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Liath claps Rusker on the shoulder with a laugh. "Think on it not, good ranger. All is well so long as I kept my gambeson on!"
'I did keep my gambeson on, right?'
"Oh, good Tiasar, this might be extremely interesting, or quite boring, but either way you should have something to write about."
Liath leads the trio South, to the Temple, seeking audience with Father Cadd of the Gold Order.
Barbie wakes up at first light. She completes her morning routine, which now includes her magic since it gives her a sense of security, and immediately after breakfast she goes to the castle to talk to the scribe, hoping to find out what really happened to Hugo.
You get to the castle gates about the time a man dressed as a courier is walking through. He gives you a double take and looks at you surprised. "Wow. You are good. Guess that's why the Lord is requesting an audience. Here you go. First one down," he says handing you the summons mentioned earlier. He then bounds off to find the others as he was told. "I thought wizards were supposed to be late," comments one of the guards that was watching. "Aren't you a little early?" he says to you. Apparently they all thought you somehow divined that you would be summoned and have thus showed up early. Neither of them are the ones you met yesterday so they don't know you were looking for your brother.
You tell them otherwise and one goes off to see if the court scribe is available. He comes back some minutes later and says you can see him. Leaving any weapons behind, you enter the castle through a side door and meander through a confusing maze of halls. A lack of upkeep is obvious throughout most of the halls and rooms you can see and very few people pass you along the way. Finally you reach what you can only assume to be the scribe's office. He is a thin man with owlish features and a perpetual squint from reading near illegible messages for years. He looks up at you through a pair of glasses resting on his nose. "Aren't you early? I thought wizards were supposed to be late?" Apparently Bastion has a skewed image of wizards.
Liath claps Rusker on the shoulder with a laugh. "Think on it not, good ranger. All is well so long as I kept my gambeson on!"
'I did keep my gambeson on, right?'
"Oh, good Tiasar, this might be extremely interesting, or quite boring, but either way you should have something to write about."
Liath leads the trio South, to the Temple, seeking audience with Father Cadd of the Gold Order.
The three of you arrive at the temple to see it is in the same state as most of the city: dirty windows, chipped stone and a general uncleanliness. You can image that the twin dragons coiling around the pillars at the entrance would have once been a stunning sight but it is dulled by the fact that one is missing part of a wing and the other almost all its tail. The inside seems slightly better cared for. Through the doors you can see alters to most of the major gods in alcoves on the sides but straight ahead is an alter to Bahamut that dwarfs them all. A single acolyte is sweeping the floor in a mechanical fashion until you arrive. He instantly perks up at seeing guest and hops over to you. "Welcome travelers, to the temple of Bahamut. How can I help? Potions? Scrolls? Healing? I am at your service."
The summon all but forgotten, Barbie suddenly snaps:
"Good morning sir. Wizards may be late, as you say, but sisters who are worried sick for their brothers don't have that luxury. I'm looking for my brother, his name is Hugo Schmidt and he was sent here about six months ago... as a draftee. I've come to Bastion to find him and now nobody seems to know ANYTHING about him! Perhaps the papers in your office might hold some clue to WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM and WHERE HE IS NOW???"
Barbie's cheeks are glowing red from the tirade. Afraid her vehemence may hinder her cause, she lowers her gaze and adds, in a much lower tone:
"Please, sir. He's everything I've got left in this world."
Once Jorn wakes, bathes and eats, he heads out to the barn to check on Tyr.
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"Greetings," answers Liath, ignoring the sales-man opening in a manner that is at least not un-friendly. "I am Warpriest Liath Gwenilian, newly arrived to Bastion. May I have your name, sir?"
After getting the minimum greeting out of the way, she continues to the real business.
"It is my understanding that Bastion was once a great and prosperous city. And Bahamut willing it will be again. Go and inform Father Cadd that we beg his indulgence to state to us the tactical and strategic situation around and about the city, and what his future plans are. We shall wait upon an answer, but we have an evening meeting with Lord Markov so we can not wait all day.
