"Mort, why don't you and Sol sell off our weapons and armor while you're there - and check on any new stuff you might want in the same vein."
"Meanwhile, Tynan and I will sell of the remaining stuff around town. We should meet for lunch in a couple hours or so to discuss what to do next. I expect we'll want to see Allustan tomorrow, see what he's got for us. Maybe he can help me identify these last few items too if I don't manage it in the morning."
If that's agreeable to everyone, Ascaria will lead Tynan on a romp around town selling the last of the loot and divvying up the proceeds into equal pouches. Bags of loot to distribute at dinner.
"Mort, why don't you and Sol sell off our weapons and armor while you're there - and check on any new stuff you might want in the same vein."
Mortimer balks, then nods. "Ok, Ascaria. I'll do my best." Mortimer follows Sol back to her apartment and waits outside until she is ready.
"Mort, why don't you and Sol sell off our weapons and armor while you're there - and check on any new stuff you might want in the same vein."
"I could do all the adjustments myself. You could change at your place, and we can take the armor to the Smithy and see who's up and about now for the measuring, if you like."
Solrisa smiles first at Ascaria, then at Mort.
"Oh, that sounds fine. This will be a lot of fun. I do like buying and selling things," Sol says earnestly. "Then we can work on fixing my armor. Oh Mort, this will be fun." Sol doesn't even say "even if Rae isn't here to help." She doesn't say it because it is unsaid.
Sol goes to get her armor fit and goods sold. She also ponders what she might like to buy with all her new coin. She knows The Dragon wants her here, but to do what? How might she prepare?
Tynan accompanies Ascaria to his various contacts around town.
"Do you know of anyone who might have enchanted weaponry for sale? We need to be prepared should we encounter more of those ghostly creatures..."
When they near the gaming house, he guides the gnome in that direction.
"We should let Lazare know what we've discovered. Perhaps he might have some insights for us."
As Solrisa and Mortimer find their way to Osgood's, on Sunday, day of rest, day of recuperation, you find it relatively quiet this late morning. You practically have the run of the place, until folks start showing up from their attendance at church, roughly an hour later.
The sidedoor opens, with the rattle of a key, and Esobel strides in, giggling. Shortly thereafter, Osgood himself crosses the threshold, looking about, aware. When she and he lay eyes on the both of you, they look at each other with a momentary look of dismay that turns into a knowing smile shared between the two of them. Esobel speaks to Osgood. "The best laid plans, eh, Manlin?" She winks at him, and bounds up the stairs.
Osgood drapes his cloak over the counter, and looks to the two of you. "Well, Mortimer, what keeps you about on a Sunday? Don't you have better things to do with your time?"
Dannath greets you at the door, a questioning look lightly passing across her face, as Tynan, then Ascaria, enters the House. When Tynan explains his purpose, she calls to Lazare from the door, and bids you enter. Lazare emerges from his office with Pillette, who appears to be clutching a scrollcase with white knuckles. She excuses herself politely from Lazare, and hurries out the door, baring giving you both a look. Lazare shakes his head, before welcoming you into the office. He bids you sit, and once comfortable, listens fully to your accounting, much of which he is quite ignorant. He looks completely taken aback by the information regarding a cult, of all things. He takes it all in, including the sudden change in dynamic within your group regarding Raella and Pillette.
Ellival Moonmeadow, Silver Mine Manager, is known to collect magical items, as well.
Knowledge Local, take-10: 10+6 = 16
Ascaria heads to lunch and waits for the others to arrive. When they do so, he doles out the pouches.
"There's not too much we can get around here, but I know of someone at the Silver Mine who might be able to help us with larger purchases."
"I suggest we go see Allustan after lunch. We might be a little early, but it's worth a shot. If he's not there, he's not there. Then we head to the Silver Mine and see what can be done. Oh, and I'll need to go to the Asmodean church to pick up a few things. Maybe after that."
He munches on a bit of chicken.
"If I can ask, where is Pillette going? We'll likely need her assistance in tracking down the priestess."
"Well, Mortimer, what keeps you about on a Sunday? Don't you have better things to do with your time?"
