Among the rows of orderly gravestones of the old soldiers who finally passed away, there’s a monument that you like to think of as ‘yours’ - not because you put them there, but because it is your secret. The gravestone is that of a young man, passing through Longacre some time ago, who fell under a wagon and was horribly mangled, beyond even Sameen’s ability to heal; although she did her best of course, as she always does. It was only later, as she was clearing the corpse off the table, that you spotted it: the tiniest, neatest incision, puncturing his heart: he’d been dying before he even went under the wagon.
Of course, a good citizen should report it, but the coroner had already given a verdict, and really, who wants to draw that sort of attention (and paperwork!) on themselves? So, only you know that there’s a body buried in the cemetery, right next to the church of Iomedae, that was put there too soon.
It’s a nice place to sit, of a dark night, and think, and wonder…
...Only tonight, someone has got there first. There are no tracks, and nothing is obviously disturbed, but someone has been here perhaps five seconds before you arrived. If it was any longer, the note they have left lodged in the gravestone would have been whipped away in the chill Kuthona wind – as it is, you just manage to grab it before it is lost. It is a heavy, embossed envelope, sealed with wax; on the front, in a neatly-written copperplate scrawl, are the words:
To whom it may concern
Greetings,
We have not yet met, but I hope we can change that. I am always interested in meeting those who see what others do not, who are interested in details that others miss – it suggests potential that is not being used.
I would like to see it used.
If that is of interest, we should meet. Be outside the Ash House tomorrow at midnight.
With best wishes,
A Friend
===========================================
It’s the Cold. You were told, once, that there are months, but out here in the forest there are the four seasons: Rain(warm), Sun, Rain(cold) and Cold. There are places to stay in town, of course, but they don’t like Cheetah very much, so you have places in the forest where you can stay even in the Cold.
Places only you and Cheetah know about.
You thought.
Waiting for you, pinned at a height that none of the local animals will disturb, is a note, addressed to you.
===========================================
The icy Kuthona wind whistles outside, rattling the doors of the shack where you are squatting on the edges of the Whisperwood; the chill morning light filters through the many gaps in the wooden planks.
No human could survive a night in here, at least not without a fire; but your heritage makes you more resistant to the cold.
It doesn’t, unfortunately, give you supernatural senses: you apparently slept through the silent arrival – and departure – of a visitor last night. The only trace of their presence is a heavy, embossed envelope, sealed with wax; it lies neatly on the floor beside you.
On the front, in a neatly-written copperplate scrawl, are the words:
Neryssa, of House Leroung
Greetings,
I never had the fortune to meet your parents but their fame was known to me. If you have even a fraction of their power (and I understand you were a keen pupil) that is of considerable interest.
It is a shame that none of that power is being realised. I dislike wasted potential.
If that description applies to you as well, we should meet. Be outside the Ash House, outside Longacre, at midnight tomorrow.
With best wishes,
A Friend
Me looks down on her note with confusion. "Cheetah, the words are strange. Is it human talk?" Cheetah looks at the letter confused. Through snarls and growls she communicates that she doesnt understand human tounge.
"Oh right. So, midnight? Thats when moon is in the sky all the way top. I learned that this day. And BURNED DOWN HOUSE is house with the burnt stuff."
Cheetah purrs. They had been past there a few times on jobs so at least they knew where that was. "And its from a friend. So we know it safe! Friends only want what best for you. So we go to see what friend. Deal?"
Cheetah purrs softly, willing to go wherever Me goes.
Well. This was certainly unexpected. The Cloaked One's initial thought was, "how did they find me out?" The natural follow-up question was, of course, "how much do they know about me?" The only way to find out was to go to this meeting. While it could be a trap, Sameen hadn't done anything too illegal (breaking and entering didn't count if you didn't steal anything, after all). Plus, the note's author appeared to approve of The Cloaked One's nocturnal activities.
Neryssa jolts upright in alarm, protective magic briefly flaring around her - several hours too late, if it was needed. She scowls. She's gone to some lengths to run from her past, yet the note, with its poisonous little "of House Leroung" is proof positive it hasn't worked.
