"I cannot help but think that there has to be some intention to that much incompetence.
Tell me why you want the painting. It is not our habit of walking in blind to situations."
Ianna knew what she was doing with her negotiations. Dalton may have been an expert jeweler, but with anything but his craft, she could have made him penniless just to buy bread and mead.
The painting did seem a queer focus. "Lopa" waited until her inquiry received a response from their conversationalist.
"How do you know the painting remains there and is in good condition?"
This may be more than a simple test of aptitude.
Those gears could represent some holy connection. Stealing such a work would draw the ire of whatever rank and file guard and order the city has. Particularly Tosscobble. He's forcing a divide from us and the city to impose his first "request". Has he seen through our disguise?
Ragnar remains silent as the rest of the party goes to work on the gnome.
"Possibly. I haven't hard tell of that though." He grins. "Well painting is a strong word for it, it's more of an artistic mechanical. It has functions programmed into it that will help both our goals." He turns to Dalton. "It's one of the most famous pieces of art in the city. It's disappearance will be noticed."
"Which are? This is a test for us both, Alziver. A test for us to get the mechanical. A test for you to tell the truth about its nature and why you want it."
Ianna's lovely voice is never anything less than polite, but she is obviously not willing to let the gnome say nothing but converse about a great deal.
"It's a spy." He says simply. "It has information about what's going on in the undercity. You have to manually access it, but it's invaluable. You want the information, I need that piece of art."
Ianna looks around to the group, if she doesn't see push back she will continue, "I believe we can work with that."
Alziver takes another bite of cheese. "Well, anything else than? If not, you have a priceless piece of art to steal and we have a tyrant to overthrow."
"Lopa" rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at the recent detour. "Fine. Let us take care of the errand of this gear-sculpture fetching so we can move on to real business. This has already been a month-long endeavor if it's been a day."
The large man turned to leave. We will have no friends here by the time we're done.
Once they are removed from the cave, Ianna suggests that they prepare to steal the mechanical art.
Once they are removed from the cave, Ianna suggests that they prepare to steal the mechanical art.
"Something tells me we'll run into Tosscobble, but he'll be on the wrong end of this mission for us."
The party makes the long trek back to the city without any issues.
The question we need to ask ourselves is should we use Panrick to clear the way for us or should we case the place ourselves?
Once back at their residence, Rilka says, ”I say we explore the security around the art. Alziver would be a useful ally, but I don’t particularly like the idea of something that is so beloved by the public going to an individual that will keep it in their private collection.” She puts her hands on her hips. ”We could always try to steal it back, if we steal it in the first place. I don’t like the idea of using Panrick about this either. He might not agree with us that it’s worth doing. Honestly I don’t know if it’s worth doing. Even if he doesn’t get the art piece, I don’t think Alziver wouldn’t have any problems if his only action in this enterprise is taking power after Villichi has been contained.”
"Alzier is obviously less than trustworthy; he will betray us if we defeat Villichi because then he will fear us. However, I agree we should case the artwork. It will have to be returned when we leave town, but that's a matter for another time. We should also try to discover what kind of information it records."
"Appealing to Panrick for permission with this "borrowing" will preclude our ability to proceed with the acquisition if he chooses to deny us; security would triple. I concede a more covert retrieval would be best, but this option merely sits with me as the best of two ills."
The method decided in his head, Dalton considered the entry and exit strategy. "We must see what abjurations are about on the building. Barring very strong magics, I could have a short range dimensional door opened for our entry and exit. If some of us can manage to heft the piece during the casting, that should make transport simple enough." The mage gestured towards Toramin and "Ragnar". "I could imbue you both with a muscle enhancer to make that job feasible."
"Unfortunately, I doubt the artwork is freestanding; we would need to extract it from whatever base it's attached to without damaging it. That would be a difficult task indeed."
”They probably have magical alarms too,” Rilka says. ”In addition to all manner of gear-driven mechanical safeguards. So, we’ll investigate the museum, and then decide if it’s worthwhile to do this favor for Alziver. We do have other avenues to explore to take down Villichi. After what happened to the smiths and talking to Alziver, we definitely need to be careful.”