Sol springs up to re-greet Osgood.
"Oh! Mr. Osgood! Look, I have new armor!" Sol spins, showing off the fancy full plate that doesn't quite fit right. "Mort said he would help me get it fit properly! That so nice of him."
Sol beams at Osgood, then at Mort, quite happy to be helped.
"We may also have some things to sell and other things to buy, but I'll let Mort explain that. Right now, my chest is a bit squooshy in this armor."
My hands. Magic. Magic hits. Magic magic magic! Magic hitting hands! Maybe I need a magic hitting blade! OOOH! Oh -- I wonder -- is the magic gonna rub off onto the armor as I make the alterations?
He looks at Sol. Oh. She's great in a scrap, but I'm glad we found armor she can use.
The sidedoor opens, with the rattle of a key, and Esobel strides in, giggling. Shortly thereafter, Osgood himself crosses the threshold, looking about, aware.
Have they been... to church?!
[they look at each other with a momentary look of dismay that turns into a knowing smile shared between the two of them. Esobel speaks to Osgood.]"The best laid plans, eh, Manlin?"
He watches Esobel bound up the stairs.
"Well, Mortimer, what keeps you about on a Sunday? Don't you have better things to do with your time?""We may also have some things to sell and other things to buy, but I'll let Mort explain that. Right now, my chest is a bit squooshy in this armor."
The couple's odd interaction is enough distraction for Mortimer, and for the moment he barely notices Sol's busty expression.
"Hold on Solrisa," he says, reaching out to her as she is in mid spin. "What's that mean? -- 'The best laid plans'?"
He watches Manlin's demeanor and listens carefully to the reply.
Manlin looks at Mortimer as he questions expressions. "Oh, I don't know, Mortimer. I suppose you'll have to ask Esobel, now, won't you?"
He turns back to Solrisa, hearing her out, before turning back to Mortimer. "Sounds like you're bringing us business. Show me what you have, and let's be done with it. You really should get out and enjoy yourselves, seeing as how we've got a decent order from the garrison, starts tomorrow." Osgood looks over what he can purchase, putting aside some of the nicer weapons, out of respect to Tyrol Ebberly. He excuses himself, heading into his office. When he returns, he has proper payment for the items provided him.
"Of course, you'll be able to use the smithy if you want to rework her armor. You can cast her in clay if you want the work to be more tailored. Can't imagine Wyon wouldn't want in on that work."
"If I can ask, where is Pillette going? We'll likely need her assistance in tracking down the priestess."
Lazare nods, clapping his hands together in front of himself. "You'll need to ask Balabar Smenk for her assistance, to be honest. I believe he's contracted her. As for the cult, I'd imagine you'll need to report it to the authorities, no? Yes, that needs to be done as soon as possible. I only wonder who that is, at present."
"Of course, you'll be able to use the smithy if you want to rework her armor. You can cast her in clay if you want the work to be more tailored. Can't imagine Wyon wouldn't want in on that work."
Mortimer glances up the stairs where Esobel departed, then down the stairs, where Aesur sleeps
Uh, no. No, no. This is too good to be true, right? Something stinks. These forges... are weird ... anyway.
Mortimer gathers the armor, and turns to Solrisa. "Let's go -- now. We'll look into this later. Alter." He raises a compromised eyebrow. "Later."
He starts to head back out the door with the armor.
Tynan gives a curious look at the revelation that Pillette has been contracted by Smenk, but questions it no further.
"Yes... we do need to determine who to report the cult's activities to. It will make for a lively lunch conversation, no doubt."
"Oh, okay, Mort," Sols says. "We can alter this later, I suppose. Did we want to do our sales here now?"
Sol leaves with Mort.
"Why don't we do this now? Are you no feeling well?"
"Why don't we do this now? Are you no feeling well?"
Mortimer stops abruptly and grabs the back of his head. "It would seem not, Sol, but no -- I'm fine. I -- I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me." He winces. The very thought of Wyon around for this, is what. Get yourself together, Mort!!!
