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Here we go again, thinks Wyeth as he nods mutely at Marduk's assessment. He quietly intones "గైడెన్స్" before reaching over to grab the staff of his fauchard and bangs the butt of it on the floor a few times.
"Here, now!" he bellows authoritatively. "Did you say 'Scevola?' We have need of the man's services. Surely this -- whatever 'this' might be -- can be settled after our business is concluded? I don't care to be delayed."
Elanzo pauses for a second. "You actually want the services of this lightweight? Hah, you must be desperate or stupid... desperate I can work with if you talk quick."
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Wyeth's eyes narrow but he speaks calmly, as if from a position of assured power. "Redundant. A merchant dealing from a position of desperation would already be stupid. And I am neither."
I'm pretty sure which you are though, he thinks sourly.
He pulls out a gold piece and flips it towards the man. "Here. Have an ale and a meal on me. Leave the man -- and the man's horses -- be for the moment. I don't care what happens once my business is concluded."
"Raimondo Scevola! Swallow your anger and uncross your eyes for the moment. What's this about cheating and drugged drinks? Have you proof, or are you simply a fool who wagers while besotted?"
"Cocky fella, ain't ya? Gotta be in this town.", he replies to Wyeth. When he tosses the coin to the captain in power, he catches with a single and inspects it. "IF you want me to leave that badly, give me another 299 crowns and you can do whatever you like with the louse."
Raimondo stands up at your call to him, but Elanzo pushes him back down again. "A fool he is, betting his business when he has a waiting client.", Elanzo answers for the drunk, who only begins to weep after being pointed out about his stupidity.
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An eyebrow goes up when the man pushes Raimondo down. "Do you fear what the man might say? Let him speak... 'Elanzo,' was it?"
"As for the gold, it wasn't intended to buy his debt. It was a gesture of good will towards someone I presume is a reasonable man. Don't cause me to doubt that presumption."
His eyes flick briefly to Scevola, then back to Elanzo. "He isn't worth three hundred to me. Nor, quite frankly, are you. Now let me know where you'll be and go about your other business. I'll advise you when ours has been completed, and you can pick up where you left off, if you wish."
"I'm afraid you aren't familiar with Bloodcove business, pal.", Elanzo's voice becoming stern, pulling his rapier out and putting it to the man's neck, albeit loosely. Raimondo's eyes flicker with defeat and solemn acceptance at Wyeth's words while the captain continues. "The way I see it, I'm the one in control here, and not you. Now for some reason, you need this man and his horses, and at the very least, I'm gonna take those mangy mules unless you offer me a better price for them."
You can tell Elanzo is a business man first and not a fighter, and really only wants 'his' horses and to go about his business.
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Wyeth sighs and says in an almost bored tone, "Marduk my good man, let me borrow that fauchard of yours for a moment. I want to show this fellow something. Heads up, gentlemen," he adds as he accepts the weapon.
He levels his gaze at Elanzo. "I am quite aware of what's laughingly considered 'business' around here. I did my fair share of bartering in the slums and sewers when I was first starting out, after all. But the true art of negotiation isn't in threats of physical violence. It's far more subtle than that. ఫియర్ కారణం, for example," he says casually as he lowers the fauchard to point it at the man.
As you draw the weapon, Elanzo's thugs draw saps and get in your way, preventing you from reaching the captain and Raimondo. "I see you are familiar with Bloodcove dealings. You may outnumber me, but I do have your most important piece, I do believe. So unless you want to get into a brawl and test who comes out ahead, why don't you cough up some more crowns to cover the drunkard's debts."
@Kerastes: Assuming you still speak as such from being farther back, Elanzo does reply to you. "I know you're not a business man, stoneskin, but you know you shouldn't interrupt a business dealing. Either leave us be to finish our transaction or offer us a satisfactory amount to do our business with you and not him.", tapping Raimondo on the head with the tip of his blade. "Hey, datsh pointy!"
"Good, at least one of you has some sense."
