GM Henry Fortuna's First Steps (Session 1) [Group 2] [Completed] (Inactive)

Game Master Signore di Fortuna

Gilga stands carefully and looks the elf in the eye. "Forgive me, but these children are in my care and I must look after them. I don't know any of you well enough, so, in regards to Sir Healer's request, I must make sure that the children are safe. We can talk afterwards."

Cedrick with definitely tag along to see the children.

OOC: really? the little old lady is going to get in Aesantiel's grill? no lack of gumption.

Not giving any ground, and looming over the much smaller old woman. Aesantiel says, "I believe you've had too much tea. You really want to sit down while the choice is still yours."

If Gilga attempts to move past, Aesantiel will firmly, and in a business-like, but entirely uncompromising way, trip Gilga back into her seat with a readied action.

Smiling sweetly and entirely insincerely, "My companions are thoroughly nice. I am perhaps not so nice, but you'll be remaining here with me. Altogether satisfactory. Gentlemen, please do go tend to the children. Gilga and I obviously have some work to do before we entirely understand each other."

oh, and just for grins and giggles I'll throw in an
Intimidate: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Since that's what Aesantiel is materially attempting. I can at least hope the GM applies some generous circumstantial bonuses. :)
Hey! the dice gods are not uncompromisingly cruel!

Wow...Well, Intimidate DC was 16. So...

Gilga sits back down, but she remains unwilling to let the elf have the last word. "Oh, that's quite nice of you. Intimidating old women?! Feh, back in my day, young'uns would show respect to their elders. I guess the Society is spewing out more thugs that care more about their pockets than other people. Whatcha gonna do next, girlie? Hit me? Are ya? Are ya?"

1d6 ⇒ 2

The rest of the group has 20 minutes to do what they need to while Gilga is "occupied".

"Is that an invitation or a request? You'll find I can be very accommodating in some things."

Gilga smirks and sets her hands in her lap. Shortly, a dozen cats come strolling through the room. An old grey cat jumps up onto Gilga's armchair. The old woman scratches behind its ears.

"Whatever you like, girlie, whatever you like," Gilga grins, jagged and broken teeth making her face more ghoulish.

Elross fidgets with the axe head in its ring sheath, confused at how the situation has yet again turned a different direction. "How about you guys hurry along with that medicine," he suggested, "I'll hang back with Aesantiel and Gilga." Granted he has only known Aesantiel a very short time, Elross is surprised by her sudden fierceness. "I understand your need to make sure things are handled properly Aesantiel," he adds stepping back into the room, "But we were sent here to investigate and deliver, there is no need for this to come to violence. Lady Gilga has given us her word, and maybe it would be best if the Society instead sees to it that is it kept."

Simon moves further into the house, searching for anything off while looking for the sick children.

"Elross, your compassion and consideration speak well of you. You are very nice. One such as this," she nudges Gilga with her knee, "trades on your niceness. She hides behind her age, and the innocence of children."

Aesantiel continues to gaze implacably at Gilga. "We give her opportunity to provide explanation, to justify the small irregularities we see. She denies and dissembles and deceives. Every wriggle, every weaseling word indicts her further."

"This Gilga Baltwin is twisting your niceness into a poison to lull you to sleep - to wither your rampant ardentcy. At minimum she is a drunk and a bigot. Do not further arm her and fuel her deceptions with your niceness and compassion."

Directly addressing herself to Gilga, "I do not know your custom, but I have made some study of human traditions. If you desire to avoid rank humiliation and public loss of honor, I am willing to assist you in.. I believe you call it.. 切腹 ('seppuku')? The ritual disembowling - I'm not sure I've pronounced it correctly."

Again to Elross, but with her eyes locked on Gilga, "Elross, would you be a dear and fetch a large, very sharp, disembowling knife from the kitchen?"

Cedrick follows Simon out, looking for anything out of place in the house.
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Presumably before the above interaction.

Not wanting to take part in the disemboweling ritual nor abandon Aesantiel in this tense situation, Elross grasps his axe head firmly and yells to the others, "How you guys doing up there?"

Sense Motive 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Where did all these cats come from, he asks himself. Gently nudging one away with his foot, Elross remembers old Madame Mvashti and her cats. What is it with old women and having tons of cats, he snidely thinks, dogs are much better companions.

At this point, the only ones who can hear Aesantiel are Gilga and Elross. I'm assuming Krygmar went along with Simon and Cedrick.

"I don't think I like your tone," Gilga sneers. "Perhaps the town guard would like to hear what you have to say."