Calming down and regaining some of his composure, he gently turns to her. "Let's go back -- I should work on your armor now." He so much as breathes in her direction and I'll ... He derails himself from the thought in an effort to focus on the present issue. "Uh, did you want to change into something else at your place, or -- I -- we can find something up in my room here at the Smithy for you to -- change into," he stammers. " We'll take the measurements, I'll work on the alterations. This shouldn't need clay, but we can use it if you want, but I think there should be some room for -- you know for -- uh ... the cushioning..." He trails off, and turns away blushing.
"Oh, I have my old armor with me. I can switch into that. It should still fit," Sol remarks cheerily, but she's not worry about appearing in her skivvies. "You're confusing me, but maybe this is how the armor does business?"
Sol smiles and returns, happy to undress and redress.
"Oh, I have my old armor with me. I can switch into that. It should still fit. You're confusing me, but maybe this is how the armor does business?"
"I'm sorry about that. It's how I do it. I could do so much better elsewhere, but we'll have to make do with what we have here now."
Mort dons his "strictly business" face and takes her to his room in Osgoods.
"I will have to measure you in between the uh, changing into the armor bits."
As soon as she's down to her skivvies -- he (still wearing his business face) measures inseams, busts, waist, hips, shoulder points, outer seams and arm lengths inside and out, writing down each measurement carefully. Just to be thorough, he has her hold out her arms in various different angles and remeasures her bust each time, and records that data.
" -- O.K., I think I got everything. Thanks for being so patient." He leaves her to dress into her old armor as he studies the measurements and marks the armor. Once it is prepared, he begins the alterations.
for
Once he sits down and looks at things, Mortimer realizes that he just doesn't have the skill yet to handle something as complex as full plate.
He shells out 400 gp, and turns the alteration job over to Manlin and Aesur.
Turning to Sol and says, "Let's head off to lunch and join the others."
The Hungry Gar is in full swing, with Church letting out, and the lunch hour being quite popular off Memorial Square. So much so, you find yourselves collecting at the entrance, standing and waiting, before you are seated as a group. Fortunately, the four of you can access one of the majority of tables that seats only four, sooner than several larger families. Quite a day!
Berta brings out family portions of green beans, mashed potatoes with bits of bacon, meatloaf, and bitter greens. She inquires whether the table wants wine, grapefruit juice, or sage water.
"There's not too much we can get around here, but I know of someone at the Silver Mine who might be able to help us with larger purchases."
"I suggest we go see Allustan after lunch. We might be a little early, but it's worth a shot. If he's not there, he's not there. Then we head to the Silver Mine and see what can be done. Oh, and I'll need to go to the Asmodean church to pick up a few things. Maybe after that."
He munches on a bit of chicken.
I thought it would be quieter... damn church goers.
"Oh, and we should also notify Smenk, and the law, about what's going on. Probably in that order 'cause maybe Smenk will do it for us."
He doodles on the underside of the table with a bit of chalk.
When Mort attempts to pay, Sol breaks out her coin-purse and pays. If Mort insists, Sol politely insists right back. She would explain (with a sincere smile) that she could pay for her own armaments (she wasn't her sister, after all).
"Oh, that was fun, Mort! Thank you so much," Sols says, walking out with Mort. "Now what? I think we're supposed to sell our other gear."
* * *@Lunch* * *
Sol orders a big lunch. She does not worry about her weight, but only appeasing her growly stomach. She takes the full measure of meatloaf and the greens, and eats happily. She only once or twice looks to the front door to see if her sister is coming in. That makes her frown and shake her head briefly, but then she re-dedicates herself to her food.
"Ascaria, what do you think The Dragon wants of me here?" Sol asks, still puzzling over a question that had been building for hours.
She would explain (with a sincere smile) that she could pay for her own armaments.
"I know that, Sol." I think. What was that about Rae? "It's just -- I said I would do it, and how I do it. That didn't quite work out the way I wanted, so I wanted to help. Can I at least contribute some monetary aspect here? I just feel I might have mislead you otherwise."
Mortimer looks about the crowded Hungry Gar with some curiosity.