Elanzo then starts laughing with a deep bellow. "You sure are a strange lot! I coulda swore you tried to get in my face and my men pulled out their saps, ready to beat you senseless." He looks scornfully at Raimondo. "I think this drunk's inebriation must be rubbing off on me." The bodyguard's are still standing, but their weapons all stowed. "So let's try this again, shall we? Clean slate. 300 crowns and this pitiful man and his ponies are all yours.", the rapier still drawn, but no longer pointed at Raimondo.
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Benson tries to do a mental calculation of the value of a caravan of horses, wondering if the group might be better off paying the gambling debt and using the horses as part of the several tons of food needed for the Pathfinders, letting the Raimondo worry about how he'll get the caravan wagons off the ridge afterwards. But he's too distracted to get very far.
So he stops that and begins plotting out a way he can tumble and leap his way to the left past the thug with the red outline and flank him with Raevin, if it comes to a fight.
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"Although I just said that this is more a merchant situation, we all know that buying out a hostage is better suited for a bodyguard. That is because we can be counted on to settle things with violence if they can't be settled by words. Mind you, I'd rather we settle this by words than that I need to dirty my mace on your guards.
I offer you 150 gold to settle the debt of that lowlife, and that is only because I can not be bothered to carry the stuff around that my masters will buy. I am not a mule."
At Kerastes veiled threat, Elanzo raises an eyebrow at the stony man before him, tightening the grip on his blade. After the rest of the oread's words, though, Elanzo nods. "You are right about two things: this man is a lowlife, and a mule you ain't, although you are a chip off the ol' block, 'eh?", the man laughing haughtily for a second before the bodyguards chime in as well.
"Very well, I tire of this standoff. 150 crowns will certainly provide better fare than what his mangy mares would provide.", Elanzo sheathing his rapier and steps forward, his hand out awaiting the payment.
As Kerastes counts, Elanzo nods his head with tink of metal. At 149, he stops the oread. "The lil lady man there already chipped in the first. Fair deals and all, right Raimondo?", the drunk man now quiet as guilt slowly sobers him.
"Alright men, let's eat like a pack of ravin' goblins! And thank Raimondo for being a used codpiece of a cardplayer!", Elanzo donning his hat and laughing before walking out, his three guards in tow.
"Danks fellash.", is all Raimondo can muster.
"Well, fellas, I think I need to get shomethin ta drink, then take a nap.", Raimondo not fully sobered yet.
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Benson pulls Raimondo to his feet and supports him while at the same time moving him toward the door. "Boss has an investment in you, so you're going to get that nap somewhere without booze and no opportunities to gamble."
If he gives him any trouble, Benson will say, "My boss now owns your horses, so he owns you until you deliver what you've been paid to deliver already. So shut up and move your ass!"
"Yesh, shir!", Raimondo saluting Benson as he agrees to this. "I'll take a nap ova there.", pointing to a nearby room. "Come-a get me in tha mornin', *HIC*", the drunk man hobbling over to his room.
Hopefully his determination as a driver is better than his tolerance for alcohol.
That leaves only one more place to go: House Cartahagn for the supplies. Once again, I'll need your Intimidate/Disguise checks for bodyguards and Appraise/Diplomacy checks for merchants.
Reaching House Cartahegn is easy enough given the directions you were provided from Aram Zey. Surrounding a sprawling, two-story trading post is a mass of citizens and merchants alike. Some wear worried expressions and wring their hands, while others shout angrily at a well dressed young woman at the entrance.
"As I said," shouts the Cartahegn spokesperson atop a wooden crate, "all Cartahegn resources are needed to deal with this emergency with our sugarpress, and our storefront is closed for the remainder of the day or until management resolves the situation. We apologize for the inconvenience, but for now please return to your homes and paces of business."
As she climbs down, most of the grumbling mob begins to disperse.
@Marduk: Fully recovered since the bar fight, you do a fair job playing the angry looking half-orc.
@Kerastes: Playing a bit too much diplomat earlier, you don't quite have the angry sneer in you (arguably because it was beaten out of you prior).