Gilga gets a fiery look in her eyes, but makes no move.

Fair warning, any further threats against Gilga will end the Intimidate effect and she will initiate combat.

The cat jumps off the chair. It rejoins the small group on the floor, who immediately begins rubbing up against Elross.

"i take it,then, that is not your tradition. A simple, 'no, thank you, I'd rather not disembowel myself at the moment,' would have sufficed."

"so you say you have children. What are their names? Do you see them often?"

Cedrick rejoins Simon in the hall. It seems our medicine donation is not needed. This house is well supplied from at least three other charities.

Gilga looks at Aesantiel, her fiery look not diminished but her apprehension somehwat lessened. "I haven't seen my children in years. That's the nature of life. Children grow up, move out and try to make their way in the world. Perhaps that is a blessing. I doubt there was ever a week in my life when I wasn't taking care of someone. As for their names, it no longer matters. I'm sure they have forgotten mine."

"Did your children bring you pride and joy when you knew them? What avocations did they pursue?"

"How many children are with you now? What are their names? What are their aspirations?"

"Shoo you little bastards," Elross says annoyed, "I don't have anything for you." Trying to push the cats away as best as he can he thinks to himself, at least dogs listen when you tell them to go away.

Simon replies to Cedrick.
"I figured something was up. We just have to go about this the right way."
He hen pauses, hearing the coughing.
"Sounds like someone is sick in here. I would take those things as proof to bring back to the temple of Sarenrae. I am going to take a look in here and see if I can help the occupant."

Kyrgmar cocks his head when he hears the coughing. "I'm right behind ya Simon." He tightens his grip on his hammer. I just hope it's not the mother cat. He will try and gently push the door open with the end of his Hammer.

Gilga's Sense Motive:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

"What's with all these questions? What are you up to, girlie?"

Gilga's starts to get suspicious of Aesantiel's pointless questions, but, given that elf could possibly be a psychopath, she remains seated. She grunts to herself and waves dismissively at Aesantiel.

"Ain't important."

She adds a good helping of the bottle's contents to her second cup of tea. She shifts her glance to Elross. Another creepy grin crosses her ugly face.

"What's wrong? Don't like cats?"

"I am getting to know you. If someone asks me, I want - it is my genuine hope - to report, 'all other things aside, Gilga Baltwin cares intensely about all of her children; her own natural children, as well as those entrusted to her. She is intensely involved in their lives, and works tirelessly to ensure her children fulfill their ambitions.' Instead, I fear that I must conclude, 'Gilga Baltwin does not know the names of the children under her care, nor how many there are. Her interest is excited only by her favorite whiskey, visits from donors, and her cats.'" Aesantiel gazes coolly at Gilga.

"It offends my sensibilities to be forced to conclude that a person is not fulfilling their commitments, and actively attempting to conceal that failure. Such behavior is corrosive and counterproductive, sometimes dangerous. When such behavior involves children, then the corrosion can extend over generations. My people take generations-long bad behavior very seriously."

"Now that I have permitted you to divert the discussion, and I have done you the courtesy of explaining myself and my motivations, I ask you earnestly, Gilga Baltwin, can you help me form an accurate, complete response to the question, 'assess the character of Gilga Baltwin'?"

"Well it is alright to talk to me, how are you feeling?"
Simon asks the child.
Heal 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Gilga looks back at Aesantiel. "Look here, girlie. These kids aren't here to stay n' I ain't aiming to keep 'em either. As soon as I send one off, I get five more. I provide services to the poor and forgotten n' if you could find me a cleric who could remember every single person who'd come in the their temple, then I'd surely admit I was wrong. But I doubt you could. Some are here for a few hours and some for days and some longer than that. As far as my own children are concerned, it's not your business. They've gone and left and have nothing to do with what I do now. I may not be as nice as these sugary folk you're used to, but I make sure that every child walks out that door healthy. I don't know what else you want from me."

"What are you serving for dinner this evening? What are you eating, what are the cats eating, and what are the children eating? Will I find it on the stove in the kitchen? What is in your larder?" Aesantiel's questioning continues implacably, imperturbedly, and in an almost conversational tone.

Simon kneels down next to the child.
"No one is going to get mad. We are just here to make sure everyone here is getting the medicine we are bringing you. We also wanted to know if any weird things are going on here. Have you seen any suspicious looking strangers here?"
Diplomacy 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

Elross continues to push the cats away, only giving Gilga an annoyed glance. As long as Aesantiel is talking instead of threatening, I'll keep my mouth shut, he thinks to himself.

5 minutes have passed at this point.

