With the captain heading off to continue his investigation you all head into Whiskeyjack's room in order to plot your next moves.
When the party is alone, Wren will gab and gab and *gab* about what she knows of vampires . She will blather and repeat and blather some more about her worries about vampires.
”...and if we had any decent monies, we’ll invest in some magical protections, and silver. And maybe some garlic and mirrors, too.”.
Wren flutters and flusters over their discovery.
”But mostly, we need to figure out who kilt those vampire outside in hopes that they might know more of what we seek.”
Again, anyway to use the powers of Whiskeyjack or anyone else here to locate more of these stakes. The holder of these stakes - is probably the person who is killing vampires.
Bronin offers up that suggestion.
Elena seems to calm down. "I like that idea." She wipes her hands down her night gown smoothing out the wrinkles. "I can see if they need help down in the pub serving. Might hear a thing or two." She looks around for thoughts.
Sounds good, but everyone has to admit that the thrill of this mystery is pretty great. Don't you all feel that it's important to the city?
Yes, I am focused on The Whispering Way, but Vampires on the roof of OUR Hotel.... is not a coincidence.
He waits for others thoughts and opinions. He also wonders again if anyone has a Locate Object spell.
****
Great idea VestalLena. Picking up scuttlebutt is a great way to go.
Adder shrugs.
"Is maybe coincidence, maybe is not. I think we must continue to hunt the Whispering Way. Someone else is hunting vampires, and I do not interfere in the hunt of others."
Wren doesn’t understand why the others wouldn’t want to find those who kilt the current vampires, as they might have more information about where they might live or be, but Wren just shrugs. Sometimes fools will be foolish.
She waits to see what information others turn up.
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"'ow 'r we gonna be findin' this Palpatine thingy? In th' past, we been either in small villages or in one big town wit' an obvious clue. Ye cannae be missin' th' beast, Brodur, righ'? Bu' 'ere we jest be lookin' fer a secret order or sommat? Ye cannae be hopin' t' jest be walkin' down th' streets lookin' fer a sign, or shoutin' in th' marke'!"
"As fer th' vampire killers, who cares if'n some fanged beastie gets staked? Th' big concern is why so many vamps in th' first place? Ain't normal there being a large blood nest like tha' is i'?
Whiskey hit the nail on the head. Why are there so many Vamps here?
We are looking for The Whispering Way. They are a cult linked to The Whispering Tyrant. The Whispering Tyrant was this big time undead guy. Vampires are undead guys.
The math makes sense to me.
So, what I will do is get out there and get invited to a few social parties. That will get us closer to this secret society. I hope others of you will aid in trying to find the staker or more of the future stakee-ee-s.
Bronin butchuring the language adaptation.
From a religious standpoint, Whiskeyjack knows that the Esoteric Order of the Palatine Eye is a semi-secret society dedicated to uncovering old knowledge which may or may not be religious.
Wren, however, knows a lot about it.
First off, you've dealt with the Order before. Judge Embreth Daramid was your patron during your attempts to clear the Beast's name so many months ago in Lepidstadt. She was a member of the Order who have a strong base of operations in Lepidstadt - which makes sense considering its famous university of the strange and arcane. So in the least you have a strong ally within the order.
The Order itself is based in Ustalav but does have members across Avistan and beyond, and is dedicated to not only unearthing ancient knowledge, but maintaining the "old" ways of Ustalav which likely predate the reign of the Whispering Tyrant. They are deeply involved in political matters and known for some strange rituals and internal titles, a common thing in weird clubs for rich people.
Wren, now that she thinks about it, also just happens to know where this chapter of the Order is headquartered. They meet at night in the Haraday Theater on Constance Street, with the local chapter leader being a man named Edjureus Modd.
Wren babbles and babbles about what she knows. She's still high strung from the earlier investigation.
"Well, that's what I know. Maybe we'll finish our rest and head there on the morrow?" Wren, if others agree, will go back to her nest and sleep for the night, be ready to move out on the morrow.
Elena's jaw drops, "You knew where the Secret Order is the whole time? You are amazing!" She curls back in bed for a few more hours until everyone is rested.
Wren clarifies that she's not done preening nor studying her spellbook enough to want to go out just yet. In a few hours, she'll have her face on and be ready to go visit people.
