"I am interested in all information that could imply upcoming government decisions, troop deployments, large business transactions...as for individuals, those I need to impress, and thus have most interest in, are as follows: Count Brendan Harcourt, Viscount Alain Turick, Baron Jonathan Cust, and last - but certainly not least - Duke Roger Beaumont. If you do have a pre-existing arrangement with one of those parties, I would very much appreciate if you'd inform me about that know. I want to get on their good side, understand the inner workings to make myself useful and gain their notice. But I'd rather not be hanged for treason because I was spying on important nobles. As for how you may serve me now - several people have seen me enter, and several people will see me leave. Aside from any updates you can give me, I believe I should spend some time here so my visits don't seem suspicious. That slim red-head working as waitress in the entrance room - she barely seemed old enough to work here - a daughter of one of your employees, maybe? I'd like her to read to me. Nothing else.", he withdraws an richly illustrated copy of "Legends behind the Heraldry of the Lords of Iustia" from his backpack, adding, as afterthought: "I trust she can read?"
It was tempting, of course - it had been a long time since he had last felt a female touch of the sort offered here...but it simply did not seem a good idea to mix business and pleasure in a situation such as his.
The matron listens thoughtfully, clearly keeping a careful list in her head. She nods understanding and confirms "Very well, my young lord. We can arrange that. Unfortunately, Isabella cannot read. Perhaps another arrangement can be made. Someone else who can?"
Meli attempts to listen for information on Isabella, but it seems that it is kept close to the vest! All she hears is that Isabella found a group of gnomes coming off a ship at the docks and helped them.
The man rubs the back of his head and extends his hand to Khaz. "The name's Samuel. I'd be happy to. I suppose you could give me a lesson on taking a beating without flinching." He grins wryly.
The viscount nods and laughs at Garick's suggestion. "Alright then, my new friends. Come, let us retire to drink and talk. I expect Samuel will welcome the rest." He leads you up out of the sewer and through the streets toward the Hill. The gate at the rear of one of the fine houses is opened by a gray-haired man in a brown and silver uniform without a word as the viscount approaches. He nods to the man and enters with you all following. He leads you to a fine but small guest house made of stone attached to the rear of the larger stone house. Entering through a fine wooden door with a single lock, you take seats in a small room around a wooden table. Several bottles of wine sit in a rack, a fire in the nearby fireplace by a servant who enters shortly after you, and the seats are well padded and comfortable. The viscount pours wine for all of you, including Samuel. The guardsman tries to decline but the viscount waves him off. "You're off duty now that I'm home, Samuel. Come, come." Then he turns to Khaz with interest. "So, do other dwarves fight like you? And how many would join the Iustian army?"
Kazador thought carefully about his reply. He was no smooth tongued liar. And he knew that too many lies would pile up like stones, and would eventually crush him. So he decided to tell the truth. Or at least, part of it.
”Aye. Many fight like me. I’m nay special. As I said earlier, yer man is the more skilled warrior. I’m just too stubborn to know when to stop. It’s whats kept me alive all these years.” He offered as small smile at this.
”As for yer other question. I don’t know.” He said, simply. ”I’m not from here. Don’t have any family or clan left. They’re all dead. It’s why I wander.” It was surprising how much saying it hurt. The grief was like the waves of an ocean. It was always there, and even when it receded, it would come back. Composing himself, he continued. ”It’s not something I like talking about. But from me travels, I’ve learned to respect mankind. I’ve come to the conclusion that both man and dwarf would prosper by being less divided. Me people. We’re hard workers. Serious about our craft. But also proud. Might be slow going at first to get the earthborn to join up. But once we’ve set out minds to something, we don’t stop. Even when we should. Think ye saw that, aye?”
Fyrman sips his wine slowly while the Viscount questions Khaz and takes the opportunity to look around the room and observe Alain. Who is this man who on one hand openly hates elves, yet now sues for an alliance with them?
Mel shakes the sleep from her eyes, half-unsure whether that last part really happened. "The docks ..." she murmurs.
Then she makes a face. "But first, practicality."
Getting up, she takes her time in carefully building a disguise of herself as human.
There, she thinks. If someone sees through the magic, they won't automatically see me as an elf.
