A pause. Also, you're not by any chance trying to kill us, are you? Just checking.
Smythe greatly enjoys the conversation, despite it's superficial nature. Clearly, he is more interested in the fact that he's having dinner with an elf than what is actually being said. Off-hand, he exposits "I hold the highest position in Helmian law enforcement after the Warden of Helm, who reports directly to the Bishop. I speak only, of course, of the conventional branch of law enforcement." He nibbles delicately on a chicken breast.
You think this is the message spell at work.
You all hear Perrin's words in your head as part of the spell, making you realize it has linked all four of you with each other and the Halflings. She smirks and replies "If I wanted to kill ye, I wouldn't get your attention. Why don't we talk? I can pay for information and give some of my own."
Kazador resisted the urge to put his hammer in his hands. Not sure if I like having a voice in my head. How about ye say who ye are and tell us why we should trust ye. It felt very strange to think a message. He hoped that he got it right.
The halfing smiles very charmingly at Kazador from about twice her initial distance so it's hard to make out but you hear her clearly. "You can call me 'Daisy.' I work for some people who would be VERY interested to know what you know. I'd rather discuss the rest in private."
She doesn't seem to intend you harm. You'rr unsire ofuch else.
He may be a self-absorbed git, but he can certainly hire a cook! Mel thinks.
Perrin smiles too at that, looking still puzzled but a little bit relieved. You know what? I trust you. He continues after her, with just a quick look back at the others to see if they're following suit. I mean, the last person I said that about turned out to be a mass murderer, but still. Better chafed than charry.
Elsewhere, in the midst of a fine meal with a notably poor dinner partner, Mel suddenly thinks I hope Perrin isn't getting into too much trouble. I mean ... no, he'll be fine.
And then she resumes eating and coaxing bits of information out of Colonel Smythe.
Smythe looks somewhat annoyed. "Well... the Master of Information oversees more... discrete matters of 'law enforcement.' To be frank, his role seems only vaguely associated with law and mostly with taking whatever actions he deems most suitable. Of course, the Bishop trusts him quite a bit as they are old friends."
Kazador shrugged and followed his comrade. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do, and he was new enough to this group that he was willing to follow Perrin’s lead without too many questions.
Master of Information, who has the Bishop's ear, is it? she thinks. Perhaps that's who we need to be talking to.
Smythe positively leaps at the chance to complain. "Oh it is positively maddening!! You've no idea how difficult it is to maintain order and decorum when, just as my men are about to apprehend a theif, we are ordered off by the Bishop's seal because he is 'an informant.' As if they were getting any closer to figuring out what the Reaps were up to!!! Overreaching bunglers!"
Smythe nods. "A regional criminal organization. Despite their dramatic title, a small fraction of their crumes are murders. Lately, they've been oddly obsessed with robbing lockboxes from offices. It has been most odd and disconcerting. Far less efficient than they have normally been as the lockboxes often hold only small sums..." He shrugs. "But criminals must be possessed of such inferior natures that even the clever ones often behave erratically."
The Halflings walks into a lively tavern with a roughly-painted barmaif sign out front. "I'll be in the private room. Come join me for a drink and a chat."
As they walk through the streets Perrin thinks to himself, I hope Mel's getting into trouble as interesting as this is!
When they reach the tavern he follows Daisy confidently into the room, starting to talk even as the door swings shut. "Okay, here we are! What sort of information do you have, what sort do you want, and what sort of payment are you offering?" He pulls out a chair and perches on it, leaning forward and looking at her expectantly for a beat. "Or wait, do you need to be mysterious some more first? Sorry, I'm kind of new at this."
The Halfling smiles broadly at Perrin and laughs a high, tinkling laugh. ”Straight to business, is it? You don’t even want a pint first?” She points to some frothy beers sitting in tankards at the center of the table. ”Well that’s fine by me. I have lots of information, some of which I can share and some of which I can’t. I want to know who those arrested elves are, why they were arrested, and what yer part was in all of this. I can pay in coin, information, or some combination.” She pulls out a purse and sprinkles three little piles of coin on the table, looking to contain 20 very bright, silvery colored coins in each pile. ”Twenny plat for each o’ ya if ya answer my questions. Extra if the information is good. Less if you want some secrets in return.” She leans back in a relaxed fashion. "So how's that sound?"
Another thought occurs to her. "Colonel, who does Coroner Fuller report to? I gather she's not part of the Watch."
Kazador stared at the pints. He had promised the captain that he wouldn’t drink...but his job was done, wasn’t it? And besides, what would one sip hurt? He started reaching out a hand for the mug when he heard “twenty platinum.” A fortune! He looked over at Per to see how he would react. The last thing he wanted was to cross the captain and the trust placed in him. Even if the mugs looked so tempting...
Smythe twirls his fork lazily in the air. "Perhaps... Who knows?" He straightens up somewhat unhappily at the mention of that meddlesome Coroner who forced him to stick to the law. "Oh... well she has a somewhat odd position as both a coroner and a tax collector... I believe she must report to the Chief Coroner and the Minister of Taxation, both of whom are supervised by the Warden of Helm." He waves his hand as if to brush off matters of state. "But tell me more about growing up as an Elven child. How does one handle the pressures of knowing you will likely live for many centuries in the foremost nation of the world?"
"What stories did you grow up on?" she asks.