"Gee, I remember the first time we came here -- was it Sunday evening? It was empty. They sat us up over there -- by the window. I'm glad this place is doing well -- it's a nice place." He looks up at Berta. "Grapefruit juice please. OH! And, uh -- do you have any of those little red radishes?" he asks with pleading puppy dog eyes.
He helps himself to a healthy pile of greenbeans, then adds ample portions of everything else.
"I suggest we go see Allustan after lunch. We might be a little early, but it's worth a shot. If he's not there, he's not there. Then we head to the Silver Mine owner's residence and see what can be done. Oh, and I'll need to go to the Asmodean church to pick up a few things. Maybe after that."
Mortimer nods, his face full of meatloaf. "That shounds good," he says between chews, not actually caring about the order in Which to do Things, but just insanely happy to finally be saited with food.
He continues to greedily dive into his food, putting aside other concerns about the Smithy -- and other things -- for the moment.
"Ascaria, what do you think The Dragon wants of me here?" Sol asks, still puzzling over a question that had been building for hours.
The question stops Ascaria in his tracks. What is our next move?
"That's a good question Sol. And I don't have the answer for you quite yet. I've been thinking about what we need to do with all this stuff we found, but you're right - there is a larger picture here."
"I think we go see Smenk. Let him know what's going on here, what we found, more or less, and see if he has any suggestions. I dunno, maybe with the retelling of the story, something will become clearer to us too."
"Then we see about these other things. I have purchases that can't be made here, so we need to consider that too. Egorian is three days by horse, so maybe that's an option if we get stuck."
He shovels more potato into his maw.
"Can I at least contribute some monetary aspect here? I just feel I might have mislead you otherwise."
Sol smiles, appreciating the bigger man's attempts to be the bigger man. She acquiesces.
"Oh, okay, Mort!" Sol beams. "How about we do halfsies-paysies then? And maybe sometime I'll get to pay half of something for you!? That'll be fun, right?"
Sol just knows that Mort is going to agree with this. She just knows it.
* * *
"I think we go see Smenk. Let him know what's going on here, what we found, more or less, and see if he has any suggestions. I dunno, maybe with the retelling of the story, something will become clearer to us too."
Sol smiles, wishing her sister were her. She would know what to do. It would probably involve yelling or breaking something, but Rae would be doing it.
"Yes, you're right, Ascaria. It'll come to us. I just know it will," Sol says, cheerily joining Ascaria in shoveling food around.
"This is good, Ascaria. As it turns out, hurting bad people makes one hungry, huh?"
Sol eats.
Tynan fills a plate with green beans, potatoes and a thick slice of meatloaf, relishing the hot meal rather than the rations of the past several days. He makes quick work of his food, then leans back to keep an eye on the other patrons of the Gar.
At the mention of Smenk, Tynan leans forward to speak to the others.
"According to Lazare, Pillette's contract has been obtained by Smenk. It's likely she won't be joining us in... whatever lies ahead." Tynan looks over at Sol, knowing Rae's departure still weighs heavily on her. "Our small group just keeps getting smaller. We'll need to be more cautious than ever."
Tynan pushes his plate away, shakes his head, and resumes his study of the crowd.
We need to be ready for anything...
"How about we do halfsies-paysies then? And maybe sometime I'll get to pay half of something for you!? That'll be fun, right?"
I -- I just wanted to do this for you, but -- I'm not good enough yet. "Sure, Sol, sure," he agrees.
"Ascaria, what do you think The Dragon wants of me here?"
To help free Him from exile.
"That's a good question Sol. And I don't have the answer for you quite yet."
Well, there's that whole rift thing.
"Yes, you're right, Ascaria. It'll come to us. I just know it will,"
"Blatherblahtherblather..."
Mort stops eating and looks at everyone.
The Rift!
"Remember the bas-reiief Did it not speak of some tear in the sky through which a warrior and drider fell?" He turns to Ascaria. "Do you still have the Faceless One's Letter to Thedrick? Did it not also refer to a rift through which people are sent? Is it still out there? Are they the same rift, or is it just a coincidence? I wonder what it is -- what's out there!?" He pauses to breathe. "We should see Smenk soon, and then we should check in with Allustan."