She shivers, and not - just - at the cold. Wrapping her blanket around her, she crouches on her bedroll and reads the letter.
Hm. I dislike wasted potential. Well, if that description doesn't fit her to a T, she's not sure what does.
She smiles, or at least, her lips curve upwards. So. This nameless "friend" has invited Neryssa of House Leroung - and that's exactly who they'll be getting.
The cold light of dawn trickles through the heavy curtains, but the chill of winter is at least kept out by the brazier of hot coals which stands in the middle of the room. Waking brings memories of last night - another disagreement with Solomon, who seems to want to be a lawman these days... Yes, Chelish nobles will pay for chasing down bandits and runaway slips, but where's the joy in being someone's guard dog?
It's all most unsatisfying.
These thoughts are quickly dispelled when you see the letter, pinned to the wall above your head with a knife. One of your knives.
Greetings,
We have not yet met, but I hope we can change that. I am always interested in meeting those who enjoy their work, who take what they want and are strong enough to hold it.
I would like to give you an opportunity.
If that is of interest, we should meet. Be outside the Ash House, in Longacre, tomorrow at midnight. Come alone.
With best wishes,
A Friend
There's a map in the wall of Solomon's chamber, you remember. Longacre is maybe a day's walk away.
Intriguing. was the first thought that came to Eliphas mind. There was little enough privacy and extra security in a camp of armed man and woman. It simply was not needed, so almost everybody could have placed the note while he was asleep.
And he was known well enough among the outfit that someone could have tailored the content to appeal to him.
Trap?. was the second word, then, that came to mind. But why go through all the trouble if so. If the goal had been to kill him, the deed would already be done.
Opportunity... was the logical consequence...it WAS mentioned on the note, after all - and it did seem like a side job that could be worth taking...and he wanted to meet the person who was bold enough to deliver it in this way.
Midnight. Unclear....tomorrow would start at midnight, in about 16 hours...or end at midnight, in 40 - ambigious. Normally, when orders left room for interpretation, that was enjoyable, but in this case?
Oh well, if he was early, he'd find a way to pass the time...one way or another.
Taking the note and dropping it in the brazier, then pocketing his knife, Eliphas picked up his equipment and stepped out into the sun:"Vardis, if someone comes looking for me, I'll be out hunting for a while."
Vardis, laying on the floor using a backpack as headrest, enjoying the morning sun, blinked and looked up:"The old man won't be pleased, but I'll let him know if he asks. Want to borrow my bow?"
Eliphas raised his Scythe slightly, grinning:"Not for the prey I'm hunting."
The hour is late: a dark, winter's night, with the wind whipping the clouds, sending them scudding across the sky, concealing the moon and the stars from view.
Before the Chelish Civil War, the Ash House was Moragatalli Manor, home to one of old Cheliax’s lesser noble families. In the decades following the rise of House Thrune, numerous supporters of the old order lost their lands, their titles, and — in many cases — their lives. The Moragatallis tried to remain neutral during the revolution and, upon surviving it, congratulated themselves on their quiet canniness.
But House Thrune proved equally quiet and patient with their accountings of their allies, enemies, and milksop bystanders, and decades later, Thrune gave the Moragatalli lands (which included the town of Longacre) to House Fex, which had risen in Thrune’s esteem. The Moragatallis would have complained, of course, had most members of the family not died in their manor’s violent, midnight conflagration. No one doubted what had happened, but the town children’s explanations — blaming witches and ghosts — proved far less frightening than the truth.
In the 60 years since, Moragatalli Manor has been known as the Ash House. It still stands just outside the town to the northwest. The dilapidated structure is a dangerous site most Longacre citizens avoid. Most of the Moragatallis’ wealth burned along with their manor, while looters carried off what little survived soon after the fire. What remains of the manor looks like it could collapse at any moment. Bearing the scars of the decades-old fire, the house is blackened and sags under the weight of its collapsed third floor. Shattered windows pose no barrier to the riot of ivy scaling each gable and invading every cavity.
