Geoffrey's Finest (Inactive)

Game Master CampinCarl9127

Banmyra looks a bit taken aback. "Oh, well, umm...a contract?" She looks a little dazed at all the sudden formal business. "I wouldn't want to step on any toes by doing work for competing merchants."

"My competitor is not a merchant in a traditional sense. He is the criminal behind the ore shortage. I'm part of the merchant consortium trying to end the shortage. I won't deceive you, Banmyra. The information on this potential communication may be dangerous. It's up to you whether you want this business. The NDA is for your protection."

Banmyra goes pale. "You mean...Villichi?" She looks around as if he might have heard her say his name. "Look, I don't want any trouble, please...I have a family."

"I don't want you to have any trouble either, which is why I am not trying to trick you. Unravelling this potential communication may save lives and help bring down a man who is slowly killing your city. I read an op-ed recently that suggested he is able to do this because our fear of him allows him ever greater acts of terror and mayhem. But it should be your choice. I won't tell. Our business would be a secret, but I will not force you or trick you. If you help me it should be for your family. For your family to be fear of the threat of his malice."

Ianna's reply is uttered sincerely, her face open and warm.

As surprised as Dalton was with Tosscobble's continued acceptance of their bending the rules, when the tales came to him, he was more mesmerized by the nature of chance games with this new (to him, at least) religion. Chance for chance's sake as a divine manifestation? He was no expert on racially-specific pantheons, and the surface and name of the Gnomish deity was really all he'd recognized. Unlike Desna who seemed to lean into the meaning of fate, the gnomish god of games seemed to prefer more isolated instances of luck analysis.

I like abstract. Poppycock as a faith though.

"What sort of band would he like? I'll try to make a setting thematic to the office."

The clergyman might not have found the task important, but Dalton took pride in his work. No shoddy baubles from me.

*******

Altering his mental preparations (Detect Scrying instead of Fleshworm Infestation, Scrying instead of Bestow Curse), Dalton made well on the suggestion to scry. He invoked his protection, then attempted to look through the arcane dimensions to Rilka. Please be safe.

The chanting and motions as he walked around the mirror and levitating emerald became more and more intense until they reached their peak...

~The Lovers~

Banmyra looks between Ianna and Bjorkus, eyes wide in fear. She looks down, then suddenly the blue concoction behind her snaps and jumps loudly, making the gnome jump as well. She dashes over and takes the stopper off, putting some more of the green powder in it. As the bubbling slows down she looks up with a resolute expression. "Yes, people need to do something. Come on. Let's see what we're dealing with."

Banmyra leads them into the backroom and turns off the lights with a gesture, then takes the blank sheet and lays it out flat. "Now let's see, the typical kinds of messages are...well it's not magical in nature, so it must be alchemical..." She starts bounding around, grabbing half a dozen things from the shelves and sometimes going out into the main shop to grab something. Eventually she enlists Bjorkus to start moving some of the heavier stuff.

After a dozen tests she starts frowning. "Salt, lemon, revelation powder, mold spores, brimstone, magnesium, mugwort extract, realgar, myrrh, urea, nothing is working! Oooh, unless..." She picks up the parchment and holds it over a candle, narrowing her eyes. "Yes! Right there I...ahhh!" Suddenly the parchment catches on fire and causes her to jump back. She quickly douses it with a pitcher of water, although small bits of the paper have been burned away. She starts shaking her head. "Oh no no no, I'm just making it worse, I'm so stupid! It was laced with phosphorus and brain mold, a defense mechanism against people trying to read secret messages. Well I can at least tell you there's definitely a message in there. Maybe you should take it to somebody more experienced...before I do any more damage..."

"You have done a lot, Banmyra. We weren't completely sure if there even was a secret message here. To whom would your refer us? I feel like I'm walking in the dark along a slippery ledge. I have a good feeling about you. Would you be willing try again?"

Ianna will cast Guidance to help if if she does.

"Goddess, please guide this young lover."

As Dalton prepares to Scry, Toramin wistfully asks, "Should I fetch you one of her personal belongings, Master Dalton? I really wish there were something I could do to help."

