"Could he somehow have received the cooperation from someone inside - would that possibility even merit consideration?" - Heldar adds.
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Shaggar, there are faint traces of lingering scent and a drop or two of liquid remaining in the bottle-- just enough for your gnoll tongue to pick up. It's a potion you have rarely tasted before, but it has a lingering fizzy effervescence you find super-refreshing!
(The bottle appears to have formerly contained an oil of Lighten Object. Your tongue is now half as light as it used to be! For an hour! Don't do anything kinky with it.)
The Arch Docent listens to all your speculations with a frown, then looks indignant at Rosalia's question.
"Of course not! The staff are quite rigorous in their... I... hrm. One moment," he mutters, and disappears down the hallway.
He returns several minutes later looking both chagrined and annoyed, with a nervous-looking guardswoman in tow. "Tell them what you told me!"
"Er, yes sir," the guardswoman says with a salute. "I was stationed in this room yesterday, for the afternoon shift... we had a disturbance in the main hall. There were two men having a pitched argument over a woman of their acquaintance-- it had come to blows, near one of the display cases, so we guards rushed to the scene to escort them out. They went reluctantly, but didn't cause any further problems."
The Arch Docent scowls. "So you were out of this room? For how long?"
"Not long, sir, perhaps ten minutes?"
The Docent throws up his hands as if beseeching the gods of Osirion to stop plaguing him with such trials.
Heldar's question merely makes him look aggrieved. "If you'd asked me yesterday, I would have said impossible! But given as my guards seem to be either dead or all played for fools...." he says with a glower at the guardswoman, who winces apologetically.
Javi stands to the side, doing his best to mask his impatience. "I guess it's not really a surprise at this point, but there's another tick on the side of 'he's not working alone'." He bounces on the balls of his feet, rocking forward and backwards slightly. "It'd be easy enough to look into some local fences to see if your items have been moved." He looks at the Arch Docent meaningfully, "But it won't be cheap. Good information never is."
All in all, the halfling looks to be ready to move on.
The Docent makes noises about allowing the Society access to the relics of the museum for study purposes, but leaves exact recompensation to be discussed based on what items can be recovered...
You leave the museum and return to the sun-drenched mid-morning. The crowds are still there, but they've dispersed a bit as nothing exciting has happened since you all went inside the museum.
Javi suggests that he start asking around in the more shadowy corners of the Bazaar, in order to try and track down the stolen items; as the group stands there weighing the benefits of a straightforward approach to the Crook Bearer versus the somewhat-more-elaborate plan to retrieve the fake and conduct a switcheroo... a tall, well-favored man ambles up to the group. Besides his height, his primary distinguishing characteristic is his bronze-hued skin.
He offers a white smile, and wordlessly proffers a note embossed with a silver beetle, and the Pathfinder insignia.
My friends,
I trust your work so far is going well. In the light of the scope of the task that awaits you, I deemed it wise to offer you additional reinforcement in the form of another Pathfinder agent. I have briefed him as to the general situation, but particulars I leave up to you. Best of luck,
-M.S.
The rangy gnoll eyes the newcomer and scratches an ear, "Greetings, sayyid."
Heldar offers a bow to the tall man - "Well met friend - I am Heldar" - he greets him.
Rosalia eyes up the new arrival with an arched brow and pursed lips. He didn't look like much at first appearances... "Name's Rosalia. You a local Pathfinder?"
The tall not-quite-human man smiled, his gaze taking in the motley yet capable-looking bunch. "Not precisely local, no, but a brother of the Open Road for all that."
"I'm Lyrian Arkwright," he continued. "I'm something of an Osirianologist. The Society sends me in to help recover items considered difficult to reach." The wry smile returns. "Or cursed."
As introductions are made, and the other Pathfinders start updating their new colleague as to the situation, Javi starts eying the crowd's lingering gawkers. Where there's a crowd, there's nearly always someone in his line of work profiting off that crowd... and he knows all the tricks of the trade that pickpockets use. He spots a pair of would-be thieves-- one working as the distraction, the other swiping coins from purses-- operating at the edges of the crowd, and invites himself over.
He greets them in a cheerful fashion, drops a bit of thieves' cant, and politely suggests that they could do him a solid by letting him know some of the local fences... and that way he won't have to disrupt their smooth operation.