Whiskeyjack grumbled about not being able to wait until a dwarf got his much-earned rest, then stumped back off to put on his armor and prepare his spells for the day. Once he was prepared, and the others had all congregated, he asked, "Well, th' crazy elf knows where the Palpatine Eye folks be in th' evenin'. D' we jest hang aroun' an' wai' until then? Or head o'er now and ask some questions?"
So, the real goal is to visit the theater tonight. But we will also do a few things to further our goals and gather some more information.
It's important not to go off on our own. We should split into groups of two or three.
One group should go to the shopping bazaar to pick up supplies and information.
I think VestalElena would like to stay here and work the Inn's crowd. Someone should stay and watch over her.
I'd like to get out and about so I can get invited to a social ball or gathering from the rich and elite.
That's three places and six companions. Meet back at the 4th ring on the midday candle?
What do the rest of you think?
"Now that we know where this secret Order is there is no reason for me to go work the room. We can just go straight there." Elena waits for Wren to wake up from her bird rest. "Though they don't wait until nighttime right? So may as well get some stuff done. I'll go to the market with someone if we are moving in buddy teams for safety."
You all get your shop on and strike into the heart of the city to buy all the creature comforts which have been sorely denied to you. Wren recalls that the Esoteric Order meet on Oathday evenings, and sure enough, today is Oathday.
How convenient.
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The aged, stately structure of the Haraday Theater lies nestled among several shops. The rough wooden exterior bears the signs of numerous repairs and modifications, though it seemingly has need of many more. The building itself has two entrances, one to the west and another to the south, both illuminated by large, wall-mounted oil lamps. Well-dressed servants stand outside these doors, welcoming arriving carriages and turning away passersby who linger next to the glass windows of what appears to be a large meeting hall.
You approach the door and the servants stare at you politely. "No play tonight. Special event, invitation only."
"Aye, an' we go' a verbal invite from Judge Daramid in Lepidstadt, too. "
Whiskeyjack was back in his full armor, backing up Lena, as usual, with brute strength and alcoholic breath.
Wren follows along with the party, cheerfully babbling about what she knows and repeating herself more than once sometimes. She’s very happy to be back in the city and will occasionally make up gossip about some of the people they pass based entirely on what they look like and how that might resemble people she had known in her past.
”...and you can tell from his weak chin that he’s probably a poop sniffer. They are always poop sniffers, them kinds...”
Wren will let others do the talking with the Order.
As the guards look to her Elena stammers as she looks quite young to be traveling with the group. She cant't be more than 16-17 years of age. "I just joined with them. They saved my town as underwater creatures took all of our children. That is why I ran away." She wasn't sure why she was saying all this but the guards questioning stare made her nervous.
Bronin sweeps to the front of the VIP line with a flourish. A fine Cloak of exceptional make rippling for effect.
Ahhh, my good man. Please tell the people inside that our attendance to tonight's special event is very important. As my companions have stated, there are members of "your special -invite only event" - that have given us an invitation.
Please check for the names: Lord Bronin Dohari. Elena Nethermore, Esteemed Mr. Dunaldthal, Jamesson Addercop The FOURTH, wren , and Vladlena the powerful.
If those names are not on the list-- and they certainly should be - dropping the names of Professor Lorimar and Judge Daramid should work.
Now, I hate to do all this "namedropping" it seems so droll--- but if all of that does not cause a stir of unrelenting excitement amongst your clan.... a final name: The deceased Barliss Rask - formerly a Dullahan.
Bronin uses his best way with words.
He tries to read the servants reactions.
Adder is visibly uncomfortable with using the front door and announcing his presence. His skin pales when Bronin uses his full name.
"Baba Wren, tell me again this is necessary?"
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”To sniff poop? Oh...I don’t think that’s a good idea at all,” Wren misunderstands as she was on a train of thought. ”Unless you’re a doctor, of course. They can sniff as much poop as they want if they feel it will help diagnose....”
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Adder nods and turns to the doorman.
"Very well, as Bronin has requested, please take us to smell your poop."
The group stammer and speak over each other and when they start talking and the doorman looks about ready to tell the lot of you to take a hike when Bronin smoothly interjects and starts name-dropping. Despite confusing and embarrassing everyone, it seems to be haughty enough to impress the doorman.