Ascaria doesn't like the sound of a 'rift' through which undead pour. He begins to consider future abilities to counter such things...
"I agree. Smenk, then Allustan, then we'll see."
Ascaria munches on some meatloaf and continues to draw on the underside of the table when he touches something… his hand goes numb, and he drops his chalk. He drops down off his chair and goes to grab it.
Ascaria picks up his chalk absently as he stares at the thing. He can’t quite make it out, but it vaguely reminds him of that part of his brain that processes the written language into the universal conceptual meanings, suddenly try to force themselves, psychically, through his mind to deeper, untapped places. He shakes his head.
Ascaria climbs back into his chair and looks around at the party. Watching them all eat and chat, he sets his chalk down on the edge of the table. Looking nervously below it, he bumps his chalk, and it drops to the floor again. He looks at his companions and drops back down below the table.
Ascaria, a little excited but not talking, returns to the table. ”Shall we go?” he seems eager to move on.
Solrisa's eyes open as Mortimer offers his theory. She looks at Tynan and Ascaria for their reactions. She just doesn't know enough to agree or disagree or offer another opinion.
"That is interesting, but aren't rifts somewhat common? We can't assume they are the rift, can we? Or maybe we can," Solrisa chews on her meatloaf and thinks.
"And maybe that's why The Dragon wants me here. To help stop the unified god thingy from happening. And stomping worms. I like stomping worms. And stopping undead. Maybe that's it."
Sol eats more and is ready to go when Ascaria suggests.
"That is interesting, but aren't rifts somewhat common?"
Are they? I don't know. Did I fall through one? Is that how I got here? Mortimer shrugs.
Too bad about Pillette. None of us are as good at negotiating. Put together we don't have that much talent. Can we make do?
Out of the corner of his daydreaming eye, Mortimer catches a glimpse of the gnome -- apparently faltering with his chalk.
He looks at his companions and drops back down below the table. Ascaria, a little excited but not talking, returns to the table."Shall we go?"
Raising a compromised eyebrow, Mort asks "Sure, but -- what's the matter, Canary? Is the chalk rebelling? Is everything O.K. ?!" He carefully scoots out his chair to take a look under the table.
"Yeah, Mort, everything's fine. Just in a hurry." Ascaria looks OK, but he's agitated.
The gnome returns to the table, but something feels off. His clouded eyes appear to be looking at something at the back of his mind, rather than look at you directly.
It's a single-colored chalk sketch, done blindly, but it's painfully symmetric. Several lines curve in parallel, and the spirals are more uniform than one would think, done upside-down.
Crossing Memorial Square, those who look over at the Feral Dog are greeted by Todrik and Rastophan, talking with each other, as they smoke a couple of rolled cigarillos. Rastophan doesn't move, his smoke-tinted glasses concealing his direct gaze, but Todrik points at each of you absently, muttering something to his mate.
"There's only four of them. Should be easier now."
Deputy Jamis stands in the doorway of the Sheriff's office, overseeing the Square as well. He nods to you all as you pass, on your way to Smenk's residence. Exiting the Square somewhat to the southwest , you pass several smaller homes, of moderate means. The way up to Smenk's is quite visible to anyone from the manor's east and south faces.
Using the knocker on the front door, it's a matter of time, before the albino half-orc Kullen meets you on the frontstep. He snorts, and motions you to enter wordlessly. He walks down a dark hallway off the main foyer, where you are bid enter. It's a quiet study, with several bookshelves covering all walls, as well as grand blackwood desk that sits at the opposite end of the room, where a second door stands. The half-orc invites you all to sit, then closes the door behind you.
Minutes later, Smenk slips into the room from behind the desk, wearing a silk shirt and pajama pants. He licks his fingers, before sitting at his desk. He wipes his hands on a handkerchief he produces, then sits up straight and smiles at you.
"You're missing someone. I only hope that's intentional. How are you all? How did things unfold over at the Dourstone Mine? Please, tell me everything."
"Yeah, Mort, everything's fine. Just in a hurry."