Gilga rolls her eyes. "You'll find a fine stew cooking on the stove. Should be done in an hour or so. The cats eat the mice around the town. I've never seen one go hungry and the townsfolk appreciate it. Larder is a bit empty today, I maybe have a sack of flour and some old vegetables. I'll need to see Miltivis this afternoon."

"ما هي اللغات الأخرى تتكلم?"

Even with some sharpness in her tone, the strains of elvish sound like trills of bells in the wind. To any who actually know the tongue, Aesantiel's accent is a bit hissy and slithery - many voiced liquids are instead aspirated - 'ell's coming more as 'ehlh' and 'err's coming as 'frhh'. it's an odd, whispery sort of accent, and somehow also very archaic. Even in its oddity, it chimes and sings, when contrasted with the chellish common tongue, or harsh nasals and deep dipthongs of Osirian.

"Hmm, do all the children go to Mr Percy? Do you not have another choice?"

That sounds like a job, not a charity. Though, it may teach responsibility.

Tell me little one, do you have a choice about going at all? Do all the children help people in the neighborhood? Do you get paid for this work?

Gilga sniffs and replies to Aesantiel. "وأنا أتكلم هذه اللغة بشكل جيد. أنا لا أعرف الأخرى التي تحدث."

"How did you come to speak Ossirian - I sense there's a story there."
~...~
"Have you learned other languages? traveled?"

"In a city such as Absalom, you can't help but pick up a few things. It makes life easier," Gilga says, a little more relaxed due to the alcohol and the fact that she can control the conversation. "I also speak Kelish and Varisian. But, no, I haven't traveled. Life did not ever give me that luxury."

Gilga gazes wistfully at the ceiling. Her face takes on an almost contemplative look.

"We all have our callings in life. I was called to raise my eight brothers and sisters, then my three, and now these orphans. I've had a healer's knack, I suppose. If I had the strength or the will, perhaps I would have left this kind of life behind. But where would I be now, eh? Those are dreams for the young and the spirited," Gilga ponders with a short cackle. "You're lucky, Miss. You have a life ahead of you, company of dubious reputation and the lack of cynicism that makes travel and adventure such a blessing. Don't forget that."

"Not orc, or elvish? Gnome, dwarvish, goblin, giant, draconic? any of the elemental languages?"

Gilga laughs. "No need to."

"Thank you, make sure you get enough rest so you can get back on your feet."
Simon thanks the child, pats him on the head, and heads down the hall to find Timothy.

Krygmar follows quietly behind Simon "Seems a bit strange that they just shoved off like that. Then again I guess it's better than them been on the streets."

Simon replies to Krygmar.
"Yeah, it does. Let's hope Tim knows exactly what is going on. We don't have have much power to change things here unless we have some solid evidence of problems here."

"So you've always lived in Absalom. Here? In this house?"
~...~
"Have you always been called Gilga Baltwin? No marriages? No changed names, no religious orders? Always Gilga Baltwin?"

'What are they up to? I'm just about out of material to stall with. It would be best if they found enough to justify my badgering this woman interminably.'

Elross tries to interject when he hears that Gilga speaks Varisian, however he is stopped by one of the cats that is trying to sharpen its' claws on his boots. "Aye, get out of here," he snaps, finally fed up with the constant annoyance.

Intimidate Check (+8 for size) 1d20 + 7 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 7 + 8 = 17

"Always in Absalom, but not always in this house. Poor Frederic, my late husband, left this house to me after he passed," Gilga says, drifting on some sort of reverie.

The cats hiss at Elross and scatter, but one walks up a few steps on the stairs and stares at him eerily.

Taking a calming breath and loosening his grip on the axe head, Elross whispers, "That's better."

"Timothy I presume?"
Simon says respectfully as he enters the room.

"You've got a formal tone to ya," the youth says without turning around. "Yeah, I'm Tim. What dya want? Can't be something good...least for Auntie Baltwin."

Aesantiel regards Gilga, allowing her revery to play out. Without diverting her attention from Gilga, Aesantiel notes the byplay with the cats, somewhat cautious of the possibility they might be more than they seem, and somewhat relieved that Elross did not unnecessarily provoke either the cats or Gilga through intemperate action.

Krygmar walks into the room behind Simon and smiles at the youths tone "We've come to check on your Auntie. See if she's a good person, looking after you kids alright. How are you and the other kids been treated?"

Cedrick walk up and offers to take the broom. Here, I’ll finish sweeping so you can talk to my friends.

Simon nods in thanks to Cedrick, and waits for the boy to respond to Krygmar.