You are getting more looks now as word of a group of newcomers is making waves. Much of it is of their memorable brawl with the owner of the Sanguine Pit. Between the many witnesses and the unusual makeup of the group, word is now out on the street about them. Luckily, most of the patrons were drunk, so the descriptions are still fuzzy, but it's enough that you're going to have a slightly harder time interacting with others as Aspis spotters are trying to look for the party.
"Thank you,", the young woman smitten by Raevin's fair features before sighing heavily. "Business is shut down while we deal with an issue with our sugarpess."
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"Yesh, shir!" Raimondo saluting Benson as he agrees to this. "I'll take a nap ova there," pointing to a nearby room. "Come-a get me in tha mornin', *HIC*, the drunk man hobbling over to his room.
Hopefully his determination as a driver is better than his tolerance for alcohol.
Benson would not let him stay in this place; it is too full of temptation to drink and gamble. He said he was taking him somewhere where he could sleep away from these things. I envision taking him either to his own residence or if he has none, to his office or a cheap hotel.
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Bodyguard check:
"We'll need to look sharp for signs we've been spotted by the AC. If we can't help with this sugar press issue, maybe we could invest in something to help us disguise ourselves."
Benson follows up with Raevin's help by saying, "My bosses are trying to keep on schedule. Is there anything we can do to help fix the problem. We've got three strong backs and some cash to throw at the problem, if it will help."
The woman is at first hesitant to look at Benson, his masterful steely glare cutting directly into her soul. But at his words, her eyes light up, an idea forming in her head. "Strong backs... that we can do something with.", the barely twenty-something woman surmises. "See, we have an ant situation in the sugarpress; we're losing thousands of pounds of sugarloaf by the hour, and frankly I doubt we'll be able to turn these clicky beasts back. We expended all the available sword arms we have at the issue, but all they've been able to do is chase them back into the basement. If any more show, we'll surely lose the entire mill."
She looks over the party, nodding over the three strongmen, and staring a bit more longingly over Raevin. "An idea just came to me, though. You see, my housekeeper makes a sort of lotion that frightens bugs away, and I bet if someone slathered a load of it in the ants' tunnel, it would keep 'em away long enough for us to rebrick the mill again. So whadya say? Help us out with this, and we can give you a nice discount in exchange for your services. Otherwise, I hope you don't plan on buying food in Bloodcove any time soon; as the main supplier of foodstuffs in this city, the prices will triple overnight if we can't get this dealt with!"
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"I'm sure we can be of some help there, m'lady. My friends and I are quite adept at odd jobs like this. Provide us with the lotion and direct us to this ant tunnel and we'll see what we can do. A discount on goods sounds like a great incentive, too" Raevin flashes her a smile, then turns to his companions for some corroboration.
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Having been less than effective in his last two attempts at mimicking merchants ("I told you I was no good at this," he'd said to Benson upon leaving the last building), Wyeth stays quiet as their next destination is reached. Especially when he sees how the young woman looks at Raevin.
A subtle smile tugs at the oracle's mouth as he watches them interact, and he gives a single nod of acceptance when the offer of assistance is made.
@Wyeth: You are just well dressed enough that you aren't getting too much attention.
Upon the party's agreement to help, the woman beams with a smile. "Yes, thank you!", she chirps ecstatically, ignoring everyone for a second to speak to herself outloud. "This is it Novaria, time to show the boss I'm worth the promotion!"
Turning back to the party, she then asks for everyone to wait just a minute. She returns with a foul smelling sack. "Okay, follow me to the basement.
She hands Raevin the sack, reminding them of their task. [b]"Please, step inside the tunnel a bit and coat it with this goo. It should convince the ants to stay away long enough for us to rebrick the tunnel and keep them out for good. The ants were driven back here, but there may still be some remaining. Good luck and kick some insect ass!", flexing her arm in solidarity with you. Novaria then heads upstairs to safety.
After the humidity topside, the stark dryness of the basement stands out as unsettling, almost as unsettling as the acrid smell and constant, methodical clicking emanating from the darkness. The remains of bags and crates lie scattered across the floor amid a sea of grayish dust, much of which seems to head to the large curtained door ahead.