Bjorkus remains silent for the longest time while Ianna handles negotiations with the scatterbrained alchemist. He helps when he's asked but otherwise eyes the alchemical ingredients with suspicion. He'd heard certain ones could make a man impotent. It was a warning he took seriously.

The brief fire quickly snaps him out of his anxious haze. Banmyra needed his special touch.

"Give it another shot. We heard you were one of the best in town. I'm sure we won't be disappointed", the ogrish man says before whistling a tune and placing an enormous hand on her shoulder. The brief contact fills her with a rush of bravery and confidence.

Heroism. +2 morale bonus to stuff including skill checks. I'm not sure how long her attempts take but it's good for an hour.

~Ianna & Toramin~

Banmyra looks at the scorched parchment and nods. "Yes, I know some of what it's laced with now. And phosphorous doesn't mix well with a lot of other chemicals, so there's only so many options now..." With newfound confidence, she tries again. Once again there is a flurry of activity. "Keif...no that would just reweave the fibers...realgar? No, the process is far too complicated to have a parchment survive...saltpeter? Bah, no luck either..." After a solid thirty minutes of experimenting, with Ianna and Bjorkus starting to lose focus on the complex processes happening, she suddenly cries out. "Yes, I've got it! Come, come come come!" She is holding a pale silver-blue concoction in the air, gently painting it across the surface to reveal words written in a delicate and gorgeous cursive. "Moondew! Moondew is what did it!" She delicately paints over the rest of the message until the entire paper is faintly damp. She turns with a proud smile. "Give it a few minutes to dry and the words should be readable."

Although a few words were lost during the brief fire, the vast majority of the message is easy to read after a few minutes.

~Dalton & Toramin~

Dalton focuses his sight on revealing Rilka, reaching the peak of his spell. But as he voices the final incantation he sees the swirling energy flash...and his spell goes through without a hitch. He sees Rilka asleep in a poorly lit room, although the bed she is on seems rather comfortable. Lush black cushions with red lace. Rilka is still in the disguise of Chibi, and looks completely unharmed, even healed of all her wounds. However, although Dalton can't see very far in the small room, he hears a page turned in a book and the slight creak of somebody shifting their weight in a chair. Rilka is not alone in this room, and whoever is with her is out of range of the scrying vision.

Bjorkus reads over the message, reads it again, and then goes over it a third time. "This is good. This might be the first real lead we've got", he says with a glance at Ianna.

"Thanks Banmyra. We'll take a vial of moondew if you've got it to spare. We might run into more of these hidden messages. All we've got to do is brush it across the parchment like you did?"

Ianna reads the message once. The she reads it again. She reads it a third time.

I have rarely been so unhappy to have several of my theories proven correct. Someone is watching us. Well enough to impersonate and frame us. Play us against our enemy. We are being lead around by the nose.

"This is very illuminating. Thank you, Banmyra, this may be the loose thread we needed to unravel this hellish tapestry. How much do we owe you?"

Banmyra nods enthusiastically. "Ah yes, I have plenty more! Just make sure you're gentle when you apply it, moondew likes to clump together and congeal into big blobs, and it can ruin parchment if you're not careful. It won't come off, and if you pull too hard you'll rip the paper up. Small doses and patience."

She shakes her head at Ianna's offer of money. "I'm just glad I could do something to help against...well you know." She glances around; it's as if fear of Villichi has become part of her being now.

Between the costly components used and the extra vial of moondew, about 20 gold would cover her expenses.

"In case we are being followed, I would like to buy something pricey from you to justify your time. I want you to be able to go home safely to your family."

"Well I can't say I'll complain about the extra business. I have a number of potions, as well as all kinds of alchemical items."

She has all potions up to 2nd level, and up to 5th level on a case by case basis, less and less the higher the level is.

Ianna counts the gold out on the counter. Her professionalism dissolves -- as does her respect for personal boundaries -- when she gives Banmyra a swift hug. "Be brave. May the Golden Gift bless you and enrich your love."

Once they have left the shop, Ianna turns to Bjorkus and whispers in a quiet but furious tone.