"Fine, you say enough nonsense for this lot. They've got some ceremony going on, don't interrupt. Wait in the room to your left."
With that the doorman swings open the door, revealing the interior of the Haraday Theatre.
Dark hardwood floors and paneled walls highlight the entrances to the secretive social club. The exterior doors stand open, while
dim lamps illuminate those ahead.
There are doors on either side, and taking the left one you enter into a beautiful lounge. Round tables fill this wide chamber, and mahogany liquor cabinets line the walls to the east and west. Heavy drapes hang beside three large windows and lit iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling overhead.
This appears to have been set up as an active tavern. You see a few younger, posh-looking men and women conversing over wine and cigars. In the distance, you hear solemn chanting. As you step in, one coughs and quickly moves up to you, smiling with forced politeness. His voice is quiet, so as to not interrupt whatever is going on in the main theatre.
"... may I help you? This is a private event!"
"... may I help you? This is a private event!"
To which Bronin replies. Using the force of his presence. A high level of entitlement thick on his tongue. A tongue that has held "court" to provincial squabbles and noble v. noble interventions.
THAT is why we are here. This is a Private Event and we need to be here. We KNOW the right people to be here, and we ARE the right people to be here.Maybe I should ask - how can LORD BRONIN DOHARI help Y-O-U?
Giving extra emphasis on his title, and pointing to himself with his hand gestures.
Wren follows the party to the next room, still babbling about her imagined character traits based on facial features.
”...and don’t get me started on people with mullets. Those kinds of people are known...blahblahblah...dogs or cats..blahblahblah...ripe tomatoes up their...blahblahblah...and their shoes still aren’t clean...blahblahblah...and I can feel their gaze, wanton and wanting upon my ample...blahblahblah...and that’s why I like knickers.”
Wren stops talking when she finally realizes there are others in the room.
Elena leans over, she had never been to a fancy event before and didn't quite know the protocol. She whispers to Wren. "We have already been let in. Why do folks keep telling us this is private?" She lets Bronin and those associated with the Professor that led them here do the talking.
The young man winces as Bronin raises his voice. "Please sir, keep your voice down. Provided you don't interrupt the initiation I'm sure you can stay, this won't have been the first time." He sighs. "The bar is cash I'm afraid. Let me know the purpose of your visit and I will ensure the more senior members of the order as soon as the initiation rite is done."
The purpose -in general- is about The Whispering Way. There's a lot more to the layers, but that's best reserved for the Senior Members.
Cash bar is fine for Bronin. He goes to the bar and quietly mingles.
He anticipates the others will go and do the snooping and Initiation Rite spying. He's above all that type of stuff...especially since he can just ask about it later from Wren or Adder.
Anyone care to join me at the bar? Drinks are on me. I'd like to chat with the local nobles. Maybe pick up a Castillian dance with a lady of refinement.
Wren does join Bronin at the bar for a bottle of gentle elf wine, if they have it.
”And so I was saying, Bronin, the weakest part of the human anatomy...blahblahblah...such short stubby...blahblahblah...despite their ability to copulate like...blahblahblah...hyenas and the like...blahblahblah...with tremulous pulsing, followed by liberal applications of gnomelube...blahblahblah...and that’s why copulatory farting is perfectly normal.”
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Gnomelube? Is there even such a thing?
He turns to the other youngsters at the bar to strike up shallow conversation - which he certainly includes Wren.
You ever hear on Gnomelube? My companion is trying to pull a fast one on me and I'm not falling for it. I feel the need to ask someone
like you - who knows things and is worldly!
Diplomacy going to work.
Elena lets out a small whistle and quickly exits the conversation beginning about gnomelube. "Oh look Lena, drinks..." SHe rushes over and grabs a drink and lets Bronin do his thing, though she is 99% sure they will get kicked out now. Her face a crimson red by this point. "Maybe they will forget we are with those two."
Adder scans the room, looking for anything unusual or noteworthy.
