As Mai Lin strides purposefully towards the textile shop, the proprietor comes bustling out to meet her. She is a plump, flowery-smelling woman with graying hair, and she is wearing a wide smile.
"Welcome, welcome! Please, please, do come in! I have some excellent silks, just imported, that I am sure you will love!"
She shoos away her calling boy and tries to usher Mai into the shop.
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Jace looks back to the rest of the people by the animals, a half-confused smile upon his face. With a little nod of his head, he traipses after the beautiful Tian woman into the shop.
Trusting to Mai's greater instincts and reading of people, Jace keeps his eyes mostly upon her. Then the pattern of a dark silk cloth takes his eye, the soft material draws the eye and absorbs the light. A finger gently brushes it's softness, the barest caress though through that he can tell it's luxurious softness. 'Here was I preaching against capitalism and all I can think is how she'd look in this!' he silently rebukes himself.
The building is stuffed with textiles of all kinds, from cotton and linen to silk and satin. It seems to specialize in simple bolts of cloth rather than in finished goods.
You entered through the door to the street; another unlocked door is at the back of the shop. There are a couple of windows, all too small for a normal person to fit through and quite dusty.
The shopkeeper smiles broadly as she enters her shop with you.
"My name's Misha Solstdat, and I'm happy to help you today! What can I show you? Bolts of fine red silks, perhaps?"
She seems eager to keep you distracted, but not malicious.
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With a polite bow of his head to the proprietor, he starts asking "Reds are stunning, but a trifle visceral for my taste. I am not sure, would it compliment a skin tone such as yourself?" he looks at the lady warmly. "A warm saffron or burnt umber. Whilst I am a wane olive." he shakes his head in faux-sorrow.
"I would think a deep-blues or strong greens could compliment it. Although he pauses, a pale pastel shade could work with a pattern, but I may not have the purse for such a fabric." He carefully examines the silk he saw earlier with a quizzical look in his eye.
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Once again, Passio is not concerned with the minutia, but rather the full sense of the scene. The bustle of activity, the movement of the crowd, this in itself was the essence of things, one of the philosophies of how the energy of magic formed and filled a region. A meditation centered on the noise abruptly ended when a loud horse whinny is heard behind him.
Passio turns to look as the rest of the party is more or less forced together by one massive mountain of horse. Passio only hears the conversation partially due to the noise around them, but gathers that Samara feels that the cavalier's stallion Turin has become skittish from something happening in a nearby store. Mai and Jace both seem to take this seriously.
Passio looks at the large animal wondering if it is as magical as some paladins' supernatural companions. The stallion's sense were pretty sharp. Of course, even when he had been learning from his mother and uncle how to harness his own power, they had always told him he wasn't very mindful of his surroundings.
Passio moves up next to Samara. "Well, pretty lady. I suppose we should make sure those two don't end up misunderstanding each other into a pickle now, shouldn't we?" He winks at her then walks into the store.
Why would a store have so much dust? Passio wonders to himself. Does no one come in here?
Having no sense of the moment, Passio walks up next to Jace and favors him and the proprietor with a winning smile. "Trying to outdo the subtle and clever pattern of my robes again, my friend?"
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Jace looks around to the boisterous, savvy man. "Oh no, how could I do that? I was thinking of a cut with more fitted but less grandeur. Something that draws the eye, whilst distracting the mind."
He looks back to the store-holder lady, "This would be suitable for a jacket lining? With matching waistcoat? What do you think? A heavy charcoal grey outer, cinched around the waist."
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Samara looks at Passio wide-eyed as she is addressed, dismounting from Turin and repeating, "Pretty lady?" A blush comes over her face and she covers her face with her hands to hide it. "Making fun is not a thing I appreciate!" cries Samara, speaking through smooshed lips because of the placement of her hands. She indeed follows after Passio once recovered, looking about and following his eyes.
"Cleaning is what they should do more of here," she whispers, making a bit of a face at the dusty windowsills. "Nobody has touched these."
Madame Solstdat bgins to pull a bolt of cloth from a rack, eyes gleaming, to show to Jace until she notices Mai moving towards the rear door.
