Erik/Hobbes/Kel/Kelgan
The bossy, bulky figure of Mother Bartha greets you on your arrival back at the monsastery you are coming to know well.
"It's about time. What in the world have you been doing this time? Sybil was very worried," she snaps in greeting, arms folded and feet tapping impatiently.
"What have you done with Sister Ceara? She was a quiet and obedient novice before you arrived and then she ... ah."
Your demeanour, as well as the sight of a carefully wrapped body alerts her to exactly what has happened to Sister Ceara and her manner, while not exactly softened, is slightly less arctic.
"Kelemvor will grant her his grace," she says formally.
Urlag
You lost them a few days ago, and it's been a good few days, apart from the complete lack of food, fields and people. A lot of the countryside you've passed through has been just blank, almost as if something or someone had sucked it clean away. Landscape returned about 10 miles ago, but in this largely uninhabited region, the monastery is the first place you've seen offering shelter and food for a while.
Your brief experience of Mother Bartha makes you keen to leave already, but the arrival of strangers bearing a body has attracted your attention. As has Mother Bartha's hectoring tone.
"It's about time. What in the world have you been doing this time? Sybil was very worried. What have you done with Sister Ceara? She was a quiet and obedient novice before you arrived and then she ... ah." There is a short silence and then,
"Kelemvor will grant her his grace,"
Ava/Arrika
Nobody and nothing is exactly right. The landscape has been plucked bare. Almost as if something had dragged it up by its roots. Both of you were aware of immense arcane forces at work, but the exact location proved impossible to pinpoint. The focus seemed to be moving around.
Landscape returned about 10 miles ago, but in this largely uninhabited region, the monastery is the first place you've seen offering shelter and food for a while.
Your brief experience of Mother Bartha makes you keen to leave already, but the arrival of strangers bearing a body has attracted your attention. As has Mother Bartha's hectoring tone.
"It's about time. What in the world have you been doing this time? Sybil was very worried. What have you done with Sister Ceara? She was a quiet and obedient novice before you arrived and then she ... ah." There is a short silence and then,
"Kelemvor will grant her his grace,"
The hulking half-orc moves into the room behind Mother Bartha, with surprising quiet -- by his manner, it his norm, rather than an attempt at stealth.
Deciding not to jump into a situation where he doesn't know the rocks, Urlag merely stands (looms) and observes.
Arrika wanders in and closer to see what's happening, although she stays a respectful distance away from the group. Leaning back against a wall, she watches quietly.
Kelgan briefly nods at the half-orc before turning back to Mother Bartha, his face as stony as before. "Should we take her back to the chapel and let you begin the funeral?"
Ava stands in the background by the wall with Arrika, observing the newly arrived strangers carefully. "How strange...such respect for a changeling...very interesting", mutters Ava to Arrika. "What do you make of this, tiefling?"
"Indeed. You should take her to the Chapel. You know the way."
"It speaks well of them." Arrika says. "Changeling, like my own people, are often mistrusted because of what they - and we - are." Finding herself more curious now, Arrika pushes off the wall to follow to the chapel. She still stays well out of the way.
Overhearing the tiefling's remarks, Urlag grins toothily and flips Arrika a lazy salute. Then, as none but the other half-orc seems to be paying him any mind, he follows to the chapel out of curiosity.
The chapel offers a haven even within the generally calm atmosphere of the monastery.
Kelgan gently places Ceara's surprisingly light body on the dais in front of the altar. A veiled sister enters quietly and covers the corpse with a cloth heavily embroidered with Kelemvor's symbol of scales clasped in a skeletal hand.
"If you wish to pay any final respects to the departed, it is appropriate to do so now," she says gently.
"A half-orc bears a dead changeling. A story here," Urlag murmurs.
In the silence that follows, the short service is almost a welcome distraction.
The sonorous words that offer Kelevor's guidance to the departed wash over you all and nothing untowards occurs until the very end. As the last words are forming on the celebrant's lips to conclude the rite, a change comes over the sigils adorning the cloth covering Ceara. Slowly, but inexorably, the symbols change to those of Lolth, Demon Queen of Spiders. Webs wrap themselves around the changeling and a single word is spoken.
"Mine."
The celebrant sister gasps and tries vainly to place herself in front of the body, but nothing can be done. Ceara's little corpse is gone and in its place lie webs in a simulcarum of her form.
Shaking slightly, the sister in charge concludes the ritual as best she can and turns to the companions.
"I am sorry. There was nothing I could do. Not even Kelemvor could protect her from her patron."
When things begin to go wrong, Urlag whips his falchion around, growling when no target presents itself. "Her patron?" he demands. "Who was this?"
Erik greets the strange newcomers warmly
"It seems her story about the drow was true. I didn't get to know her very well, but I hope she eventually manages to find peace."