Oh," she adds, almost as an after thought, "feel free to let the good Father know that if the Gold Order can not restore glory to Bastion, the Silver Order would like to take its turn."
The summon all but forgotten, Barbie suddenly snaps:
"Good morning sir. Wizards may be late, as you say, but sisters who are worried sick for their brothers don't have that luxury. I'm looking for my brother, his name is Hugo Schmidt and he was sent here about six months ago... as a draftee. I've come to Bastion to find him and now nobody seems to know ANYTHING about him! Perhaps the papers in your office might hold some clue to WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM and WHERE HE IS NOW???"
Barbie's cheeks are glowing red from the tirade. Afraid her vehemence may hinder her cause, she lowers her gaze and adds, in a much lower tone:
"Please, sir. He's everything I've got left in this world."
You can see the little man building up defenses to deny your request but he deflates in the end. He sighs and looks at his desk full of papers. "The name doesn't ring a bell but I'll see what I can turn up for dinner. As that note says the Lord would like to speak with you."
Then as an afterthought. "But don't get too hopeful. I have a lot of work to do."
"Greetings," answers Liath, ignoring the sales-man opening in a manner that is at least not un-friendly. "I am Warpriest Liath Gwenilian, newly arrived to Bastion. May I have your name, sir?"
After getting the minimum greeting out of the way, she continues to the real business.
"It is my understanding that Bastion was once a great and prosperous city. And Bahamut willing it will be again. Go and inform Father Cadd that we beg his indulgence to state to us the tactical and strategic situation around and about the city, and what his future plans are. We shall wait upon an answer, but we have an evening meeting with Lord Markov so we can not wait all day.
Oh," she adds, almost as an after thought, "feel free to let the good Father know that if the Gold Order can not restore glory to Bastion, the Silver Order would like to take its turn."
"My apologies ma'am. I am Lucas. I will see if Father Cadd is not busy." And with that the robed man wanders off and through a door near the back of the temple. A minute passes and the acolyte comes back with another man. He wears the same robes as the first but with stole around his neck and dropping close to the floor. It bears the both the holy symbol of Bahamut and the insignia, a gold dragon carrying a banner with the Draconic words for Wisdom and Guidance. A momentary look of annoyance passes across his face as he spots Liath. Silver. And a self-righteous one by the looks of it.
"I am Father Cadd, head priest here in Bastion. I assume you are Liath of the Silver Order," he inclines his head at Liath. "And who might your friends be?"
More delay! Oh gods... But wait, what did he say? The Lord would like to speak with ME? Why in the heavens would he want that?
"So... I'll see you tonight at dinner, I guess? Your help will be much appreciated, good sir. Thank you."
Barbie reluctantly leaves the scribe's office and finds her way back to the tavern to meet Liath.
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Tiasar looks with mild disappointment at the temple. You would think they would at least keep the temples in good order. His ears perk up at the mention of scrolls, but he knows he doesn't have the money on hand to afford any.
When Father Cadd comes out Tiasar gives a slight inclination of his head. "Tiasar Auvreathem, Ms.Gwenilian and I traveled here together."
Jusker sweeps one arm to the side and bows. "Jusker Ragnos. I grew up here many years ago." He inclines his head toward Tiasar. "Bodyguard to him, and..." He looks at Liath. "Well, something or other to her."
Cadd looks surprised at Tiasar. "Are you a relative of Kathar Auvreathem? The one that founded the school, Throaira, nearby?" At an affirmative he continues, apparently headless of the other two, while leading Tiasar through the temple. "I was wondering when one of his kin would drop by. Haven't been many. They have quite the monument to him in the courtyard. It was thanks to him that we even have the wards that prevent the strange creatures that live in the mountains from destroying us. Some teens stand with their backs to the wards at night as a kind of courage test nowadays. We've lost more than a few that way. Not everything is stopped. Usually its weaker creatures and undead that make it through. We try to remain on guard but with the recent attacks, supplies have thinned. The caravan you were on was the first in many weeks to make it. All the others were looted or driven off. I hear you played a part in its success." He leads the group to a common room in the back with comfortable chairs and tables. He gives a signal to Lucas who runs off to get some snacks and drinks while you talk.