Bent pillars and a cracked granite porch lead to a warped door bearing a rusty doorknocker shaped like a boar’s head.
Nothing moves outside the house. As you wait, your eyes adjusting to the dark, you can see a faint glimmer of light coming from the upstairs window in the front room. It's not a candle (it doesn't flicker); it's most likely a lantern or an oil lamp. Somebody is home. Or several someones (disquieting thought).
The Cloaked One considered knocking on the door but didn't give in to the urge for the time being. It was not yet the appointed time, after all, and an overabundance of caution wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Best to gather some more information. Perhaps the ivy could help....
<"Have you seen any two-legged creatures in this place recently? How many?">
At about five minutes til, Me and Cheetah arrive at the burned down place. "Well this is where the note said the friend was. Maybe we go in? Looks saggy, maybe not safe for us. Not sure. What you think Cheetah?"
Cheetahs tail lowers and her ears turn down. She growls quietly and hisses.
"Oh don't be like that Cheetah. Its a friend we are here meeting! No friend would hurt us!" Me walks into the building cautiously. "Hello? Anyone home? Well, maybe not home, this place is not safe but you asked Me to meet you here so must be somewhat safe right? But not your home right? That would be sad. I want friends to live in good places. Maybe we find you an inn to stay at? Me will set you up for the night. It late. Maybe time to sleep soon? Hellooo."
<"no.">
The druid and her animal companion walk towards the door, which opens to receive them - and then slams shut again behind them.
As the door closes behind you, you hear a voice call from upstairs: "Up here. I'm glad you could make it. Do join us!"
It's a high, thin, reedy voice. It could belong to either a woman or a man.
A set of stairs is directly in front of you.
She walks, on the stroke of midnight, along the road to the Ash House.
Clad in her finery (although close inspection would suggest that her dress is years, rather than merely seasons, out of fashion in Egorian), she strides, straight-backed and confident. Her red eyes glow slightly in the night's gloom, and her tail is wrapped around the staff she bears in her left hand.
Neryssa scorns any thoughts of protection or stealth - if whoever it was wanted to kill her, this is far too elaborate a trap. Worthlessness has a power all of its own, it would seem.
She arrives just in time to see a human woman and some sort of large feline enter the house via the front door. She hesitates briefly - she was not expecting any others, although now in hindsight this seems foolish - and then approaches, rapping three times on the boar-headed door knocker.
The door opens to receive the tiefling - and then closes again behind her, with a creak.
Distracted by the arrival of a loud human and a tiger, the Cloaked One watches as they enter the building. They didn't seem to be the note's author, which meant things had just become more interesting. After waiting a few minutes to make sure there were no screams or other violent sounds from inside, the Cloaked One quietly entered the building.
Eliphas had arrived at the town of Longacre early...but not early enough to have time to waste. Finding the 'Ash House', he sat down, leaned against a tree, quite a bit away, just watching for any lights or movement nearby.
When he expected it was close to midnight, he got up and walked towards the house.
Holding his Scythe in one hand, Eliphas reached for the Doorknocker, planning to make his presence known...or breaking the door in the process.
"Okay! But you sure it safe for me and CHeeta? Seems old. Seems burned. Kinda creaky." Nevertheless, Me walks in Cheetah reluctantly behind her.
As the door closes behind you, you hear a voice call from upstairs: "Up here. I'm glad you could make it. Do join us!"
It's a high, thin, reedy voice. It could belong to either a woman or a man.
A set of stairs is directly in front of you.
As the door closes behind you, you hear a voice call from upstairs: "Up here. I'm glad you could make it. Do join us!"
It's a high, thin, reedy voice. It could belong to either a woman or a man.
A set of stairs is directly in front of you.
As the door closes behind you, you hear a voice call from upstairs: "Up here. I'm glad you could make it. Do join us!"
It's a high, thin, reedy voice. It could belong to either a woman or a man.
A set of stairs is directly in front of you.
"Oh yes, quite safe." The voice is amused by the question.