"Whoa! Ascaria!! Astounding! How did you do that without looking and from underneath? Come -- everyone -- look at what he drew here! What does it mean?"
Unconvinced, his compromised eyebrow still raised, and wondering why the gnome hasn't moved yet Mortimer says, "A hurry? Really?" he looks at the exit, then points to it looking back at the gnome. "Because the exit is right over there. Were we going? Why do you look anxious, Ascaria -- What's this all about?"
~~~~
Using the knocker on the front door, it's a matter of time, before the albino half-orc Kullen meets you on the frontstep.
Is this the guy who hit you Ascaria? Dang. Even if it was, I can't do anything about it here.
Mortimer glares at the half-orc and reluctantly follows him. He ignores Kullen's offer to sit, preferring instead to quietly brood while standing in a dark corner against the wall."You're missing someone. I only hope that's intentional. How are you all? How did things unfold over at the Dourstone Mine? Please, tell me everything."
'Someone'?! Jerk. Yah, Rae left us, but he knows about Pillette already?
He waits for someone else -- anyone -- who is better at story telling than he is to address Smenk's question.
Ascaria looks up at Mort, eye to eye, or at least eye to navel and says, "Maybe later Mort, OK?"
He scampers for the door and out.
- - -
”Well, Smenk sir, we went down into the mines, just like you said, and we found a cult, just like you said, and we wiped them out, just like we said.” He smiles. "And we didn't lose anyone."
”The Ebon Triad is no more - at least that particular group. We found evidence there might be more of ‘em around - some out of Egorian - but we took out this lot. You’re timing couldn’t have been better too - we found a letter wherein they decided it was time to take you out. You had apparently out lived your usefulness to them. A few more days, and maybe you’d not have hired us to go - you’d be dead.”
Ascaria meanders around the story as his mind wanders around their time underground. He starts with the birdmen and their calls, then drifts to the early fighting, then talks about the last fight with the weird creatures who flanked-in-place. Finally he talks about how they snuck in and out without really being noticed. At least by the law.
He even pulls out a few drawings to support the story, when applicable, though he has less art than he would like to remember the trip.
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Sense Motive
Sol smiles at Ascara, no doubt sharing exactly what the gnome feels inside.
He like puppies as well, probably. And misses Rae too.
* * *
Sol listens as Ascaria speaks, offering a few happy smiles of agreement.
Tynan notes that something is off with Ascaria, but let's him lead the way to Smenk's.
Just keep on thinking that Todrik...
------
Tynan let's Ascaria relate the story, nodding in agreement as the story progresses.
I still don't trust this guy...
Smenk listens very eagerly to Ascaria's tale. He holds onto the handkerchief, occasionally dabbing at the corner of his mouth, drying a slight run of saliva. He pats his meaty hands happily, holding up a finger, while he pulls a drawer and retrieves four pouches. He stands, and tosses them across the room to land on the floor.
"That is wonderful. Simply wonderful. I hope that is enough." He points to the pouches on the floor.
"Of course, whatever you may have come across down there is yours to keep, rest assured. Did you keep the papers? That should help me bring the case to Governor-Mayor Neff and Sheriff Cubbin. This is a blessed day!" He clasps his hands expectantly, and looks to you all.
"You're not worried there might be more of them? And they might still make good on their threats to kill you?"
Ascaria collects his pouch and wonders at the confidence of Smenk.
"That is wonderful. Simply wonderful. I hope that is enough."
Mortimer watches as Smenk flings four bags of gold to the floor.
Shrewd. There should be six. We didn't do it alone. His own life to him isn't even worth six little bags of gold. Loathsome."Did you keep the papers? That should help me bring the case to Governor-Mayor Neff and Sheriff Cubbin. This is a blessed day!"
"NO! - I mean -- " Mortimer suddenly shrieks, surprising himself. "-- I mean we did keep them, but we're not quite done with them yet. You'll get them when we're done with them in a day or so. Then you can do whatever you like with them."
Solrisa collects her pouch as well. She smiles and thanks Smenk.
"Yes, if you need anyone to protect you, let me now. I'm very good at protecting."