"Oh no, dearie, that door just leads to the alley. Please, won't you look at this fine brocade your companion here has chosen particularly for his friend? It is a quite fine piece!"
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Mai chatters away in Tian as she proceeds directly to the door to open it and look through.
The shopkeeper makes a strangled peeping noise and drops the cloth at Jace's feet, rushing over to the opened back door anxiously. She pushes against Mai, trying to see past her, showing no comprehension of Mai's Tian babble.
The alleyway is as empty as an alley gets. Other shops's back doors are rowed down each side, all shut firm.
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Mai continues out the back door into the alley, looking around, waving her hands, and speaking urgently to the shopkeeper, still in Tian. She scans up and down the alley and along the rooftops trying to find anything out of place, and stalling for time so her friends can get a better look in the shop.
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Jaces breath catches as Mistress Solstdat moves away from him to Mai. 'So much for taking her attention, well 'tag - she's it'' He starts after the shops 'owner' but only to find that shes confronting the other Tian lady. Their words flow melodiously, but Jace understands naught.
Instead he sidles towards the counter, away from wherever any cash box is held - as that is obviously going to arouse suspiscion. Although if his gaze crosses it he will observe anything unusual about it.
Then he moves about the shop slightly just to ostensibly see if there is a tape, picking one up for a measure. 'Is this a front, or an observing post for something? A fence, maybe she sells on stolen goods.'
The agitated woman follows Mai out into the alley, still trying to herd her back into the store. "Oh no, miss, you're going to ruin your fine robe being out here in this filthy alley! Please, don't you speak Common? Come on back in; I shall make some tea for you and your friends while you look at my cloth!"
However, there isn't anything out of the ordinary in this alley.
The woman is quite obviously more concerned about getting you out of the alley and back into the store than anything else.
She is acting as if under some sort of strange influence.
Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
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Mai finds it odd that a shopkeeper is more interested in getting her out of the alley than in watching her till or tending to potential paying customers. Cocking her head curiously, she looks up at the woman with some confusion, gesturing around the alleyway.
She backs away from the shop door to the far side of the alley, talking and gesturing around as if describing where something should be built.
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Whilst looking around the shop, Jace seems to find nothing extraordinary. 'Could this be just a normal shop? What got Faerons' horse spooked? Could it be that short one again or a diversion.... well I am glad Corbyn is guarding the medicine. We don't have time to waste.'
Jace moves over to the shopkeeper; "Did an acquaintance of mine come in here? Just before us?" he queries innocently trying to fish for information rather than affording the situation too much patience.
"Did an acquaintance of mine come in here? Just before us?"
"Why, no, m'lord, no-one has graced me for hours until your company arrived," Madame Solstdat says as she follows Jace and Mai back into the shop. "Good! Now that we are out of that filthy alley, let me show you some of the finest . . ."
Corbyn pokes his head in the shops door:
"I think it's time we leave comrades, I don't like the people in this area."
Corbyn draws his Bastard Sword and rests it comfortably in front of him.
The shopkeeper squeals and falls to her knees when she spies the looming half-orc.
"No, m'lords, m'ladies, please! She TOLD me she'd kill me if I said anything! Please! It's not my fault! I didn't do anything!" she blubbers, obviously terrified.
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Jace takes a knee before the proprietress. He places a hand reassuringly upon her shoulder and the other underneath her chin gently tilting her face to his. Soft blue eyes meet hers; "It is alright. Tell what did she say?" his words tender. "It is important, you words can mean the difference between life and death."
He tries to invest his voice with a warm sincerity gleamed from years or tending to the dying. "Please, tell me!" But he comes off too aggressive, his squeeze too hard as he cannot keep an urgent catch from his voice.
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Mai's eyes go wide as the woman collapses and babbles. As Jace bends to try to reason with her, Mai slips out the door and resumes her post opposite Turin so they are surrounding Plod and his cargo.
Surely three people are enough to get some information from the storekeeper, if she has any. The rest of us can keep an eye out here.
She gives Faeron a shrug. "There was nothing in there, but the shopkeeper was shielding someone. Jace and Passio and Samara are trying to get more info from her. Turin did well!"