With these preparations done, she checks on Kazador, and finds him still deeply asleep. Shrugging, she dons her hat and once again assumes the form (and personality) of the irrepressible Melia Elman.
And with that, a beaming Melia emerges from the front door and dives into the market, trade book in hand, intent on outfitting the house where they will be staying for the foreseeable future.
Bedding:
8 gp single bed frame (inc headboard)
8 gp single mattress (straw)
1 gp single sheets (2 sets)
4 gp feather pillow
Subtotal: 21 gp each, x2 = 42 gp
Kitchen:
1.2 gp baking pans, iron (2)
1.6 gp pots, iron (2)
1.6 gp porcelain serving platters (2, plain)
1 gp cutting board
1 gp large kitchen knife
9 sp wood mixing bowls (3)
3 sp corkscrew
3 sp paring knife
2 sp peeling knife
4 sp serving forks (2)
4 sp serving spoons (2)
5 sp ladle
2 sp whetstone
3 sp teapot
6 sp porcelain pitcher (plain)
1 gp mortar and pestle (stoneware, small)
4 gp mortar and pestle (stoneware, large)
5 gp large cast-iron skillet
Subtotal: 20.5 gp
Cutlery and Plates:
5 sp porcelain plate (plain)
2 sp porcelain soup bowl (plain)
4 cp brass spoon
4 cp brass dinner knife
4 cp brass fork
8 cp brass mug
Subtotal: 0.9 gp per set, 6 sets = 5.4 gp
Cleaning:
5 sp wood bucket (5 gallons)
1 sp broom
5 sp assorted cloths
8 cp mop
5 cp soap (5 bars)
2 cp 1 gallon vinegar
Subtotal: 1.25 gp
Lighting:
3 gp hurricane lamps (3)
1 gp 10 pints lamp oil
2 sp 1 dozen beeswax candles
1.2 gp glazed pottery candle holder (3; the kind with a little loop for your finger)
Subtotal: 5.4 gp
Furniture:
15 gp dining table
30 gp chairs (6)
4 gp washbasins (2)
20 gp chest of drawers (2)
5 sp welcome mat
Subtotal: 69.5 gp
Food:
1 sp Basil (dried, 1 oz)
2 cp Garlic (two cloves)
5 cp Marjoram (dried, 1 oz)
2 sp Parsley (dried, 1 oz)
1 sp Sage (dried, 1 oz)
6 cp Salt (6 ozs)
1 sp Thyme (1 oz, dried)
2 gp Lentils (1 lb)
3 gp wheat flour (1 lb)
1 gp penne pasta, dry (1 lb)
2 sp Safflower oil (1 gallon)
2 gp Olive oil (1 qt)
5 sp wine vinegar (1 qt)
1 gp brown sugar (1 lb)
4 gp pork sausages (4 lbs)
5 cp onions (1 string of 6)
3 cp bell peppers (6, assorted colors)
2 gp jars of pre-made marinara sauce (2)
Subtotal: 16.41
Grand Total: 160.46 gp
Note: the bedframes support the mattress with a mesh of sisal rope wound back and forth through the bedframe, which slowly loses tension over time and needs to be tightened. Hence the phrase "sleep tight," meaning "sleep well because we just tightened the ropes holding up your mattress."
While she's at it, Melia makes small talk to find out about local goings-on, and keeps an ear open for interesting bits of overheard conversation.
"Hm. A Pity. I had intended to let my mind wander and let the information you can provide me with fall into place, connect the dots, so to say, with some pleasurable background noise. I believe the others you could offer would serve to distract me. I am but a man, and you have good taste in your employs. Alas, then, I did reconsider. I will tutor Isabella and teach her to read and write. It will let my mind wander all the same, and certainly be more useful overall. Consider it an additional boon as part of our contract. I shall bring what we need next time, for now, we may simply get acquainted while drinking a cup of tea. I trust that can be arranged? And I think the teacher/pupil phantasy is not entirely uncommon so this will still fulfill the purpose of a cover for my visits."
The viscount sips and nods thoughtfully at Khaz's words. "Interesting. You did put that on display, without a doubt. What of the Dwarves of Revan? Would they fight to defend our mutual land?"