"Panrick could give us an easy in", Bjorkus muses. "Or he could make gettin' our hands on this thing a big pain in the ass. I say we keep him out of the loop for now."
"Then let us make our foray at pre-dawn. What guard there may be will likely be tired, and escape will be easier under the cover of darkness. I need some time to adjust the spells in my mind for the task anyway. It may also be prudent to adjust our guises so our current visages aren't recognized in the event we are seen."
"Agreed. I think gnomish disguises would be best."
”Pre-dawn?” Rilka asks surprised. ”I thought we’d start by going to the Museum of Rhombodazzle during the normal hours. Just looking at it as...one of us could be an art student. Make a few sketches of it while also spending time looking at guards, looking for security features. That type of thing. The others can do a general surveil of the museum. Guards, entrances, windows, and magic for example.
Alziver said it’s big, right in the grand entrance hall, so it I wonder how they got it in. Maybe the doors are oversized, maybe it was assembled in place. It might be nice to talk to its creator too. Find out how it works.”
Rilka pauses thinking for a moment. ”It’s funny, but after we met him I am less willing to help him return to his previous position. The fact that he wants this art piece for himself really displeases me. Nevertheless, let’s don some gnome guises, and explore the museum grounds before dawn; then return later...maybe after lunch.”
The party adjusts their disguises to show up as a group of bland-looking gnomes, then goes under cover of darkness to the Museum of Rhombodazzle. They have no trouble getting back to the city or getting through it to the museum, but once they're in sight they stop short.
Guards are everywhere, running around in a bustle of activity. Citizens line the streets with various reactions of anxiety, confusion, anger, and a dozen other faces. But what's certain is clear: something happened at the museum and only officials are getting in and out right now.
"Beaten to the punch," Dalton mused to the group. "Maybe we can sweet-talk the details from the guards?"
Though the prime suggester, Dalton wasn't much of a sweet talker. Especially being so short now! The feeling was rather distracting.
Doing his best to imitate the common gnome waddle, gnome-Bjorkus approaches the nearest guardsman.
"Howdy!" he says with only some awkwardness. "What's going on in the museum? Is everything okay?"
The guard holds a hand up to Bjorkus, oddly looking like he's trying to put his hand in Bjorkus's crotch due to the height discrepancy of the disguise spell. "Please move back, the city guard has everything under control, citizen." From his tone of voice that's probably not the first (or twentieth) times he's said that tonight.
Disguised as a gnome, Rilka listens to the chatter of the crowd, hoping to hear rumors of what occurred, as she watches the front of the museum, looking for Tosscobble or Panrick. She doesn’t want to linger, if anyone is searching for magic, the four of them will be clearly marked. She motions to the others and says, ”We need to get to work. Foreman Bristtibee has been in a foul mood for the past three days.”
Once past the crowd, she says, ”We can learn more from Tosscobble soon. I didn’t want us to be too evident as using magic, especially disguises, if the authorities were searching for it. Though if we feel one of us should stay behind...it might be worth the risk.” She looks at the others to gauge their reactions.
After some surveillance Rilka does indeed see Fosco Tosscobble on the scene, coming out of the building for a moment to say something to a guard then going back inside. Panrick is nowhere to be seen.
From the crowd Rilka hears a few snippets, although it's hard to get more without engaging in conversation.
"...just like that, without a trace..."
"...ranting and raving afterwards..."
"...one of them died, supposedly..."
"...ould something like this happen here?..."
"...peculiar timing it was..."
"...just like that, without a trace..."
"Lopa" seized the opportunity to expound on the snippet of verbage. "Just like what? Dear me, I'm always late to the excitement! What happened?" The old merchant tried his best to replicate the ever-present curiosity and excitement of the gnomes, but it wasn't natural for him. These lot all can't be as clueless as we are...
An old, flustered looking gnome woman with precariously tall hair bobs forward. "The prize of the museum was stolen! They say it was the work of that damn Villichi and his men, he was seen on scene!"