"Bad enough that they kidnapped Rilka, but to try to use your desire against you!? Filth! Foulness! May the goddess wither their hearts. May despair dog their steps. May they catch the drip!"

The priestess of beauty, love, and desire breathes a calming breath before she continues, "The letter confirms my worst fears about a third party. Our associates will need to know. I almost laughed when I read the grey and the gray. Apparently, that was in earnest. Have you heard of the River King?"

River King?: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Not sure what knowledges would be appropriate or if we should be gathering info on this guy.

"Whoa there Fury. Save the harsh language for the professionals", Bjorkus chides in jest. "You're right. We need to get this information to Them. If we can get a location, we'll need to get everyone together and pay this River King a visit."

Enhanced Diplomacy (Gather Info: River King): 1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 12 + 2 = 29

On the way to the Rainbow Barrel Ianna asks some questions.

Banmyra is taken aback for a moment, then smiles and hugs back. She blushes and nods. "Thank you Ziza. I hope you stay safe with whatever it is you're doing."

I don't know what that die roll is Bjorkus.

It takes some digging, but amongst the scum of the city (and a few others) the River King turns out to be a fairly well known criminal. His real name is Tahk Mejen, but everybody either calls him the River King or King Tahk. The information about him kind of reminds Ianna of what she's heard about Yix, the catfolk the rest of the party met in Akropash. He's an information broker, a 'celebrity criminal', and the kind of guy you can turn to when you just don't know what else to do; if you're rich and desperate enough.

However, the real issue is finding him. Almost everybody in town knows him, but nobody seems to know where he operates. The poor district, the merchant streets, the docks, the industrial center, the underground, the museum, the mountains; well known he may be, but easy to gain an audience with he is not. It seems to be one of those "You have to know somebody" situations.

Alas, Ianna never met Yix. She was in a medically induced coma at the time.

Alas, Ianna never met Yix. She was in a medically induced coma at the time.

Fixed. And honestly there's a good chance she might have talked to him during one of the many times Dalton has scryed on Ninnec; he and Yix are good friends.

Her brother likes both of them, so they have definitely come up.

I bet Alziver knows how to find him. I am not happy with the museum theft. Who could run a game on the Cult of the Gray Master, the Aestherics, and a crazed antipaladin?

"Maybe the sods at the Rainbow Barrel will know how to get in touch with him."

Dalton considered Toramin's offer a moment before waving it away. "The familiarity would certainly help if she were trying to resist my observation, though she wouldn't. The real problem would be anti-divinations applied to her, and no matter what trinkets I have, they would be no help."

As the image came into view, Dalton was relieved. This could've been more difficult.

"Hear that, Toramin? Someone is reading a book, waiting for her to awake or guarding her. I've a few gold pieces that say it's the hooded man from the tavern." He tapped his chins with a finger. "It is probably more prudent to keep the line of scrying open for few minutes while and hope our opponent walks into view, rather than disturb her immediately. Also, even with a message spell, it is possible someone with keen ears could hear it."

We could also be fortunate enough to have her wake up...

In the meantime, Dalton attempted to detect the presence of magic through his scry. If, after 3 minutes, the enemy doesn't come into view, Dalton will message the following:

~Ianna & Bjorkus~

Ianna and Bjorkus reach the Rainbow Barrel and see that a large CLOSED sign is hanging on the front door and the windows are barred shut, but sounds of moving furniture and talking can be heard coming from inside.

~Dalton & Toramin~

The scrying image remains the same after three minutes and Dalton risks casting a spell. Rilka remains unmoving but for the slight rising and falling of her chest, and the gentle page turning continues.

Would you like to try again?

"Maybe they are keeping her asleep like Ianna was. Can you read her mind through the scrying focus?"

On the walk over, Ianna considers a list of people capable of fooling the parties involved who were not once her captor.

Religion (How Powerful is the Cult of Sivannah in Grastle Hollow): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (1) + 14 = 15

Recall: Religion (How Powerful is the Cult of Sivannah in Grastle Hollow): 1d20 + 14 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 14 + 4 = 23

"Perhaps we should knock?"

When Bjorkus' meaty fists shiver the timbers of the door, Ianna will call out, "We come in peace and with reparations!"