Climbing the stairs, you find yourself in one of the few remaining rooms that is not open to the elements. Toppled bookshelves, a table, and some chairs half-covered in ivy suggest this room was once a library. The ashes and pulp of burned, waterlogged books lay heaped amid fallen furniture, creating a large nest of sorts against one wall.
A set of folding paper screens divides the room. A lantern flickers on the opposite side, projecting the silhouette of a shadowy figure sitting in a high-backed chair upon the thin paper.
Dozing in the nest of paper is a catlike, spiny creature. It raises its head sleepily when Cheetah enters the room, but then dozes off again, one eye open.
The voice from behind the screen addresses you: "Do sit. Now that we are all here, perhaps we should introduce ourselves."
Hm. Others? Not a solo job, then. The cat could probably help get rid of a Halfling corpse, though.
Eliphas sighed audibly as he took a look at the others present.
And nobody wants to start the introductions...just as well
Taking one step forward instead of sitting down, he pointed his Scythe at the Silhouette projected on the folding Screen:"Introductions may be in order, but it's you who should start with one. If we are all here by invitation, you seem to have done your research on us, so lets first fix this information deficit where none of us know anything about you, before we get all cozy with one another."
Eliphas had travelled a whole day to arrive here...and he had not come to play games and introduce himself like a school kid new to class. Their mystery host obviously meant to keep his real identity hidden, but all the same, he could certainly share some information...
The roughly-humanoid-shaped pool of shadow in the corner stayed quiet for the time being. The mysterious individual who had summoned her had gathered a very interesting-looking assortment of people here. The Cloaked One preferred to let others do the talking ... for now.
Me stands close to Cheetah. She was not expecting others to be there. Their friend hadn't mentioned that. Her speech became growls as she addressed Cheetah privately. Cheetah casually growls back, glaring at the catlike creature in the corner. "What is faceless cat? Cheetah wants to know if it is friend too."
The creature is a krenshar: a strange creature that resembles a large but earless hunting cat, save that it can retract the fur and skin on its face to reveal the glistening skull and musculature underneath. Combined with its strange, keening wail, this horrifying display is enough to paralyze prey and send formidable opponents running.
The creature is a krenshar: a strange creature that resembles a large but earless hunting cat, save that it can retract the fur and skin on its face to reveal the glistening skull and musculature underneath. Combined with its strange, keening wail, this horrifying display is enough to paralyze prey and send formidable opponents running.
Krenshar’s retractable skin allows it to dine on carrion with a lower risk of picking up disease-carrying vermin, much like a vulture’s bare head and neck. When the creature finishes eating, restoring the facial skin to its normal position scrapes off gore and clinging bugs. The ability to retract their skin is demonstrated in other contexts as well—male krenshars bare their skulls at rivals as a challenge over mates, females use this ability to ward off undesired suitors, and hunting Adults use it to scare prey into ambushes.
Though krenshars generally prefer to stalk herd animals like deer or cattle, they have no qualms about taking on humanoids when food is scarce. They average 4 to 5 feet in length and weigh approximately 175 pounds.
The creature is a krenshar: a strange creature that resembles a large but earless hunting cat, save that it can retract the fur and skin on its face to reveal the glistening skull and musculature underneath. Combined with its strange, keening wail, this horrifying display is enough to paralyze prey and send formidable opponents running.
Krenshar’s retractable skin allows it to dine on carrion with a lower risk of picking up disease-carrying vermin, much like a vulture’s bare head and neck. When the creature finishes eating, restoring the facial skin to its normal position scrapes off gore and clinging bugs. The ability to retract their skin is demonstrated in other contexts as well—male krenshars bare their skulls at rivals as a challenge over mates, females use this ability to ward off undesired suitors, and hunting Adults use it to scare prey into ambushes.
Though krenshars generally prefer to stalk herd animals like deer or cattle, they have no qualms about taking on humanoids when food is scarce. They average 4 to 5 feet in length and weigh approximately 175 pounds.