Tiasar gives a proud smile. "Indeed, I am Kathar's descendant."
"It's a shame that the wards have gone down, and it's precisely why I'm here. It's only right that one of Kathar's blood comes to fix the barriers her set up, although I am nowhere near the caster he was." Yet.
"That seems to be a misnomer. That or you don't mean all of them. Either way, sometimes it needs to be clarified that it wasn't all the wards that failed. Only the ones within the range. The border wards remain strong though it seems odd. It is the reason for the cities decline. Bastion used to prosper as the only land trade route available south. There used to be a lot of traffic and this city was grand indeed. But the death of your ancestor meant the slow decay of Bastion. No more trade meant we were nothing more than an outpost and the paltry caravans that still went through were not enough to support the city. But even they have stopped almost completely and I doubt your one will make a difference," he says sullenly.
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"Of course. If all the wards failed I would hope that much more than just me would have come."
Tiasar nods, already anticipating the underestimation of him. "Well, I cannot predict how I can make a change, but failing to at least attempt would be a dishonor to Kathar's memory and everybody that made Bastion possible."
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"Quite true, friend Tiasar, quite true. And that is exactly what we should talk about today. Quite simply, Father Cadd, can you bring us up to date on the status of the threats around the city, as well as the efforts you have taken to combat them?
Perhaps, if you illuminated us on the current strength of the church and the city guard, by comparing it against the strength we encountered on the road, we could form a plan of attack?
Surely you must see the importance of ensuring that more caravans make it through? With more supplies would come greater security, which would bring more settlers, with more caravans, with more supplies, with more security?
And the best way to do that is not to hide here, nor wait patiently on a caravan, but to go out and hunt down the bandits in whatever hole they hide in.
For starters, something easy we could do is cut some steps into the walls of the the Valley at some intervals. If the bandits were not in such an advantageous potion on those high walls, I think that would significantly increase caravan survive-ability.
I realize that the bandits are but one side of the danger, with the undead on the other, but let us take one threat at a time."
Jusker nods. "I've got some experience with undead. Once we've made the road safe from bandits, I can help you clear out the ones in the mountains." He pauses. "Though, of course... not for free."
Stalkid had taken to sleeping in the barn with Tael, snuggling in under her wing. He runs in for a quick bit of breakfast and was just finishing his fruit when he received his letter. With a quick flash he read it's contents and had to stifle a laugh as he shoved the meats into his bag for Tael. With a wave of thanks to the Bartender, Stalkid runs off to the barn to feed Tael and tell her of their invitation.
"Quite true, friend Tiasar, quite true. And that is exactly what we should talk about today. Quite simply, Father Cadd, can you bring us up to date on the status of the threats around the city, as well as the efforts you have taken to combat them?
Perhaps, if you illuminated us on the current strength of the church and the city guard, by comparing it against the strength we encountered on the road, we could form a plan of attack?
Surely you must see the importance of ensuring that more caravans make it through? With more supplies would come greater security, which would bring more settlers, with more caravans, with more supplies, with more security?
And the best way to do that is not to hide here, nor wait patiently on a caravan, but to go out and hunt down the bandits in whatever hole they hide in.
For starters, something easy we could do is cut some steps into the walls of the the Valley at some intervals. If the bandits were not in such an advantageous potion on those high walls, I think that would significantly increase caravan survive-ability.
I realize that the bandits are but one side of the danger, with the undead on the other, but let us take one threat at a time."
"I think the state of this city is plain enough. Without the trade route, this city cannot support the population. Many still call this home and refuse to leave. But because this place is nothing more than an outpost against the random beast that crosses the wards, the guard has been reduced to a point that cannot fight against the current dilemma. The bandits are smart and the forest around us is large. They are well organized and hide well. The guard is not large enough to find them or flush them out. They have tried."