Wren continues to babble and gossip, while both drinking and sometimes spilling her elfwife. "Well, I don't really *know* about gnomelube, it just makes sense that it must exist when you consider the proportions of the...blahblahblah...and the female of the species very...blahblahblah...hard to even get in edgewise...blahblahblah...diameter is half the girth...blahblahblah...and which is why iron is superior to tin when constructing habitats, obviously."
Seeing that he said the wrong thing, and Bronin is quite good at starting the conversation with the wrong words, tone, or inflection.
The problem with Bronin is that he's Feast or Famine. He accomplishes the diplomatic mission or he just keeps verbally fumbling his way deeper and deeper.
Um, never mind. You obviously have anti-gnome sentiments. I mean, I thought Gnome-hate was a thing of the past, and for closed minded people. I've known some great Gnomes, and you really should keep an open mind about the race.
The youth's face darkens as Bronin makes it perfectly clear what they're looking for. "I see. Know that the Whispering Way and the Order are most mortal enemies. Your intentions had best be good, sir. Our knowledge is also not up for random perusal. We are not a library, however I will introduce you to the senior members of our order once the rite is completed."
You settle in at the bar at Bronin's treat. The drinks are ridiculously expensive, but also extremely good. The ceremony in the back involves a lot of call and response in what the group eventually decides is Ancient Orsiani.
After midway in to your second drink and into Wren's shockingly obscene descriptions of the mating rituals of the horned booby the hallways fill with the sound of conversation, and soon enough the lounge is flooded with members of the Estoteric Order. They all wear ornate robes adorned with scarabs which denote different ranks within the order. A few people shoot glances at you and once man laughs, clapping the alcolyte who was speaking to you.
"Well done on that 'secret society' business, lad."
He grimaces. "Come, let me find a more senior member to introduce you to."
Leading you from the bar through the crowd of people, he points out a tall, imposing man who looks to have seen combat far more than the rest of his lot.
Wren recognizes the orders' internal ranks as being titled 'Thrones' which
"Ahem, apologies, Second Throne. These... guests have arrived with some questions. This is Lord Bornin Dohari, Miss Elena Nethermore, Mister Dunaldthal, Jamesson Addercop the uh - Fourth, Vladelena, and the powerful and also a wren."
The huge man looks you over interestedly. His voice is booming, gravelly. "Hrmph. Adventurers? Well this night finally became worth my time. Count Lucinean Galdana." He extends a hand the size of a reasonable ham over to Bronin in greeting. "What brings your sort here, if I may ask? Hopefully on a mission to kill something splendid. What strange beasts have you encountered in your journeys?"
The Lord's eyes go wide and his mouth breaks into a wide grin.
OH, THE THINGS I'VE KILLED! In my lands, I have a menagerie dedicated just for that....
Bronin will continue on,
"There be many reasons fer us t' be here in this unholy midden o' a city, bu' th' most pressin' be th' need t' be catchin' up wit' some members o' the Whisperin' Way and throttle th' life outta them, stoppin' wha'ever ritual they be plannin', an' generally ruinin' their week. Then mebbe we ken be gettin' down t' the serious work o' finding ou' which o' yer pubs carry th' best ales an' whiskeys. No' tha' any ken be holdin' a candle t' Dwarfhame Whiskey, mind ye, bu' some o' yer human stuff dinnae taste completely like fermented rat piss!"
Um, never mind. You obviously have anti-gnome sentiments.
”*GNOME HATER!? ME!?!*” Wren’s voice gets higher and even more shrill, she is deeply offended by the comment. ”I’ve never hated a gnome in my life! Why this one time, deep in the brothels of the underdark, why this one gnomeling or was it a gnomess?” Wren begins to tell a story of one of her better experiences from back in her very very long life.
She gets shriller and shriller as her anger rises.
”Anyhoot, this gnomess? She was delightful with big...blahblahblah...twice the size of others...blahblahblah...sharing what the gnomelet...blahblahblah...gnowhere to go, but doing it again...blahblahblah...and twice again after that, if you can believe...blahblahblah...seeing in the dark isn’t always a good thing when looking at the naked...blahblahblah...trollskin flap...blahblahblah...and then I had a salad, Bronin. A salad.” Wren says the last few words as if it means something very important and proves her point that she doesn’t hate gnomes at all.
Adder shakes his head.
"If we may ask, what would you consider a splendid beast to kill?"