Ava hisses at the manifestation of the webs, too stunned by the events to draw her sword or do much else. "The Spider Queen...", gasps Ava in shock as she gesticulates signs of warding with her fingers.
"I sadly doubt she would be able to find peace in Her embrace...", says Ava to Erik. She nods in acknowledgement of the others.
"I fear not. The Spider Queen does not allow her worshippers to rest easily." The sister looks sadly at the remnants. "This is not a happy return for you. I am sorry. You have lost a comrade twice over."
"We will bury what we can. Her passage through this life at least shall be marked."
This sounds like dismissal and as if to emphasise the point, a bell rings somewhere in the depths of the monastery. She gestures slightly. "The evening meal. Eat and rest and take what comfort you can."
In distinct contrast to the sombre events in the chapel, the refectory is bustling. The abrupt disappearance of the surrounding landscape has brought a flurry of visitors, all eager to rest, refresh themselves and swap tales of their journeys.
One man, bright eyed and intelligent, seems to watch as each new arrival enters, only to sit back again, as though he was expecting someone. As you walk through the door, he seems to go on the alert, clearly waiting for a moment to approach your newly formed group.
Arrika remains respectfully silent during all of the proceeding about the fallen changeling. Once the group is dismissed, she eagerly walks to the rectory, since she's hungry.
Her horns are small and curve along the sides of her head and are inscribed with various runes.
Her tail is close to 5 feet long and it's almost always in motion. Nine golden rings pierce it - the first an inch from it's base, and one more every inch further along it.
Her outfit is a mix of red and black. The black is her scandalously low cut leather armor, as well as the almost knee high spiked heeled boots she wears. The red consists of the blouse she wears under the armor, as well as the skirt she wears over it. In addition, a red lace choker is around her neck, and she has an amulet there as well. A rod, with many demonic looking images on it, hangs off a belt at her waist.
She tends to wear Calishite perfumes, which add a mix of spice to her scent.
Once at the refectory, she gets her food. And, noticing the man watching them all, the tiefling moves to his table to sit. Clearly, he wants something of them - and good or bad, she'd like to get it out of the way so she can eat in peace.
Kelgan makes his way to the refectory. Once he has a seat, he waves over to the man and the tiefling who joined him. "Come, eat with us! You want to ask us something, correct?"
"Intelligent and proactive. I like you already."
The man offers an arm to Arrika.
"Shall we join them? I'm looking for the right sort of help. If you're who I think you are, then the Reverend Mother's violent disapproval is a great recommendation."
As he arrives at Kelgan's table, he sits, pulls a full tankard towards him and adds cheerfully, "Lucius Maltin. Hoping you can be at my service."
Urlag takes a plate and piles it high, then finds the other half-orc's table. Arriving in time to hear Maltin's introduction, he grumbles, "Urlag. At my own service. But I can listen."
"Of course we could be at your service. If you have the coin, of course."
"I wouldn't be wasting your time if I didn't have coin. That would be foolish and you don't look like the kind of people who suffer fools gladly. I don't myself."
Kel will join Kelgan at the table with a big plate of greens, "Don'tcha just love a good dandelion salad, it fills you up and gives you strength for the day." "Follow it down with some fresh spring water with a hint of citrus and you have the best meal ever."
Ava follows behind Arrika, looking around the hall as she enters, and sits at the table with the others, watching them in silence.
"Kel, we have a client. Mr Maltin, meet Kel. Kel, meet Mr Maltin. Now, what is it you want us to do, exactly?"
Kelgan
"Good to meet you, Kel. I want a group of mercenaries removed. I say "mercenaries", but that's a little polite. "Hired killers" would be closer. The Oreme watch are good, hard working men, but this is not really in their league."
"Hnh. Who are they killing? Or trying to? I don't know these folks yet, but it might make a difference."
"Killed. My son."
Just for a moment, Maltin's face goes very grim.
"All in a day's work. He was checking the warehouses. They were breaking in. They got careless and he heard them. He got careless and they heard him. The official verdict is death by drowning. Barstow's Bloodhounds, they're called. They specialise in retrieving missing objects."
"Oooo...Heroics, our specialty."
"You said they specialize in retrieving missing objects, has anything unusual gone missing from your town?"
Urlag's gaze flattens at the answer. "Yes, answer Mr. Salad, and tell us more. Everything."
"The Bloodhounds hire themselves out as "retrievers". I'm a merchant and I've made a good living for myself. Like Barstow's outfit, I find things for people. Mostly special wines, odd ingredients but some arcane knick-knacks and rituals come my way as well. The difference is I trade, I don't steal things. Barstow approached me a couple of years ago. Wanted to know if I was interested in partnership of a kind. I wasn't. I hired more guards and let it lie. As it turns out, that was a mistake.