Tynan gives Smenk a scowl as he walks over to pick up his pouch from the floor.
"So, what bonus have you offered your men for when they attack us later?"
Smenk's face slowly turns from expectation, to disappointment, to confusion.
"You're not worried there might be more of them? And they might still make good on their threats to kill you?"
"I'm much less worried, as I trust what you've told me. It sounds like you very much decimated their numbers. I feel much more secure. The sense I got was that this cult was secluded here for a reason. I was their outside connection, albeit unwilling, remember?"
"NO! - I mean -- I mean we did keep them, but we're not quite done with them yet. You'll get them when we're done with them in a day or so. Then you can do whatever you like with them."
Smenk frowns. "Why would you need them further? Allow me to convey them to the authorities myself. This should no longer trouble you."
"Yes, if you need anyone to protect you, let me now. I'm very good at protecting."
Smenk smiles. "I have no need of that. But you are lovely to offer your services."
"So, what bonus have you offered your men for when they attack us later?"
Smenk frowns, in confusion. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I have my men attack you later? Why would you say that?"
Tynan eyes Smenk as he cycles through answers.
"Why would I say that? Maybe because they were standing on the street, talking about how much easier it would be, now that there are only four of us. Rastophan and Todrick do answer to you, don't they?"
Solrisa looks at Smenk, then at Tynan, and then again at Smenk.
"There were other people on the street? I completely missed them! Wow! You have good eyes, Tynan!"
His initial question to you seems sincere.
"Why would I say that? Maybe because they were standing on the street, talking about how much easier it would be, now that there are only four of us. Rastophan and Todrik do answer to you, don't they?"
Smenk looks on in discomfort. "I am not privileged to their inner circle dynamics, Tynan. They do answer to me, for the work they provide me, but they are not wholly indebted to me. They have their own desires, I'm sure. I will say, they were not as trusting of you as I was in sending you into Dourstone. Perhaps they grow jealous."
Smenk sits back down, and places his hands on the table.
"I'm much less worried, as I trust what you've told me. It sounds like you very much decimated their numbers. I feel much more secure."
Can anyone actually be as dumb as this guy sounds?
"I was their outside connection, albeit unwilling, remember?"
Pillette, why were you taken away? Fine. I'll take a shot.
Mortimer steps out of the shadow."Perhaps, but the only evidence we have supporting that is your own word. You might not have exactly have been willing -- but you know more than you're saying. Given the backstabbing nature of the cult leaders we encountered, I sure hope you can be rational enough to understand our need to be wary," he says, gesturing at his companions at the last part of his statement. "No, I think we'll hold on to the Papers, and unless anyone else has anything to add -- I think we'll be taking our leave for now."
"Well, what are you going to do about this situation? Any attacks on us could only be construed as having your blessing."
Tynan cocks his head to one side, and stares at Smenk.
"We've worked well together so far, haven't we? Perhaps it would be... prudent... of you to find them something ELSE to occupy their time, other than us. It really is best for everyone involved. Wouldn't you agree?"
Smenk looks from Mortimer to Tynan. "Well, until Mortimer decided to withhold evidence I could use to help bring Ragnolin to justice, I thought so, too, Tynan." Smenk stands, ringing a bell on his desk. Moments later, Kullen appears behind you all, opening the door you entered.
"Kullen will see you out."
Solrisa looks at Tynan.
"Was it Todrik? Was it him that seemed to threaten Mort? I told him he shouldn't do that," Solrisa says.
She turns to Smenk.
"Just so you know...and maybe you should remind your friends, that if they try to hurt Mort, I'll be protecting him. And I'm very good at protecting," Solrisa says with a confident smile. "If I find out you were part of it," Sol says, "and I will ask them before I give them The Dragon's mercy, I'll come back for you too."
Sol smiles cheerily at Smenk.
Well that went south in a hurry...
Ascaria watches everyone get into a huff. Eventually, in the quiet before Kullen arrives, he speaks.
"Smenk, sir, we just want to hold onto the documents a little longer. A day - tops. We found a key to their code and want to check it against some other things we found first. When we're done, and have resolved our puzzles, we'll be done with it. OK?"