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Passio approaches the distraught woman and Jace where they kneel.
"Listen, listen, mother. We're of the Pathfinder Society. We are only here to bring help. You do not need to be frightened, we won't hurt you at all, and we bring much assistance. Whoever you fear will not be able to reach you." He smiles gently.
Unfortunately, sometimes the tempesta-nato experience moments of inconvenient discharge of static electricity. While completely harmless, the small bursts of energy produce some static noise. The shopkeeper hears this:
"Listen," *zzzt* "mother. We're of the Pathfinder...s," *crackle* "here to bring hel(l)," *snap* "You do," *zzzt* "need to be frightened," *spark, snap* "hurt you," *zzzt* "we bring," *crackle* "whoever you fear" *zzzzt* "to reach you."
An unfortunate flare up of Passio's Spark cantrip ignites a bolt of silk hanging near him, framing his face in fire and casting sinister shadows on his otherwise benign smile.
The woman pulls herself away from Jace, shrieking as Passio inadvertently lights a fire. She cowers away from the group, babbling hysterically.
"Please! I didn't do anything! Oh Sarenrae, save me! She comes in and buys dresses from me all the time! She was watching all of you, then when that horse went crazy she told me if I said anything she'd kill me and bolted out the back! I don't want to die! I don't want my store to burn down! WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?! JUST GET OUT!"
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Jaces eyes go slightly wild as he realises that he has frightened the woman half to death. Then out of the corner of his eye he sees the bolt of silk start to burn. He reaches out, jumping up abruptly before the lady and grabs the cloth throwing it to the floor. He then tries to smother it with his body.
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Mai hears the woman shout and darts back inside.
This is Lodge business! We have to be careful not to offend citizens!
She sees Jace rolling on the flaming silk while the woman cowers. Tossing a few gold to the poor shopkeeper, she tries to pull Jace and the fiery fabric outside where it's safer, saying to the shopkeeper only, "Sorry, sorry!"
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"Ummm..." says Samara, staring at all that is happening. This is so uncomfortable. I am so uncomfortable. She covers her face for a few moments as if trying to just hide from the world.
When that doesn't work, she then approaches the shopkeeper, speaking in soft tones. "Er, see, my friends did not mean to frighten you. That is not a thing they meant to do. We are from the Pathfinder Society, that is where we are from, and we will not bring harm."
Her eyes shift slightly and she presses on, obviously not wanting to. "We are sometimes having difficulty expressing ourselves. We can protect you, that is a thing that we are much much better at than expressing ourselves... Much much much better. But it would help us very much to know who would do us harm. And harm is not what we wish for you." She smiles awkwardly, obviously not accustomed to social situations.
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"I apologize, Mistress Samara"the tall elf almost instantly spoke to the startled elf who had gotten jostled by the grey warhorse's response. The massive horse nickered and turned to blow a puff of hot air against their legs after dropping back to all fours. Obedient to the kick he'd received from his master.
"It was a nice try, Turin."The cavalier murmured as he helped Mistress Samara down so she could follow the others into the building. Stormy grey eyes following before drifting back to the donkey that contained their package and the only other member to stay with them, Corbyn. A faint lift of his lips in a smile complete with shrug before Faeron went back to watching the people who moved past them. There were a lot more eyes on them after the rucks his horse had created. The taunt muscles under him showing that Turin still wasn't pleased at the break up of the group so a gauntled hand was lightly rested on the dappled hide.
"Easy friend, the ladies are in good company."he assured his long time companion. Otherwise alternating between watching Corbyn move to shout down the alley and any suspicious activity. Unfortunately, that seemed to mostly be coming from his own companions within the shop. Including the shouting of a female voice to get out. Turin's head lifted, ears perked forward, as he listened with clear interest to the things that were going on inside. The green-haired male shook his head and waited, they'd find out soon enough and one more person would only add to the confusion.
A few minutes later he received part of an answer as to what had been going on inside when the dark haired female came out with a burning cloth and Jace. Faeron sighed and reached back. Unhooking something from his saddle bag and unscewing it with a casual movement. A slight nudge of his foot set Turin a few steps forward and to the side so he could turn the canteen over and dump the contents on the flames as well as the male holding it.