Scholars have long debated the confusing nature of krenshar intelligence. While clearly more intelligent than mere animals, the creatures seem to lack all but the most rudimentary language of snarls and yowls, and aside from the scare tactics that make them notorious, tend to behave much like mundane cats or wolves, even going so far as to occasionally be befriended by rangers or druids. Those who deny krenshars’ intelligence, however, need only look into their strange violet eyes or observe the ease with which they manipulate and outmaneuver their prey to realize their folly—an error few make twice.
The silhouetted figure gestures an arm towards the half-dozing creature: "Her name is Gaurig. And you may call me Razelago. As for who I am, well... I'm a businessman, primarily. One with a particular interest in Longacre, and one with the capital to pay for the changes I’d like to see. And to pre-empt your next question, my business is in organization, development, administration... I do a bit of it all. There are many small, aimless towns like Longacre about the nation. I’d like to see them strive for greater."
"Which brings us, in a roundabout fashion, to you. You all have potential, and all of you are at the moment... on the outside, for reasons that are of course your own. I would like to offer you a chance to strive for greater, by working together as a team. I have a job to offer you, one which pays well, by any standard."
"But I think that I have now introduced myself. Perhaps it is time for you to do the talking."
Me's eyes glaze over somewhere around the "interest in Longacre". She doesn't even attempt to understand the shady man. She did catch job and money though. "So you called me. Who's the bad guy who needs beating up?"
Eliphas looks at Me shocked in mock surprise:"I certainly hope we are not here just to beat someone up.", before continuing irritated, addressing their host:"If my blade does not get to drink it's fill, your payment best make up for that twice over, Razelago."
Turning to the others, he presents his front. The man was tall and very pale. His armor, featuring decorative parts with spikes and ornaments, glints in a greenish black and seems to have seen some use.
His weapon of choice is a two-handed War Scythe, designed to apply force using leverage as multiplier...in a messy way that is capable of separating limbs or eviscerating a target with a single good hit. On the side opposite of the blade, a skull-decorated fly made of metal serves to reinforce the Heel and Tang.
Holding it in one hand, he looks at the others in turn:"My name is Eliphas. I have quite the experience at working together for being paid. I am a mercenary, and the fact I have been called here in this way tells me that there's more to this job than our host revealed so far. I take pride in my work, and I have little patience for people who let morals get in the way of efficiency. So if you see me doing something you don't approve of, best look the other way."
Seemingly done, the man sits down on his chair and stares at the others.
Me smiles at Eliphas. "I see you also have an animal friend. And I don't know. Killing people for killing sake has never been a good thing. There must be a good reason for us to beat people up right? My name is Me. This is Cheetah;" Cheetah hisses at Eliphas. "We work together to bring bad guys to justice." She does an awkward bow.
The shadow continued to watch and observe. The Urgathoan mercenary was fascinating. Everything about him seemed designed to elicit the maximum amount of fear. He was worth getting to know. The tiger woman was incredibly unintelligent, but every group needed an expendable lackey to take the fall.
Willing the shadows away for a moment, a small figure wrapped in an inky black cloak revealed itself. Its face was masked with pure shadow. "They call me the Cloaked One. I'm sure that if Razelago wants us to beat up someone, they deserve it." After all, if someone was too weak to defend themselves, they deserved the fear that was to come. "I'd like to hear more about this job."
The tiefling woman has remained standing, partly because she's unsure if she is going to stay; but mostly because she doesn't want to ruin her one last good remaining dress by sitting on this floor.
She looks at the others, doing her best to take their measure. She effortlessly identifies the krenshar, and ignores the philosophical talk on morality. It seems out of place in this house.
"My name is Neryssa. I am an alchemist and I have some skill with magic. And Razelago is right about one thing: I for one have seen better days and would like to ... strive for greater, as he put it."
She nods at the small, shadowy figure, trying to guess a little more about it. Not a slip, judging by the feet. Perhaps a gnome? No matter, she will find out more in time, no doubt. "I agree. I think it's time to hear about this job."
The silhouette spreads its arms. "Very well. Your first job is a test, to see how you work together and whether this enterprise has a future. Understand that, and all will be well."
"On the other side of town from here there is a tannery, run by a man named Louslik. For a number of reasons I would like to see him impoverished. I want you to break in to his office, and steal his valuables. Bring them back here to me by this time tomorrow."