The team is a elf man and a human woman; they look at each other warily, but finally the woman nods.
"Try down Copper Street. All the fences for people wanting to get goods out of Osirion without paying the Ruby Prince his cut tend to congregate there... Thutmose might buy whatever you're needing sold, or Auntie Niut..."
Javi doesn't correct their misinterpretation of why he's asking. He takes his leave of them, and returns to the others with a bit of a smug smile.
"Got a place we can begin our looking. C'mon, let's get to Copper Street."
The Malhitu Bazaar is jam-packed. Elbow-to-elbow crowds jostle for everything from fresh bread and fish to woven rugs and brass lamps. Parrots squawk trained phrases from the perches where they are chained, and a string of camels being taken to the livestock corrals temporarily holds up traffic for several minutes.
At length Javi is able to lead everyone to Copper Street, so named for the many coppersmiths that do business here. But, as he's learned, the street has less legal custom, too.
"Pretty lady! Northern lady!" a man hollers at Rosalia, holding aloft a copper bracelet with a turquoise stone. "Look, this would look good on you! For a lady so pretty, only ten gold!"
"Hstt, mighty gnoll-- copper rings for your ears? Be the pride of your tribe!" a wizened little man calls to Shaggar, displaying his wares on a board.
In the constant calls and sales-pitches of the bazaar in full swing, it is difficult to pick out many details, but Pathfinders would not be Pathfinders were they not sharp of eye and ear.
It's Heldar and your new friend who see the by-now familiar form of... a halfling with a topknot, engaged in what seems to be a vigorous but cheerful argument with a rake-thin older man. The halfling is showing off a curved khopesh blade, and haggling over how much he can get for it. But instinct or some second sense causes him to look back over his shoulder and catch sight of Shaggar's distinctive form striding through the crowd...
The halfling's eyes widen, almost comically so; he snatches the khopesh up, spins on his heel, and runs like dickens. The chase is on!
Iniative order is: Neversword >> Shaggar & Hatyah >> Javi >> Lyrian >> Rosalia >> Heldar bringin' up da rear.
The halfling sprints ahead, trying to wriggle through the dense crowds of Copper Street and put a tangle of bodies between him and you! He weaves and ducks past startled people, at one point scrambling right between a startled half-orc's legs as he tries to lose his pursuit.
He's a spritely little bugger, and the short legs of a halfling seem to give him no more trouble than Javi's ever do in keeping up with big people. You see him disappear through the crushing press of bodies, running into what looks to be a string of bellowing camels up ahead...
If people like a visual option
"Coming through!" yells the archaeologist with a surprisingly loud voice, fluent in Osirian. "Make way!"
Heldar stares marvelled at every single bench and peddles at the Malhitu Bazaar - eyeing the wares and people with equal amounts of admiration.
The sights and smells invade his senses as he moves through the crowd, everything completely foreign and new to him, and he loves it all.
As he was about to warn the others of the familiar halfling's presence a few yards away, the small one notices them and starts dashing away.
Quickly shaking away the initial surprise, he warns his companions - "Our halfling friend. There! He takes flight!" - then raises his voice trying to be heard through the throng of people - "Official business taking place! Part ways friends! We need immediate access!" - his Osirian is heavily accented, but perfectly clear.
Even though it is a gamble, he gathers as much attention to him, as quickly as possible, so he can have an opportunity to reach their target.
Rosalia pointedly ignores the stalls and wares, suspecting most goods here would be worth one-tenth of the offered price to her; those hawkers would assume she was an ignorant tourist (and they weren't wrong there) and take advantage of it. Instead she keeps her eyes upon Lyrian, attempting to ascertain his skills through simple observation and light chatter as they walk the streets of Sothis.
She does, however, notice that g#& d@$ned halfling--and lets out an angered shout as he makes a bolt for it. "HEY! GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE!"
Rosalia attempts to follow the Neversword directly, pushing past the crowd and attempting to duck beneath people's legs as necessary... not rememebering until it was a little too late that his diminutive height allowed him to pull off such feats somewhat easier than she herself could. She watches Lyrian and Heldar diplomatically (roughly speaking) manage to push their way through as she struggles to untangle her sword hilt from an old lady's bag. "Agh!"
Rosalia finds herself mired in the contents of an old lady's handbag! The woman shrieks curses in Osiriani and bats Rosalia about the shoulders with what appears to be a bag of bread.