Smythe's lips curls somewhat as the topic shifts to children's fairy tales. He's clearly having trouble believing someone as sophisticated as an elf would want to talk of such nonsense. He peers carefully at Mel's face and ears as if to check to see if she really is an elf. Finding nothing to confirm his suspicions, he takes a large, buttered, bite of the freshly-baked bread and chews it. Then he shrugs resignedly and replies "Tales of Jack the Giant Killer, the Well of the World's End, and others like them. But early in my adolescence I became enamored of the great histories written by the historians of your people. The works of Silvas, in particular, drew my attention."
Mel fails to notice Smythe's scorn, but fortunately she has a somewhat broader definition of "story" than he does. "Interesting. You seem to have latched onto the classics of my culture, while I latched onto the classics of yours. Of course I've read Silvas, as well -- I thought his account of the Second Blackthorn War was particularly compelling. But it's a story that I find interesting from an intellectual standpoint, rather than one that moves me on a personal level. Which of the figures Silvas discusses do you find most interesting?"
Perrins eyes widen a bit at the sight of the coins. When Kazador turns to him he gives a half shrug and a look that says 'you do you.' Perrin himself reaches for an empty tankard, and as he brings it to his lips it fills with clear, fresh water.
Then he turns his attention back to Daisy. "How about we take turns? You asked who the elves are. The fancy one calls himself Elrin, he's a spellcaster who claims to work for the council. No clue about the other." He takes another sip of water. "Okay, our turn. What makes your boss people so keen to hear about elves?"
”A good game. But we still get paid.” Kazador quickly added.
Smythe warms up to a topic near r his interests "Why yes indeed! The countless accounts of brilliant visionaries shaping the future of the entire world, not just Elven lands. Visionaries such as Elras, Findal, and Mallin. How their deeds changed the world."
Mel notes these as three statesmen who sought the unification of Elven lands, including the assimilation of the Avinoax.
Daisy giggles. "A game it is then. My bosses are worried about that Elves may be up to. They know there's somethin' goin' on but they don't know what." Then Daisy draws a pair of scrolls from her satchel. "If you don't mind, I'd like to start playin' in earnest. This first one will make sure nobody interrupts us in hear while the second will make it harder for us to lie to each other." She shows you the scrolls.
They are zone of silence and zone of truth.
Arla fidgets nervously but doesn't object to the proposal. Daisy begins reading from the scrolls. When she reads the second one, you feel a compulsion to honesty come upon your mind.
Daisy looks up at you with a smile. "My turn again. Why were those Elves arrested."
Perrin looks over the scrolls for a moment, then watches curiously as Daisy activates them. He feels like he really ought to tell the truth, but isn't sure whether that's actually the magic or just a placebo effect. Either way, he decides to roll with it. "Elrin was connected to an attack on the town of Brookside. The other was part of a group that attacked Elrin's guards on the road from Astin."
He turns to Arla and Kazador . "Care to play? I'll foot the bill."
"They certainly made their mark," Mel agrees.
She chats idly with Colonel Smythe for the remainder of the notably delicious meal, ranging over a variety of topics and generally willing to humor his interest in elven culture. A few weeks ago I might have been truly flattered by this man's appreciation for my people, she thinks sadly. But now ... we are not nearly so accomplished or wise as he sees us. As I saw us.
With that reflection, she gently brings the conversation to a stopping point and says "Well, I think you most kindly for the excellent meal -- your chef is superb. But it has been a very trying day. I think I would like to rest a bit. Is there someplace quiet I could sit for a while? Naturally you should feel free to post a guard if you think it necessary."
Smythe nods. "Of course, of course." He rings a small bell on his desk which is answered by a guard. Smythe places you in a guest room with a guard outside the door. There are windows but they don't appear to open.
Daisy nods. "Yes that's very interesting indeed." She adds five bright shiny coins to each pile. "Keep it coming. This kind of information is worth rewarding. So what's your next question?" She looks at the silent Dwarf with a half-smile.
”Is ye’re information for Lustia?” the dwarf asked. He couldn’t think of anyone else who was rich enough to pay, who could afford these scrolls, or who’d need this level of secrecy.
Kazador failed his save while Perrin and the Halflings made theirs.
Daisy moves 15 coins off each pile and holds them up. "That's gonna cost ya. Ya sure that's yer question?"
”For fifteen plat? Nay, it isn’t.”
Kazador held out his hand. As far as she was concerned she had already answered it.
Daisy winks at Kazador. "All rightey then. Pose yer real query. But it'll take all day if we go changin' things. Next time, I name my price for a question, take it, then answer. Sound good, sweetie?"
"Seems fair." If Kazador doesn't ask another question, Perrin chimes in with one of his own. "What can you tell us about the possibility of war breaking out in the near future?"
Daisy smiles cheerfully at Perrin. "Well that be a delightfully broad and vague question. I'd haf to say the odds of some notable armed conflict between two or more significant powers in this land some time in the next decade are considerable." She winks cheekily at Perrin. "I won't charge ya none for that. My turn. What's yer part in all o' this." She looks at all of you questioningly.
”First all...nay more questions from me. I just want to get paid. Which is the answer to ye question as well. I’m in need of coin, and...well. I respect the captain here. He’s an honorable man, who pays for honorable work. I’m more than happy to bloody me hammer for that, ye understand?”
Perrin meets Daisy's eyes with a look of open sincerity. "I'm a doctor. I was there when Brookside was attacked and when Elrin was arrested. And now I'm here - to stop people from getting hurt."
He waits for Arla to say her piece, then continues. "Okay, here's a more specific one for you. To the best of your knowledge, who in the Bishopric has a substantial interest in making a war happen?"