"How you do this is up to you."
Eliphas smiled at the woman...not the brightest one, it seems:"Oh, be assured I only kill for very good reasons..." ...Such as my personal pleasure, or worship of my Mistress, or to feed Stinger with the flesh of sentient creatures... - he reached into a little pouch and withdrew a tiny piece of jerky he then offered to the Scorpion, who began devouring it instantly.
As the others introduced themselves, Eliphas stared at them, unblinking.
A shadowy little fuzzball that says nothing about itself, and an ambitious tiefling, together with birdbrain over there. This will be fun. In a very strange way.
When Razelago spoke up again, he followed his words very carefully...knowing he was unclear before, with failing to define which "midnight" he wanted to see them here...Best to ask...
"You want to see him impoverished, or you want what is his? I guess what I'm asking is...is Mr. Louslik to survive at all costs? To be clear, i'm a professional, so this is not about joy, but I am worried about Witnesses - would not do to learn your reasons required this very bad person to suffer being impoverished after the deed is done...and then, despite this being a test, there is the matter of payment to discuss."
A soft sigh comes from behind the screen. "Very well. Jabral Louslik hasn’t been paying his fair share of taxes. Beyond that, he is also very opinionated. He’d oppose the cooperation I’d like to see among Longacre’s people. I’d prefer that his influence be weakened — and, after all, no one trusts a poor man.”
"Since you explicitly asked, I believe that I would prefer him alive and impotently impoverished, rather than dead and martyred, but..." the silhouetted figure waves an arm, dismissively "as I say, I leave your methods up to you."
"As for payment, I pay generously. One hundred in gold for what is barely an evening's work."
"One hundred each."
Neryssa licks her lips nervously - she hasn't been living in a shack by choice; she spent most of the last of her coin on the alchemical reagents that power her magic. 100 gold is more than she has seen in years.
Can she really afford to be picky? No. No, she cannot.
"I'm in."
Eliphas shrugs: "100 gold is good enough. He will remain alive. If he sees us, we can always blind, elinguate and crop him. Lets see him be opinionated then."
Turning to Me, he adds, in a soothing voice:"He is a very bad man and deserves that!"
Neryssa gives the armoured man a look out of the corner of her eye. "Or we could simply... wear masks. This is Cheliax, not Nidal: cruelty is a tool, not a pastime."
She gestures at the short stranger who referred to herself only as the Cloaked One. "Besides, it appears that our new companion here has skill in manipulation of darkness - she can prevent him from seeing us, I would imagine."
"But where's the fun in THAT, Tiefling. Seriously though, even with a mask, I would have to go naked to not offer any hints to my identity. Even if that's what you'd want, woman, it's not happening, because I would mind, feeling terribly vulnerable without my weapon and armor. So if you are worried for the man, best hope our shady companion has the capabilities you wish for. How about it, Cloaked One?"
Everything within 10ft of the shadow abruptly goes completely dark. After a few seconds, things return to their original illumination. "I can do a lot with shadows. I can also conjure simple illusions."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Me shifts uncomfortably. No doubt he is bad man. I mean, if my friend wants him to be poor then he must become poor. But maybe killing him? That's a lot of stuff to think about. She looks at cheetah making low growls. Cheetah responds with a hiss. "We are in. I can hurt bad guy really badly if we need but I don't kill him unless he attacks me. Then Cheetah will eat him. Good enough?"
When the little shadow person does her trick. Me claps excitedly. "Oh please do it again! That was a cool trick! This little shadow knows magic!"
The tiefling raises one eyebrow in reply: "I have a name. And if we are going for stealth, then maybe leaving that clanking armour behind would be the smart thing - unless you're going to be the distraction while the rest of us sneak in?"
She smiles at Me, seeing a potential ally there; she's about to ask Why do you call her Cheetah when she's a tiger? - but decides that this is not something that needs to be said right now. It would only confuse her. Instead she says only "Definitely good enough."