Lyrian barks out an order and startled Osiriani natives clear out of the tall aasimar's path. Heldar takes a somewhat more polite approach, and the two of them manage via judicial application of verbal carrot and stick to make progress through the crowd-- only to come up against a wall of milling animal flesh.
Camels bleat and bellow, tugging at the ropes that their keepers hold. The animals are restless, and the sounds of incoming chaos only make them more so!
One might be able to weave and twist through the huge animals-- or one might be able to mimic the commands the beasts are trained to answer to. Or one might trust to one's knowledge of animals to predict the best route by which to skirt the knot of animals.
Javi is only a second behind the other halfling. "Let's see if the halfling lives up to the rep," he grunts as he dives through the throng, vaulting up onto and over a stall to clear the area quickly.
Javi matches the other halfling nearly step for step, springing around like a small pinball through the Bazaar!
Shaggar barks a command at the large hyena and then lets his own size do the talking. He snarls and plows through anyone too slow to get out of his way.
Hearing her master's order, the hyena lets out a blood-curdling yipping laugh then runs up and off the gnoll's back in a high leap over and through the crowd - intent on downing her quarry. Her jaws snap a warning at anyone near her.
Shaggar doesn't check his long-legged stride as he nears the camels. His claws scratch the earth as he slaps the nearest camel a hard thump on the side and lets his predator's musk encourage the camels to get out of the hunter's way before they become a meal.
Hatyah, with no proper launching pad, scrambles deftly through the crowds and surges between the camels, dogging the heels of the halfling.
Way to go, Dien!
Shaggar growls his way past a nigh-terrified crowd, while his loyal animal friend bounds right over the heads of those gathered!
The halfling throws a glance over his shoulder only to swear savagely as he realizes that most of you are practically on his heels. Gyeep! He scrambles over a camel, swinging from its dangling leather harness, and vaults beneath another like a bottle rocket.
Through the press of panicking pack animals, you can see the halfling dart towards a two-story warehouse, scanning the exterior wall for foot-and-hand-holds as he clearly considers making a break for the rooftops above. The startled warehouse attendant gawks at him. The halfling takes notice of a pulley-and-rope crane designed to lift heavy goods to the second story, and draws his dagger as he dashes towards the machine.
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Rosalia does her best to duck and weave under the old woman's angry bread-flailing and dislodge her sword from whatever it had caught on. Before the woman can deal even more damage to her pride, Rosalia dashes off, trying to remember where the rest of her group had gone to. She dances her way between the throngs of people, this time trying to shout (at least somewhat gently) for them to get out of her way and avoiding silly stunts like crawling around on her hands and knees. Rook pokes his head out of his bed in her backpack, possibly providing some extra cute-points to convince people to listen to the strange, red-faced foreigner's words. Or maybe he just liked to see his mistress in a spot of trouble.
Having gotten somewhat lost, Rosalia asks for directions from a nearby merchant. She winds up skirting around the outside of the press of dromedaries and down a side-alley that manages to completely avoid the camels and leads up to... well, places unknown!
Where the other (taller) halfling bounces through the obstacle course of camel flesh, Javi simply tucks and rolls, letting his momentum carry him like a tumbleweed between their towering legs. He comes up still at a full sprint, little arms and legs pumping furiously in pursuit. ”Neversword, huh? I was expecting someone taller!”
Shaggar snorts, "He lost the right to such a title when he killed a guard."
[oocLyrian is a risk-taker by nature, and tries to move three cards![/ooc]
Lyrian slips through the crowd of camels, chooses the one who looks fastest, leaps on its back and cries "Ha!" while digging in his heels. He sees Neversword about to climb to the rooftops and rides around the tenement to try to cut of the little rotter at the other end.
Round 2 Summary
Shaggar snarls his way past the camels, who respond instinctively to his animal-ish presence by scattering! His growl takes on a note of... well, for lack of a better word, a herd dog (sorry Shaggar)-- the camels not only scatter, they clear a path among the citizenry, who hurl themselves to the sides of the street to avoid getting caught under massive camel feet! Shaggar is able to stride down the street largely unimpeded, and makes excellent progress down the street, and to a raised guard-post!
Hatyah, meanwhile, just scrabbles along. It's so rare that Shaggar gives her leave to run wild through a city! Very exciting. Chase halfling scent!