For those with Liath:
Liath, as a member of the Silver Order knows this already.
Once Jorn wakes, bathes and eats, he heads out to the barn to check on Tyr.
Unsurprising to you, Tyr seems to be getting along well with the horses and the large bird that is the masked kid's companion. What is more surprising is that said druid is there talking animatedly to his companion in druidic.
Jorn walks over to Tyr and pets the pup on the head, before offering a handful of the jerky he'd brought to the tyrannosaurus. "'at's a good boy," the dwarf says, to which Tyr growls happily and munches on the preserved meat.
Turning to Stalkid and Tael, the druid says, "I guess we all got one o' those invitations. Sounds like it might be interestin', yeah? At th' worst, it's a free meal."
Hm. Maybe coming with her on this little excursion wasn't such a good idea. Though Jusker would readily take up temporary employment here in Bastion if it meant real gold, it doesn't sound like gold is what Liath is after.
A breathless Barbie comes rushing to the temple's door.
"Good morning, sir, I'm looking for lady Liath Gwenilian, she was supposed to meet your superior this morning, a father... Cadd, if memory serves me well? I should have come with her but I had business at the castle that took me forever to settle... I would be very grateful if you could kindly take me to her. Please?"
A breathless Barbie comes rushing to the temple's door.
"Good morning, sir, I'm looking for lady Liath Gwenilian, she was supposed to meet your superior this morning, a father... Cadd, if memory serves me well? I should have come with her but I had business at the castle that took me forever to settle... I would be very grateful if you could kindly take me to her. Please?"
The acolyte looks at Barbie a little dumbfounded but points towards a door in the back. When you enter you catch the ass end of the conversation about the state of Bastion.
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As Barbie enters, a thought strikes Liath, and she turns back to Cadd.
"I shall assume, for sake of argument, that all your other efforts failed because of lack of power, not lack of valor. What kind of force could the Church of Bahamut muster if it was leavened with a ranger and 2 spellcasters?"
A heartbeat passes, and she spares a sidelong glance at Jusker.
"And could the vaults stand taking on the salaries of such?"
She turns and address Jusker, Barbie, and Tiasar. "I do not mean to speak for all of you, but it seems that as long as we are here, we could do far worse than set about a do something that the historians of ages would look back upon and say that THIS was the day that Bastion's fortune turned for the better."
"Father Cadd, I only ask because, as this is state of the city that I now enter, for whatever motives the mayor may have, I would trust them far more if the Church had at least an equal stake, or even took the spearhead."
"And could the vaults stand taking on the salaries of such?"
He smiles. "No doubt they could, love. Though I'll admit, what they say about this years from now doesn't concern me much. The historians can say what they please, I won't be around to hear it."
Barbie's expression is clearly one of "Wait, what?", but she doesn't want to ruin her chance of getting a job, so she decides to stay quiet for the moment and see where this is all going.
"That is all I know and the only who could afford to pay someone for such a service would be the Lord of Bastion. We might be able to scrounge up a potion or two but that would be all. And if we are done I should return to my duties. It is just me and Lucas here and there is a lot to do." If there are no more questions, Lucas shows you out.
"That is all I know and the only who could afford to pay someone for such a service would be the Lord of Bastion. We might be able to scrounge up a potion or two but that would be all. And if we are done I should return to my duties. It is just me and Lucas here and there is a lot to do." If there are no more questions, Lucas shows you out.
"On that subject sir, if I may... Perhaps your church would be willing to pay for a different kind of service, such as housekeeping and cooking? Or perhaps you know some house here in Bastion that would require such service? I'm young, but I'm experienced and willing to do my very best." Barbie is trying to display her best, most convincing smile despite her many worries:
"I bet you would be hasty too if you had no income, no place to go and exactly 1,5 gp in your pocket... sister!"
But of course Barbie's too shy to say it out loud, so she just patiently awaits father Cadd's answer.