Garick notes the guest house contains several pieces of fine art depicting humans in a variety of heroic poses and an Iustian flag. The viscount seems a nationalist patriot, through and through, most interested in what he can do to advance his country's interests.
Melia is reasonably successful haggling and shopping. Along the way, she picks up a couple more pieces of gossip. The one that seems most possibly relevant is that a merchant mentions he has a few new gnome neighbors who moved in on a timeline that matches up with what Melia heard about Isabella.
The matron tries to suppress raising an eyebrow but seems mildly confused by Janus' tastes. She shrugs and nods. "I will bring her immediately." She bustles out and two minutes later a slim, red-headed girl of about thirteen enters, keeping her eyes low. "How may I serve you, my lord?" she asks in a small voice.
At the beginning of her long, busy day of shopping, Melia finds a moment to slide a note under the door of the apartment Fyrman rented:
Fyrman, Janus,
You were such pleasant traveling companions, I thought it would be lovely to stay in touch now that we're all here in Bannerhold. Why don't you both come over to the town home I rented for dinner this evening? I'm cooking sausage marinara with bell peppers, onion, and pasta.
Khaz and I are staying at 6 Rider Road, which you can get to by ...
Here she goes into a rather meandering description of the route from the Homely Hearth to the town home, interspersed with commentary on the local birds, the roughness of the pavement, and how exciting it is to be living in such a thriving metropolis.
... and then you'll be there, as long as you didn't get confused about going south on North Street, like I did for a while. I mean, who names a road "North Street" when it runs north and south? Honestly! It just seems malicious. Think of all the poor souls who've wound up at the wrong end of town!
Anyway, bring wine! Something red, maybe, that can stand up to the acidity of the tomatoes, because of course they're quite citric, being fruit, you know. See you around 6 bells!
-- Melia Elman
The lower case "I" in her name has a heart instead of a dot.
"Isabella, right? Stand straight, lift your chin - look at me, speak in a firm voice. You will serve me best by respecting my efforts. From the short time, I surmise the Matron had little chance to brief you. For reasons that are my own, I will be tutoring you. You will learn to read, write, and do proper math. You will learn, and depending on how good a learner you are, you will be rewarded or punished. For now, we have some time to get to know each other. That, of course, means a chance for me to get to know you - there is little you need to know about me. For starters, introduce yourself properly. Name, Age, your parents and relation to this etablissement, hobbies. Tell me your favorite animal, and why it is so - tell me the best and worst thing that happened in your last year. Your earliest memory and your favorite flower, what color you like and what song you like to sing. Just keep telling me about yourself, while maintaining eye contact, and I'll let you know when I heared enough."
Túrion leaned back into his seat, locking eyes with the Girl. It was remarkable. Humans were such short-lived things, but on the other hand, the one in front of him was - what...10? 15? Something between, probably - and almost a woman grown. Nothing like his own race. He very much intended to make the girl a subject of study, in a way. Of course, he also had to keep up his appearance and role, but in the end, he was convinced she would stand to gain from it all. For now, it was time to listen.
”I reckon they would. The best way to get a dwarf to fight is for him to know that he’s fighting for home and clan. Playing up that the force is in their interests and protects their families? That is a motivation right there. Well, that and mercantile benefits. Best to work with clan leaders on that. It’s like human guilds, I think. It’s where the power usually lies. Get them on yer side and yer gold.”
"What threats do you expect we'll face Alain? I suppose it's none of my business, but I mean it's not like we are at war. Not that having good relations with our south neighbors would hurt either way." Fyrman tries to draw out the Viscount without appearing too insightful.
Isabella nods nervously in understanding then begins trying to answer the questiosn. "My name is Isabella Stone. I am thirteen years old. My mother is Janice Smith. I do not know my father. My mother was a friend of madame's..." She stammers, losing track of what the questions were, then continues "My favorite animal is the horse. So strong and powerful. Fast and beautiful." She rambles on a little longer then stammers off. Then when prompted by Turion to keep telling facts about herself, she continues uncomfortably. After about ten minutes of the strange interview, confused tears begin appearing in her eyes.