"Things are going well I take it?"He drawled calmly, capping the canteen with a twist and a smile for the pair who had left the shop as he put it away.
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20
"We are sometimes having difficulty expressing ourselves. We can protect you, that is a thing that we are much much better at than expressing ourselves... Much much much better. But it would help us very much to know who would do us harm. And harm is not what we wish for you."
Madame Solstdat sniffs and wipes her face before picking up the gold coins Mai threw at her, then looks at Samara pleadingly.
"So, you people didn't mean to scare me half to death and nearly burn down my shop? What happens to people who you actually are attacking?"
She stands up, looking around at the group.
"Listen, I didn't tell you this, okay? Nia told me she'd kill me if I said anything, and even though she was always nice to me before, I believed her,because she always seemed kind of… weird, disturbing. I don't know what she wanted with you folks, honest!"
She eyes the back door, sidling away from it as she speaks.
"She's a sorceress, and she's always dressed in the finest dresses. Blonde, very pretty. Also, she's got six fingers on each hand, so she's not hard to miss if you run into her again."
She then wrings her hands, looking suddenly panicked.
"Oh no! Do you think she'll come back? Ohhhh! What should I do now?"
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"Sell her another dress naturally," Passio says with a shrug and a smile. He hopes this one is less frightening. "Just, uh, tell her the flame patterned silk isn't in style anymore." Passio winks. He places another gold coin in the shopkeeper's hand.
Then gently, he takes Samara's elbow and steers her out of the store. He whispers, "Whew! Thanks. You really have a way with words to go with that pretty face." Then he turns to the others.
"That wasn't so bad. We worked well as a team!" Passio beams at his fellow Pathfinders.
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Mai looks back at Passio with mild amazement. One eyelid twitches slightly. "Is all settled with the shopkeeper? Can we proceed now?" She hangs the nunchuks on her belt, unwraps the prayer beads from her wrist, and begins mumbling quiet prayers in Tian. She holds the strand of beads rather oddly, wrapped firmly around each hand.
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"I do not know what she wants with us, but finding out is a thing we will probably do," says Samara to madame Solstadt. She raises her eyebrows at the others (Mai and Passio in particular due to proximity) and says quietly, trying not to be overheard, "Ensuring this woman's safety is a thing that we should do, though! If we do not, rumours may spread, our claims to protection, worthless, and nobody will wish to help! Is there a place that she can go for safety?"
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"Samara, Samara. The woman will be fine. She has already told us that this Nia will be easy to spot. The shopkeeper needs only to tell the woman that we...purchased a bolt of...of..." Passio circles his hands as he tries to find the words. "...damaged goods," he concludes lamely.
"Chances are high this Nia will find us." Passio then mutters, "(If she exists.)" His voice returns to normal. "Along with the imaginary halfling you two spoke of earlier." Passio blinks as he hears himself. "Ah...I mean real halfling. Yes, in-the-flesh, as large (or small) as life - halfling." He grins at the two females hoping he saved the comment.
Passio has an embarrassed flush to his face. It's obvious that whatever happens, he really wants to put the store episode behind them as soon as possible.
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"The best thing we could do for Madame Solsdtat is to get far away from her store quickly and hope that the attention we've drawn brings her business from the curious. She will have a good story to tell and she has done nothing to endanger herself. If somebody was there, they made it away clean. The alley was empty when I went back there, and nobody was in the shop, Samara. I think we should go quickly. Very quickly. We have caused her enough trouble. Please, sister Samara."
Mai also looks rather embarrassed by, well, everything.
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Before they move on Jace nips back inside leaving a half-dozen gold coins upon a nearby table as as to not scare Miss Solsdtat any further. As he returns outside burnt remnants of silk in his hands, he looks to Mai then away form her ire.
Quickly striding back near to near the front humiliated by his incompetence, with a quick look to the silk if any could be salvageable as handkerchiefs or bandages. Then he stuffs the symbol of his failure into his backpack. 'Hmmm, lets see if we can do better at the orphanage! I don't know how we would do worse, without burning the city to the ground or random killings.'