Rosalia manages to get loose from the old woman and twists free, ducking down a side alley and darting up a flight of stairs that leads her to... a rooftop! Looking back, she can see she is now actually ahead of the thief, who is running her way!
Meanwhile, Lyrian has briefly commandeered one of the camels. Is camel-surfing a thing? It is now. Congratulations, you've pioneered a new sport! Lyrian catches up to Shaggar thanks to the long legs of his humpy camel friend, and nimbly flips off the beast's back to land beside the gnoll by the guard-post.
Rosalia finds herself on the far side of a gap between two rooftops-- the rooftop of the building the thief is currently attempting to reach, and her own. The space between the two buildings is a tangle of half-rotted beams and canvas-- a most treacherous bridge, unless one is very sure of foot... or keen of eye, to spot the weakest beams and the strongest ones.
Shaggar and Lyrian, meanwhile, have made it past Rosalia and to the terminus of the rooftop route: a squat guard-post where a half-orc market sentry stands vigil, looking out over the Bazaar. And by 'stands vigil' we mean 'naps on the job', as even the chaos of the bellowing camels hasn't woken him from his snoring. You could move easily around him if you were quiet.... or you could try waking him up and enlisting him to stop a thief.
Heldar hesitates against the sea of unusual pack of beasts, while trying to move through or around them. He thinks he can recall having observed others driving such animals along a chosen path in an orderly fashion, but they were not camels, and he has no practical idea of how this should be done.
Hatyah leaps and scrabbles trying to mount the roof and follow her prey. Alas her size is to her detriment at chasing squirrels along ledges. She yodels her anger.
Baaaaaaad luck shall follow you til the end of your daysss! Or at least for the next 36 seconds!
A shiver of ill fortune runs down the halfling's spine as he scrambles onto the crane. He slices with his dagger at the rope that holds the crane's crank mechanism.
Good news and bad news. Good news: your enemy was close enough to cast the twisting lines of fate upon him. Bad news: he's still zipping up to the rooftops, swinging on the cut rope of the crane. He lands on the rooftop nimbly... only to look up and see Rosalia standing before him.
Hatyah, alas, scrabbles at the warehouse wall, sniffing around for a place better to try and ascend.
Since Lyrian has managed to outflank Neversword, he will simply wait for him to arrive and then demand surrender.
The gnoll silently sniffs at the sleeping guard closely and then prepares to intercept the little thief when he draws close. Shaggar flexes his claws and snaps his jaw.
Rosalia is quite shocked to see the Neversword suddenly before her (how on earth did she manage to get in front of him?! The world may never know!), although not so much to not grin devilishly his way.
"Oh, what a pleasant surprise," she says with a sneer. "This certainly makes things easier!"
Arcane words leap to her tongue, home-written poetry intermingled with words of power. She clicks her fingers, and as she does so, a small rift opens in the sky above the Neversword, releasing a sudden downpour of tiny, silver particles all over him.
"That's clever!" Javi says as he launches himself up the wall in pursuit. "You ever do any real thieving? Or do you generally just hide inside stuff and have random guards killed for distractions?"
While Javi's ascent is more difficult, it is no less rapid. He practically flies up the wall, smoothly launching himself from nook to cranny to ledge before cresting the roofline and keeping furiously on the Neversword's halfling heels.
Rosalia gestures-- and an enveloping cloud of gold, shimmering dust envelops the halfling. In the instant before it settles over him, you see him throw up his forearm in a flash, trying to shield his face and eyes from the worst of the glitter. It was an excellent attempt... a pity it did not work.
The halfling curses in Halfling (Javi, there's something about a goat and a lady and maybe an ear trumpet?) and freezes, all too aware that before he was blinded, he was getting ready to run across a maze of narrow, rotting beams... that he can't even see, now.
"I've stolen many a priceless heirloom, but never anybody's sight! Foul play! You cheat, my friends! And I haven't killed anybody in, oh, at least three weeks time!"
The gold-dust-covered halfling cocks his head, and seems to hear that three of you are closing in on him. He tosses the dagger in his hand to the rooftop, at his feet, and lifts his hands well above his head.
"Pax! I've no desire to break my neck, at least not today!"
Lyrian knows none of this, and simply waits for the halfling to emerge from the slums.