Turick listens to Khaz and nods, seemingly convinced. "A good plan. I will think more on this and may have more questions." To Garick's question, he chuckles slightly. "Well our neighbors to the south in the Concordat are just the trouble, aren't they? Those elves have looked down at us for centuries and will seize any weakness they see." He grimaces and adds "Best we not let them get the upper hand."
"I suppose that's true, but I heard somewhere that you were advocating alliance with the Concordat. Is that just a ruse then? Or maybe what I heard was wrong, you can never be too sure with rumors afterall."
Kazador remained quiet as the topic turned to international diplomacy and elves. In part because of his own internal inconsistencies on the subject, but mostly to avoid putting his foot in his mouth.
"Now, shhh...come here, sit down. There's no reason to cry. All I do is make you talk. I assure you that among the man you met in this house today, what I ask is the most harmless thing, even if it is harder to do, because it requires an effort on your part. But so will learning. I will question you, and you will get things wrong. That is the way of life, and the way you learn - so best get used to that. But relax now."
He gestures at the other seat, the one the Matron had sat in earlier, and fills her cup with some tea as well. He waits a bit for the girl to settle down, then continues in a softer voice: "You said your mother was a friend of Madames. Something happen to her, then? When you were still little?"
The room goes quiet when Garick makes his statement and the Viscount raises his eyebrow, his mouth set in a firm line. "Point me to the man who made the statement and I will correct him personally. The Concordat is the greatest threat to Iustia. An alliance with them would be a fool's errand."
Isabella sniffs and nods then shakes her head. "No she is still alive. It's just... *sniff* that's how I got the position here."
"Sorry I didn't mean to insult you. Can't say that I could point to the man, just a face in a bar." Fyrtor says in an attempt to downplay his misstep.
"Like I told ya I've been looking into joining the army, and we'll, I'm braver than most, but I've heard thing about the elves. I've heard they can do all sorts of crazy magic, shoot lighting from their eyes, make the ground disappear, summon demons that eat your soul.That kind of stuff. No normally I wouldn't put much stock into such nonsense, but I've heard it from too many people for it to all be trash.
Now I'm braver than most and I want to do right by Iustia as much as anyone. But a man can't fight something like that. That's why I was looking to do something other than hold a spear and get out through the grinder if you know what I mean. I don't know how an army can can fight magic like that. And before you go judging me, it ain't cowardice to say as much."
”Yer scaring the lad.” Kazador interjected. ”’sides, all elves look alike. Can’t blame tavern folk for blathering when an army is being raised. Many a wild rumor gets thrown around. It’s why I tend to ignore anyone who says they know what’s up if they don’t look rich enough to have access to what they’re saying. Aye?”
Fyrman shifts from foot to foot nervously as he waits for the Viscount's reply. This isn't going well. I shouldn't have moved so quickly. Khaz was doing fine until I started in...
The viscount relaxes somewhat and nods slowly. "Yes it is somewhat confusing. Most elves are of the Concordat. But have you heard of Avinoax? They are a small enclave of elves that have resisted assimilation into the Concordat for generations. An incredible feat. And they have no desire to dominate over Iustia. if we could turn them against their cousins..." He stares off for a moment then sips again. "Anyhow, the rumors about elven powers are greatly exaggerated. Yes many of them are particularly skilled with magic. But they all fall when cold honest steel is put through them... That I've seen for myself..."
"Now, now. I told you to calm down. I think it is a sign of love and strenght that your mother cared for you - albeit I think many would have tried to get you in a different line of work. You are only serving up drinks now, but surely you are aware that sooner or later you will be expected to perform the same dutys as the others under Madame's wing?" Janus pauses a moment to give Isabella a chance to consider that thought, then continues:"Are you afraid of that day? Look forward to it? Try not to think of it? Did you mean to follow in your mothers footsteps? Or simply accept the hand fate dealt to you?"
"Well that's comforting. Still if it's all the same I'll keep my distance and let my arrows do the talking. So you want to turn these Avin Oaks elves against the others then? Them's fighting each other sounds plenty good to me.
"Anyways, you mentioned you might have a job for me?"