After a few more steps he dwells; 'So she thinks me incompetent pompajay and I then prove it.' he shakes his head at the thought.
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Jace falls back to where Mai is; "I did not set fire to the lady's shop, her livelihood. I would not do that, my words were meant to soothe and help." he explains a slightly defiant tone to his words.
"I hope you will accept this truth, I try to act with honour and wish us to trust each other as team-mates." 'And perhaps something more?' his eyes nearly say. "Let us see if I can prove myself your equal, whilst we both improve our proficiencies." he looks to the lady in askance.
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Mai gives Jace a slight bow as they walk, face impassive. "I apologize if I accused you wrongly, brother. My knowledge of magic is slight. I was upset with my own failure and took it out on you. Upsetting shopkeepers is not something I planned to do as a Pathfinder. Still, you did not deserve my wrath." She sighs and fidgets with the wooden prayer beads for a moment, scanning the passers-by.
"We must all try to do better, I think, if we wish to become full-fledged Pathfinders. Perhaps Passio has the right of it. At least we acted as a team. Corbyn, Faeron, and Turin properly guarded the delivery while the rest of us tried to find the danger. We failed, for the most part, but now we know we have enemies for some reason - a halfling and a woman? This is not without value, Sir Jace. We still have the package we are to deliver. Though the store was upsetting, all is not lost."
Her brows knit in thought as she walks. "Besides, the shopkeeper may have done well by her own mercantile standards. I gave her three gold but have no idea of the value of the fabric. Material things should not matter so much." She rolls her eyes with a slight smile. "Can you imagine me in such frippery? How ridiculous."
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"Can you imagine me in such frippery? How ridiculous."
Until this statement Mai had been speaking in a low tone, obviously for Jace's ears only. This remark comes out perhaps a tad more indignant and so a bit louder, so Passio hears it clearly as they walk.
Slightly taken aback, Passio glances at Jace and laughs at the now distant look in his friend's eyes, as Jace is most assuredly doing exactly what Mai thinks is ridiculous.
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Mai glances at Passio in surprise at his laughs, then looks closely at Jace, obviously reading his thoughts without trouble. She shakes her head in dismay. "Gentlemen, that was neither a challenge nor an invitation!"
She glances back to Passio, eyebrows raised. "So it was you who set the fire, and poor Jace who tried to put it out, getting drenched and scolded in the process? And that poor shopkeeper... no wonder she screamed."
She struggles a moment, then finally cracks a smile and chuckles. "What a mess! I wonder if this happens to all heroes and they simply have good editors?"
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A blush suffuses his features and he reaches a hand up to scratch the back of his head.
"Ah...well, I think the fire probably started because of me. Jace may have a been a little quick to jump on it. Silk usually burns fast and I doubt the fire would have spread." He glances away from Mai sheepishly.
Then a joyful smile appears and his attitude shifts as if he had not been put out whatsoever. He reaches out and pats Samara's hand in a friendly way where she sits on the great horse Turin.
"But at least we know who to call on whenever we need to charm the populace, eh?" His eyes sparkle with admiration as he looks up at the snow-haired elf.
Looking back at Mai and Jace, he winks slyly. "And my dear Mai, if you won't wear such 'frippery', you'll never be any good when we have to blend in doing missions in foreign lands. And I just know we'll all be together for more exciting adventures after these goodwill tasks."
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Mai is aghast at the thought. "Surely not. Surely once we become full Pathfinders, we will be sent on our own missions. And I do not need to blend in. This is a foreign land and I am fine here, fine like this." Her fingers dance across the prayer beads as she considers her simple robes and sandals doubtfully. "These are the best robes to fight in if it comes to that. They are perfect."
A tiny note of what might be hysteria creeps into her voice.
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"I like your robes. They are simple. Simple is good. They look okay. But not so good that everyone will stare. But still good." decides Samara, giving a slight and confused tilt of her head at Passio patting her hand. She shakes her head in a quick, nervous and fidgety way and adds, "No, no, no, I do not like to speak to people so much! It is a thing that makes my heart beat too fast..."