Sivanah had a fairly decent following here, although more spiritual and magical gnome civilizations have larger followings. In Grastle Hollow they're certainly not powerless, but they don't hold a huge amount of influence.

There's a moment of silence from the building, then footsteps coming to the door. After what sounds like half a dozen heavy locks being undone, the male bartender shows his tattooed face. He gives a dirty look, then hacks up a loogie and spits onto the ground. "You got something for me?" He looks for the gold.

"Maybe they are keeping her asleep like Ianna was. Can you read her mind through the scrying focus?"

Dalton shook his head. "The mechanisms working through this magic are quite limited. In fact, I must recast cantrips sometimes to get them to function." Toramin's question did spark a second idea from Dalton though. "If the conflict at the tavern was a ruse, it could be the case this image is also as such; maybe they expected this scrying and wanted to hear what we had to say to Rilka. Message spells aren't telepathic; they manifest as audible whispers."

Someone nearby would be able to hear...

"As one of the stone pillars of virtue, you have the ability to detect the vile, do you not? Such a power should also function through the scry, though you might have to try it a few times. See if you can sense something of the sort through there. It is possible there are mundane manifestations of evil about."

Toramin will focus his spiritual senses through the sensor. Detect Evil!

After Toramin tries to focus a few times, he finally gets his holy senses to function through the fickle divination magic. And then Toramin feels his heart flutter as he breaks into a cold sweat.

He senses the presence of evil.

Overwhelming evil.

Although the power does not throw him back against the wall, he knows it is evil beyond his own power. However it is also lingering; sometime in the last few days is when the evil presence was here.

Is this evil presence greater than what he would imagine Calios has?

"Rotted earth! Something foul malingers where she lies. In the past few days, something terrible was there. The shadow of its evil still malingers."

You'll have to remind me of when you've scanned Calios before.

I have not. He has however heard from Bjorkus and Gabriel the powers that he used during their respective fights. He is basically asking if this aura could have been left by an antipaladin between 9-12th level, or if it is much stronger than that.

Based on what Toramin has heard from Gabriel and Bjorkus, this aura is significantly stronger than what they had encountered.

"We've got the coin", Bjorkus says while jingling a modest sack of coins. "But we should come inside and talk first. We wouldn't want to short change you for the damages the Rainbow Barrel suffered the other day."

~Ianna & Bjorkus~

The man sneers. "I can practically see the s+@* boiling from between yer teeth, you snipy green-eared bilge rat. Five hundred gold, and we don't ever see yer slimy faces around here again."

"Ha. You will take what we give you. And if you don't want to talk to us we will give you decidedly less. Does your bluster ever win you friends?"

Ianna replies calmly but firmly.

Bjorkus sighs.

"You'll get your coin", Bjorkus says honestly. "But we need to talk. What happened the other day was planned by Villichi's people. The sods used this place and your crew. You're damn lucky none of 'em got killed. I know you don't want to get in the middle of this but you already are. Villichi's men put you there", he explains. "I've got proof but you have to let us inside."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34

"You can take yer friends and shove 'em right up yer-!"

"Oh will you take it down a notch, it's a right miracle they even came back." The female bartender steps into view and gives the man a stern gaze. He grumbles and goes back inside. She looks after him for a moment then leans up against the door frame. Her many baubles sway in the breeze as she gazes at the two in front of her. "We don't really care who did what or for what reason. We don't care if you plan to string up a dozen priests by their innards and deface their corpses. And we don't care who you're in bed with; but whatever business you got sure as hell isn't going to be coming onto our doorstep. And by Besmara's t&%%, I do not want to hear the 'they started it' argument. I don't even care if you have Villichi himself with you ready to confess. Savvy?"

I still don't get why these pirates aren't interested in talking to an actual pirate especially ones rolling 34s on Diplomacy checks, but . . .

"That's fine. I'm at least as uninterested in justifying myself to you as you are at hearing it. I'm glad you, your friend, and your dog survived. I'm willing to pay market value for the chairs, the window, and the two tables that were broken. Which by my estimates won't top 50 GP, even if you hired elves to sing the wood for you. We would also be willing to pay market value for information that could be useful for us. Perhaps even information you would find valuable. One pearl I'll give you for free. We have reason to believe that your green barmaid is in Villichi's employ. However, if you aren't interested in talking here is your 50 gold and good luck with your sinking ship."