”That is reprehensible!” Rilka says to the old gnome. ”Why would he steal something so beloved and prized by the citizens?”
A particularly short old gnome with a spiral-shaped hat interjects. "'Cus he's a scourge of the planet! I for one am sick and tired of being pushed around and intimidated by Villichi and his band of thugs!"
Ianna will also canvas the crowd for information.
Jumping to conclusions. We've no evidence we aren't the ones being played. This whole subterfuge in subterfuge is giving me a headache...
The mage in disguise wiped his brow, rubbed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Heff should have done this himself; it's more his wheelhouse. Well, maybe Rilka's too...
Frustrated with the situation, his thoughts became jumbled; he let the others do the talking.
After asking a few questions, Ianna learns that the name of the piece of art that was stolen was Insight. She then learns after a few more questions that it was EXACTLY the piece of art they came here to steal.
"Lopa"'s face frumpled. "Scandalous." Turning to his peers, he offered a fork: "I suppose if we're not going to speak with the officers to see what happened, it is high time we returned for tea."
Perhaps this is some elaborate framing, but I can't make sense of it. Miss Featherfeet has a better mind for these sorts of things.
"Yes, I could do with some refreshment."
Once they have returned, Ianna sighs, "I don't believe in coincidences. Should we inform the council? Or should we hit the pasta shop?
"Let's try the pasta shop. We're not gunna learn anything here."
Rilka nods. ”Yeah, let’s get some pasta for breakfast. I’ll find our pal later and ask him some questions.” Rilka whispers to her companions, ”This may help us find Villichi’s home. I wonder what he’s planning. I also wonder what he’ll need next. Let’s get a list of questions for our pal that a courier can bring him.” Rilka thumps her chest with the word “courier.”
The party calls it a night and make plans to have pasta for breakfast.
The night and morning pass uneventfully, although there is a palpable tension through the whole city. A short walk later the party arrives at the pasta house and walks in.
The atmosphere is dim save for the pale beams of sunlight piercing in through the windows. At this early hour there are only two other parties; a lone half-orc reading a cover less book and a pair of well-dressed gnomes talking quietly.
A middle-aged and charismatic-looking gnome woman comes out to greet the party. She puts on a smile. "Five than? Would you like a table near the window?" She gestures with a freshly bandaged hand.
Dalton noticed the half-orc and wandered over to him. "Say there - anything interesting?" He waited for the reader to respond. "Good to see more people reading these days."
The half-orc - a well built specimen with a red and black suit on - finishes the line he's on and looks up at Dalton. "The Escapades of Dunniver Longfoot. An old book for sure, but I like to learn about the history of ancient cultures. It's mostly a fiction tale about a hero who lives by his wits."
Dalton thought back to the literature he'd experienced and heard of, trying to recall some information about the nature of the story or - more importantly - the culture to which the half-orc referred here.
Dalton recalls the story, a very old gnomish story that's borderline folklore. The half-orc is most likely some kind of bard or historian or teacher to actually be reading the original.
"And there are many who would consider the work's very existence to be fiction. It is good to keep those tales alive; the world is richer for them." One good soul in this city at least.
Dalton enjoyed stories as a child, and in his adulthood, he often read for leisure. Their tales now could likely be put to a book, if only the stranger in front of him knew.
Chibi nods, ”Near a window is fine,” he replies following the woman. ”Do you recommend anything?” he asks while Lopa goes over to talk to the half-orc.
"Aye." The half orc says simply, glancing back down at his book as if he wants to continue reading.
The woman nods. "My personal favorite for breakfast is the garlic angel hair pasta with crumbled tomato bread." She sits the party at a window table (leaving a spot for Dalton) and places out five menus, wincing slightly as her bandaged hand is strained. "Anything to start? And who would like coffee or breakfast ale?"
Dalton takes the hint from the reader, leaving him in peace for the table.
"Your recommendation with a breakfast ale sounds lovely," he replied to the waitress as he took his place. "My treat." He took out a gold piece from his satchel, setting it on the table.
The half-orc and talk of food had brightened his spirits. For a minute, he thought of home.