Look, I want justice for my son. He didn't deserve to die. I don't trust the Watch to take on Barstow and his crew and I'm prepared to pay well to finish them. They were on someone's trail until a few days ago, but now they've got another job. It's taken them back to Oreme. I don't know what their target is, but I want it to be the last thing they ever hunt down."
Arrika looks very interested in the man's story, but her words are cautious ones. "You have evidence that they are criminals, yes? That this wasn't just an accident? I'm not trying to be callous. My appearance and profession aside, I do try to work on the side of what's right, and I just want to be sure that they are proper to hunt."
Hobbes stops petting his cat and looks around the table and then looks at the merchant.
"I agree with the Tiefling. She makes a valid point. Right now, I want to blow some people up more than anything, but they have to be villians. What evidence do you have that these mercs are the ones responsible for your son's death?"
Hobbes takes another large drink from his flagon. Cassie meows something at Hobbes from his lap but he just shushs her.
"Quit mothering me, Cassie!"
"Nice cat," comments Maltin absently, taking a considering look at the group.
"I don't think the worse of you for wanting to be sure, believe me. As for proof, well, they're wanted in a few places for theft and when I went to identify my son, I found this."
Reaching into his coat, he pulls out a leather wallet. Opened, you see it contains folded papers and a gold earring, marked with a pair of entwined hands.
"Barstow rewards his people well. This has been on the Watch's missing items list for months. It's part of a set. Look."
He extends the package and you see that the papers are a set of wanted posters and an up to date list of missing items.
"It's not conclusive, but it's the best I can do."
Erik eats a hearty meal with several cups of wine and listens intently.
"Please excuse me if I remain skeptical of mercenary dealings. It doesn't feel right for us to go from saving the world to acting as glorified assassins. I feel sorry for your child, sir, but there must be a higher authority better suited to such deeds. Vengeance does make for a compelling story, but it is often one of great tragedy for all those involved. I will be up front and say right now, that this doesn't feel right to me."
The last sentence is mostly directed towards the remaining members of the original party.
Maltin nods in acknowledgement of Erik's words.
"I asked for their removal. I will accept that removal to mean imprisonment rather than death. I do want vengeance for my son's death, but I'm not prepared to brand myself or anyone else a murderer to achieve that. Find them and stop them. Render them harmless. That is what I ask. If they end up dead, I won't weep, but I'm not offering to pay you to be hired killers. That would be just a touch hypocritical, don't you think?"
Arrika glances to Hobbes. "Arrika. Arrika Zannifer to be precise. Not 'the tiefling'" As she says that, her tail swings up and across the table to get the wanted posters. She lifts them up and brings them to her and starts to study them.
Rev:
Hobbes seems convinced by Maltin's evidence. He scans the group and then addresses Erik.
"I understand your reluctance, Erik, but you must've noticed by now that 'saving the world' doesn't pay very well. You may be able to live without money, but I am not as skilled as you are in music or storytelling. I've traded on my looks before and have no desire to do so again. This is a job, not a quest. Are you adverse to some work?"
Hobbes puts a little edge in his voice with the last question. Despite his admission to the contrary, everyone can see that Hobbes is getting better with his theatrics.
Arrika
"I've dealt with authorities over the years. I've done my share of bounty hunting for escaped and wanted criminals. The posters look legitimate to me. I think we should help the man."
"You all are heroes. Me, I'm just a mercenary. I say we accept the deal."
Urlag grins at Kelgan. "I'm in, if the money is right and you heroes will have it. And you might want to -- I know something about these Bloodhounds."
Maltin makes no comment, but his eyebrows raise slightly at Urlag's words.
"If you have need of an extra hand, I am willing to lend it, providing we split the spoils-", says Ava, who then turns her attention to Urlag, "-fairly."
"Adventure Inc. welcomes you, even heros need asistance." "Now lets finish lunch and head out to end the sway of miscreants and villians."
Hoo-Rah!!!
Kel then sits back down and quietly eats his meal.
"These are my terms. 100 gold each as a down payment and token of good faith. On your return with proof of neutralisation, a further 300 gold each. I will pay your travel costs and and reasonable expenses."
Maltin makes his offer calmly, but you can't help but notice his pleasure that the group (for the most part) seem inclined to help him.
"Adventure Inc. welcomes you, even heros need asistance." "Now lets finish lunch and head out to end the sway of miscreants and villians."
Hoo-Rah!!!Kel then sits back down and quietly eats his meal.
Ava sits somewhat taken aback by Keledilinthir's enthusiasm, sitting motionlessly, save a few blinks, for some moments. She then turns her attention to Maltin, accepting his offer of gold, but eyeing him shrewdly...
Ava
Arrika reaches over to take the missing items list and looks that over. "If we find any of the items on this list, whom should we return them to?" she asks. "Do you know?"