Implying that all pirates get along haha. And also not all roleplaying situations can be solved with a die roll.

The woman frowns, then shouts back into the bar. "You royal ass, how much did you ask them for?!" The response is what sounds like a table slamming on the ground and she shakes her head. "Fifty gold is fine." She starts counting the money, but suddenly stops and looks at Ianna, her brows lowering in anger. "Excuse me?" She quickly looks around the street, then ushers both of them inside, closing the door behind them.

The Rainbow Barrel didn't look that good yesterday, but now it's a complete mess. Shattered wood and glass everywhere, as well as a burned patch where Rilka was set on fire. The male bartender is dragging half a table towards the door, but sets it down when he sees the party and takes out his blunderbuss. "Althea I swear by the Queen!-" She whips a hunk of shattered wood at him. "Shut up you old bastard! Listen Quint, they think Olive is flipping deuces. On Villichi's coin." Quint curls his lip, but lowers his firearm. "I'd bet my left nut they're lying through their teeth."

I would have more sympathy for that position if his posts didn't include a paragraph or two of dialogue. Social challenges require both. Fast talking players shouldn't get away with the moon if they don't have the chops and characters with the skills should be given a bit of leeway when they do social stuff that might not be in the player's skill set.

Ianna gives a slightly indelicate snort. "I wouldn't trust the instincts of a man who thought burning down own his bar was a good idea. Isn't that like setting a ship ablaze to get rid of a few rats? I'm not one to lie when the truth is usual all the goad one needs. Come on, Ragnar, some people would rather close their eyes and wait for the end then do something to solve their problems."

The dwarven maid turns on her heel and gets ready to stalk away. Maybe anger is as useful a tool as sweet words in the right situation.

If the pirates aren't interested in more talking we will go meet Alziver's contact at the bank.

"Bar ain't worth a s@!* if nobody respects it. I'd rather burn it down than have people thinking they can do whatever the hell they want in it." Quint spits.

Althea blocks Ianna's exit. "Alright well if he's done measuring himself over there, you mentioned proof? And what's the information you want in return?"

Quint growls, but before he can even speak Alteha whips another chunk of wood at him. "If I need your opinion I'll ask for it you stubborn old cur! They came in fair shackles for an honest trade!"

Ianna stops short when Althea gets in front of her.

"I have a secret letter recovered from the blonde crossbowman. I can show you the letter. I can even tell you why we were in your bar last night, if you care. I would like to know where we could find the River King. I would pay gold if you knew who actually robbed the museum. It's hard enough getting ore into the city only to see the artisans get killed along without all this other nonsense."

Althea gives a soft hmm. "Actual written proof. Not bad, collar." From across the room Quint bangs his head into a table with a grunt of pain and Althea frowns. She pointedly ignores the comment about telling her why the party was there. "We don't know anything about the art heist. What business do you have with Tahk?"

"I'm more curious why he has so much business with Villichi. If he is in bed enough with Villichi to give his wayward ducklings new directives, then he is connected enough to give us the information we need to visit Villichi with the same hospitality that he has extended us."

"Sounds like you plan on going after him with weapons drawn. Aye, we know him. But we don't ask who all he does business with or why." Quint glares at her from across the room, which she ignores. "Now come on, word gets 'round that you hit Villichi because we gave you a tip off and suddenly the next hit is on us."

"Perhaps, that is a risk, but that hit wouldn't be coming from Villichi. Who, apparently, already thinks of your bar as a place he can dispose of as he wishes and employees to corrupt at his whim. He may not have ordered you dead last night, but didn't Quint just say something about the value of respect. We respect you enough to pay for the damages to your bar after being ambushed in it -- as the letter will reveal. I don't see Villichi's ducklings here paying you for the trouble. It seems to me that he already thinks of you as a whipped cur; does one respect a whipped cur? Now if Villichi were to be toppled, then wouldn't he learn the cost of disrespect?"