The silhouetted figure leans forward, nodding. "Excellent. It seems that we have a bargain. And now, Gaurig here needs her beauty sleep, so I suggest that you continue any discussion downstairs in the front room."
There's a short pause, and then the door behind you opens, soundlessly.
The hint is clear, and not quite subtle.
"If you want me to remember your name, you should proof your worth, Neryssa. And don't make silly suggestions like that."
Eliphas then turns to the Cloaked One: "That shadow trick will come in handy. Most people won't be able to see. How long can you maintain it without exerting yourself?"
Me frowns at Eliphas. "You're not a very nice person..." With that she walks to the door. Cheetah, again, hisses at Eliphas.
"As long as necessary, but doing so requires a great deal of focus. If I leave it unattended, the effect ends after a minute."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"That will be more than enough. An excellent tool."
Looking at Me leaving, Eliphas speaks to her back:"I am a very nice person. To friends. I just don't pretend to be nice to strangers. People who pretend so lie to you. And friends don't do that. Think on that."
Me looks back confused. "You say strange things. Friends are friends. I understand to be nice to friends but nice to people get you things. Right?"
She stands in the doorway, blocking the entrance.
"No, taking things gets you things. We sow, and we harvest. We don't hope nature will provide for us in winter. Reward comes from action. That is why the strong rule, decide and change things, and the weak serve, suffer and endure. It's the natural order of things. Being nice does not factor into that, so I don't burden myself with it most of the time. I tell things the way I see them, even if it's not nice. Instead, I am honest. That is what you have friends for. The common folk can lie to you all day long, whispering pleasantries or pretending to like you...but those people who tell you the truth, even if you don't want to hear it, those are your friends - not those who would lie to your face to tell you what you wish to hear."
Better to tell her that we are all friends, not just colleagues...wouldn't want her to turn sides when things go bad and sick that cat on me because she things I'm a "bad person"...ha, if she knew.
Nyrissa swishes her tail angrily at Eliphas, and stalks downstairs to the front room of the ruined house.
Me and Cheetah smile as Neryssa enters the room. "So we need to make bad guy pay, right? How do we do that? Im no good at planning things."
Eliphas waits for the third one to follow the two ladies, then looks back at Razelago once more, before heading down as well, pondering: Though audience, that. Oh well, not my area of expertise anyway. If anybody knows about burglary, it's probably the shadowy gnome or the Tiefling...they should plan, I'll clean up if they mess up...otherwise, easy money for standing guard.
Downstairs, he'll stand next to the stair, leaning against the wall with hands crossed and staring at the others, clearly showing with his body language that he does not intend to participate in the conversation, but is paying attention.
The moral debate regarding social niceties and the nature of friendship bored the Cloaked One, who stalked quietly downstairs after Neryssa. Once everyone was assembled, it spoke up quietly. "So we're to burgle a tannery. Has anyone heard of this Jabral Louslik? Also, while I'd prefer a stealthy in-and-out, I suspect Eliphas here favors the smash-and-grab approach. What say the rest of you?" A brief pause. "And how well-trained is the tiger?"
There was no need to correct the small one...Eliphas WOULD have favored that approach...if not for their employer pretty clearly stating that the target should survive.
If he was to receive 100 Gold for standing outside a Tannery for a couple minutes, then he would accept that fate. There would be enough chances for bloodshed, soon enough.
Neryssa smiles back at Me, and at her tiger. She doesn't like people much, but animals are ok. Most of the time, anyway.
She makes a few cat-type noises at Cheetah, trying to see if she can get close without getting her hand bitten off.
At the cloaked gnome's question, she frowns slightly, trying to remember what she knows.
"The tannery's a big part of the local economy, and Louslik runs it. He's a good employer, they say, and gives a lot to the local church..." She trails off, trying to think of something relevant to their task. "Uh, it's mostly closed at night. Louslik lives there, but it's otherwise mostly empty. There's a couple local weirdos who pick up the 'night soil' from town and take it over there after dark, but that seems like our best time rather than trying anything during the day."
She looks around. "Maybe one of us could do a quick scout round during the day, try and get the layout of the place?"