Isabella coughs somewhat and calms down, trying to slow her breathing. "If I don't find a better way to make money or get married, this will be my job. I don't want to. It's hard for these women to make a life for themselves when they get too old."
The viscount nods when Garick mentions elves fighting elves sounds good. His guardsman nods too and knocks back a drink, wincing and holding a sore rib where Khaz struck him a solid blow. When Garick asks about the job, the viscount looks politely to Khaz "Perhaps we should discuss this privately? Unwise to spread sensitive information further than necessary."
Kazador nodded. ”Aye, more n’ fair.” With some discomfort he rose to his feet and gave the others their privacy.
"I'm sorry m'Lord, you are right of course."
"Well, you can always try and get married, but that's a gamble by itself. As for other options, learning some of what I can teach you could give you additional options for making money. What do you have to lose? At worst, nothing will change, and you will grow up as you fear."
Túrion calmly responds to the girl. "So work hard, look forward to our sessions, and make certain to repeat the lessons in what little spare time you have. You are given a chance...but only if you show enthusiasm and dedication. Understood? Now, then, I will need to acquire materials we can use, which I will attempt to do until I return here. For the remainder of today, tell me a story. Your favorite Fairy Tale, as you would tell it your own child, one day. Choose well, I will acquire a written copy of it and we will work on learning to read with it.", he leans back in the seat and closes his eyes, listening to Isabella.
The guardsman steps out with Khaz and chats with him politely. "So Master Dwarf, have you enjoyed your time in Bannerhold so far?"
You sit alone, as far as you can tell, with the viscount drinking in his guest house. He leans forward and explains in a low tone "Some of the king's funds have gone missing of late. I have found an official who has been stealing from the royal coffers but I do not believe he has been working alone. I wish you to find out who he is working for, either by gaining his confidence, following him, or whatever means short of severe lawlessness you deem necessary."
Isabella nods nervously and listens carefully. "Yes sir. I would like to learn a skill." When he asks for a fairy tale, she looks shy for a moment then begins telling the story of Jack and His Golden Snuff-Box. Eventually, she wraps up and falls silent.
Isabella seems excited about the prospect of learning to read and write but its masked by her nerves.
"I can probably do that, but there are some details we should work out first. Can you give me a writ of authority or something like that? I understand this isn't something that should be bandied about, but if I were to be questioned by authorities I'd like to have something to prove I'm not just a thief scouting his next mark.
Next, who is the mark? What can you tell me of him? Where can I find him, and what things are notable about him, likes interests fears, stuff like that. One has to know your quarry if you want to have a successful hunt.
Lastly, what sort of payment were you thinking? This sounds semi risky..."
"Well done. I believe that concludes our session today. I will return within a few days, once I acquired what we'll need. There is little I can task you with until I return, at this time - but I am a customer here, and like to be entertained all the same. As such, learn a song. I will have you sing to me and simultaneously dance for me next time we meet, before we start the lesson. That seems easy enough, but will still test your resolve."
Kazador shrugged. ”It’s different. Far from home. But...aye. I’d say so. The viscount seems like a right good sort. The kind of man worth following. How ‘bout ya? Ye from around here? I’m afraid that I can’t tell accents apart yet. What made ya sign up to fight?”
The viscount nods. "Wise, wise. Yes I had something just like that in mind." He hands you a sealed envelope and points "Do not break that seal until you need the envelope. It will only impress the authorities if they see the seal broken. As for the target, his name is Jonathan Davis. He is a clerk in the treasury who, as far as I know, has had no prior criminal activity or contacts. This is part of why I suspect he has help. He lives in the merchant district at 32 Blakely Way. He is about fifty, balding, and has a prominent mole under his left eye. He has generally been quiet and kept to himself but my man Magnus observed him buying a few luxury goods recently, which is odd for a clerk's pay. Speaking of pay." He places a purse on the table. "That will get you and I started."
Isabella nods and Janus exits the room to find the madame waiting. "Can I help you with anything else, my lord?"