He turns to Mort, "OK?"
"So call off your men, so we don't have to trounce them again and make us all look bad."
Smenk stands in his doorway, behind him, a darkened bedroom.
"Are you threatening me, Solrisa? Your words sound very much like a threat to me. I hope, for your sake, that it's not. I would certainly not want any of my friends to come to harm, certainly. Who would? I highly doubt you'll find out anything more than what you hear now." Smenk does not return Solrisa's smile.
"Smenk, sir, we just want to hold onto the documents a little longer. A day - tops. We found a key to their code and want to check it against some other things we found first. When we're done, and have resolved our puzzles, we'll be done with it. OK? So call off your men, so we don't have to trounce them again and make us all look bad."
Smenk's gaze is broken from the maiden, and it turns towards the gnome.
"'A day', then. A gnome of his word, I'm sure. You speak with your men, and I'll speak with mine. Good day."
...
The walk up to Allustan's residence proves uneventful. The most direct way being the western branch of the Vein, you pass the citizens of Diamond Lake coming and going, in ignorance of all that has occurred this last day.
Arriving at the old man's residence, the Frog is first to speak. "BEEEEOOOORRROOOOCCCAAAA. For the last time, I do not wish you to cut my grass, buy your milk, or marry your daughter. Good Day. BEEEEOOOORRRROOOOCCCCAAAAA."
Knocking at the door, this time, you are met promptly, as Allustan peers out from within a smoky interior, smelling of roses and burnt pine. "Don't dawdle. Enter quickly. Come now, hurry up." Allustan closes the door behind you with a curt thud.
You are escorted into the private study once again, Mortimer ducking to avoid a forehead thud of his own. Somehow, this recluse's study is much more inviting than Smenk's. It looks as if he's moved nothing in this room since your last visit with him, so each person finds their own nook among nooks. Allustan reaches for his glasses, donning them, and standing over several, ancient books. He pats them gently, almost lovingly, then turns to you all with a brief start, as if he recently forgot you were still there.
"Oh, there is much to discuss, so much. Where to begin? I hope you already ate. I finished lunch, but I only prepared enough bisque for myself, and for myself tomorrow. Very sorry, well, no, not really, but you'll need to find a meal elsewhere. I can wait."
"Just so you know...and maybe you should remind your friends, that if they try to hurt Mort, I'll be protecting him. And I'm very good at protecting," Solrisa says with a confident smile.
"Are you threatening me, Solrisa? Your words sound very much like a threat to me. I hope, for your sake, that it's not. I would certainly not want any of my friends to come to harm, certainly. Who would? I highly doubt you'll find out anything more than what you hear now." Smenk does not return Solrisa's smile.
Mortimer nods in agreement with Solrisa. "Actually, that's no lie. She's really good at protecting every one of us. So -- if there's no need for her to feel like she needs to be protecting us from anyone, then there's no need to feel threatened by any of us. If you like, go explain that to Todrick and the others right now -- just so everyone has the same understanding."
"If I find out you were part of it," Sol says, "and I will ask them before I give them The Dragon's mercy, I'll come back for you too."
Mortimer grins. "... and that's no lie either."
~~~~
"BEEEEOOOORRROOOOCCCAAAA. For the last time, I do not wish you to cut my grass, buy your milk, or marry your daughter. Good Day. BEEEEOOOORRRROOOOCCCCAAAAA."
"Oh, there is much to discuss, so much. Where to begin? I hope you already ate. I finished lunch, but I only prepared enough bisque for myself, and for myself tomorrow. Very sorry, well, no, not really, but you'll need to find a meal elsewhere. I can wait."
Good grief...
Mortimer puts on his best Diplomacy Face, trying to take a cue from his limited experience with Pillette. "Sir, we have eaten already, but we very much appreciate the offer. Please take your time in starting."
Solrisa enters, following Mort and Tynan. She sits and smiles and offers encouraging nods as others explain things. She adds color when she can and does not tear up when Rae's contributions (and departure) are mentioned.