The guardsman nods. "Yes he is. Takes care of his own. I grew up here. Got into bad trouble before the viscount saw my talents and took me on." He stays silent and works his jaw silently as if deciding whether to divulge something then seems to decide it won't hurt. "Started working with the Hand of the Reaper. Local version. Don't know if you've heard of them but they're a bad bunch. Viscount saw my talent and saved me from the gallows if I swore to turn things around. So when he said fight a dwarf, I fought. Only time I've stepped in that grimy little ring down there. Too close to my old life." He holds out an average-sized but wiry and tough hand. "Name's Magnus."
Kazador nodded. ”Everyone has a past, Magnus. And nobody who knows how to use his fists has a past they’re entirely proud of.” He thought back to his own time in the Bishorip. Of how he had lost everything drowning himself in alcohol, and how he had learned how to use his fists out of necessity. ”You’ll notice that I didn’t drink anything back there. Swore it off. I learned to use my fists earning what drink I could. But that’s a former life, aye?”
"Not at this time, milady!" Taking note that he was back in the common room, he added: "My stay was very...satisfying. I'll be sure to come back soon."
Fyrman hefts the purse, "You are quite generous m'Lord. I'll start in the morning. How should I contact you with my findings? Also, can bring on other to help me as needed? This kind of work often goes best with a team."
Magnus looks at the dwarf and raises an eyebrow, realizing he underestimated this stocky fellow in more ways than one. He nods slowly. "I suppose that's so."
The matron curtsies and sees Janus out.
The viscount nods. "You may bring on others as need be. As for contacting me, Magnus, my man who fought your dwarven friend, will be at the fighting ring every night of the second and sixth days of the week. Contact me through him." Your business concluded, you see yourself out and join up with Khaz.
You all go and get some much needed rest then meet up at Melia's apartment for dinner.
Once alone with ‘Garick’, Khaz rubbed the back of his head as they walked. ”Well, that was certainly something. Can’t say that I saw any of this coming. But let’s see how the others have fared. I bet that I’m the only one who managed to get his arse kicked on our time off. Heh. So, what happened in there...”
Fyrman pulls out the sack of coin he got from the Viscount and tosses it to the dwarf. "Well Khaz, we got ourselves a job." Grinning he continues. "I'll explain the details when we get together with the others tonight."
Once they are all together Fyrtor let's his disguise fade and goes through the details of what he's learned and the job that the Viscount's hired him for. "So I think this is good for us either way. We need to learn more about this Johnathan Davis. If he's working for a resistance he's a person we want to know, if he's working for a faction pushing for war then we need to see if we can find out who and why."
After their brief conference, Khaz and Garick head back to their residences and catch a short night's sleep. The next day, everyone meets at the residence rented by Melia for dinner.
As the others arrive for dinner, Melia intercepts Túrion.
"Hi, Janus!" she sparkles. As soon as he's out of view of the street, she hands him a note:
Detected abjuration aura from exterior. Down the alley. Check it out, please?
"Ah, Melia, silly me...I forgot the bottle of Wine I promised to bring...no, I insist - a promise is a promise - I'll fetch one and be right back!"
Stepping outside, he makes sure nobody is near, casts Detect Magic, then strolls down the alley, looking for a shop - or magical auras...
Nelly, significantly smaller, but not much less powerful, follows Janus. Having had some time to get acquainted with the smells of the city, she is cautiously sniffing for any unexpected smells that may hint at danger.
Janus detects a magical aura coming from behind some loose bricks a ways down the alley.
Janus slows his speed slightly, then stops, paying some extra attention to Nelly while staying in place and reading the weave of the aura.
Janus finds a section of wall that seems to have been repaired several years ago, the bricks being replaced about a foot across. It is in a fairly obscured, hard to notice corner of the alley. He detects a faint aura of abjuration.
Identify auras while using detect magic Arcana 15 + spell level
Identify a spell effect that is in place Arcana 20 + spell level
While Janis is away checking on whatever Mel sent him to check on Fyrtor takes a chair and sits. "So what's for dinner? One advantage I will admit to being in a city is there's a lot more options for food. Being on the farm or the road most of my life I didn't realize just how much variety you can find in the city."
”That reminds me. Gotta find a good tea shop while I’m here. Need plenty of leaves for the road. It’s amazing how many flavors mankind has found.”
"Khaz, I never asked you, where'd you learn to drink tea anyways?"