Turning to Jorn Stalkid cocks his head to one side thoughtfully, "I knew that joining in with you would be interesting." He stifles a giggle before continueing, "It's too bad our companions will have to stay outside." He nods to both Tyr and Tael.
"That is all I know and the only who could afford to pay someone for such a service would be the Lord of Bastion. We might be able to scrounge up a potion or two but that would be all. And if we are done I should return to my duties. It is just me and Lucas here and there is a lot to do." If there are no more questions, Lucas shows you out."On that subject sir, if I may... Perhaps your church would be willing to pay for a different kind of service, such as housekeeping and cooking? Or perhaps you know some house here in Bastion that would require such service? I'm young, but I'm experienced and willing to do my very best." Barbie is trying to display her best, most convincing smile despite her many worries:
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20 + 0;
The man sighs and considers it. "We might, Might, be able hire someone to clean up so that we can focus on trying to repair and restore the temple. But this place is large and we couldn't offer much, barely a livable wage but I doubt you could do any better. You'd have a better chance selling your skills as a wizard than a maid."
Jorn shrugs. "Tyr don't mind, do ya boy?" The infant tyrannosaurus replies with a low, happy growl, nuzzling his over-sized head into the dwarf's flank.
The day passes by and you all meet at the castle for dinner. As written, the guards at the gate take away all weapons, even going so far as to remove holy symbols, component pouches, and searching for hidden weapons.
The animal companions are also asked to stay outside but you are promised that they will receive food and shelter. On the inside the castle seems to be the only building that is being somewhat maintained. The floors are swept, the rugs beaten, and the furniture polished. Conditions are spartan though and you get the feeling the Lord here has been making his own sacrifices for the city, though obviously not as many. Still, he can set a table when the need arises. And apparently it has.
You are lead through a large double door and into a large dinning room. It looks like it could hold several large tables but only one is set and ready for you. After you are seated a feast is brought in and laid before you. Pork, beef, chicken, fruit, cheeses and a decent selection of beverages. It looks fantastic. You get a moment to look over the feast before the host arrives and seats himself at the head of the table. The man is tall and lean and decked in a fine silk suit with clean leather boots and wool vest. He is balding in his old age but still maintains an air of youth. A pair of spectacles rests on the bridge of his nose and his eyes measure everyone in the room quickly. He gives no hint of his judgments as he smiles and welcomes you. "Good evening and thank you for answering my summon for dinner. I won't beat around the bush. I imagine you have already divined that I have ulterior motives for this evening but first food. Then we can discuss the state affairs here. Hmm?" He then sits and begins to eat, gesturing for you to do as well.
Barbie, pale and thin in her scholar outfit, pecks at her food absent-mindedly. She has spent what was left of the day before dinner roaming the streets of Bastion looking for a job, to no avail aside from a few, unconvincing "come back in a few days, we'll see what we can do".
It looks like this dinner is indeed her only concrete hope of getting a job (although not one she would have considered under normal circumstances), so she's quite anxious to hear what the Lord has to say.
Every now and then though, her gaze shifts towards the main door, hoping to see the scribe's thin frame, with good news about Hugo.
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Tiasar looks around the dining room. Ah, now this is how to live. Before things go much further, he quickly whispers to Morde. [smaller]"We're in a higher society setting, be on your best behavior. And try not to fly around so much." He smiles a moment at the feast, then frowns. They have the resources to bring us a feast, but not to better Bastion? The young wizard's attention is turned to who he assumes is Lord Markov. It takes Tiasar all of two seconds to realize this man's social grace and subtleties are going to fly way over his head. He decides to take words at face value, for now.
Tiasar gives the man a traditional elven bow, a sign of respect to elders or ones in power. "Greetings Lord Markov, it is my pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Tiasar sits and compiles a small plate of fruit and cheeses, seeming to arrange them in a very specific manner, and on the side he sits a single piece of beef. He starts experimenting with different fruit and cheese combinations, a habit he's picked up since learning of the various cheeses that humans make.
Morde is normally a statue on Tiasar's shoulder, appearing more carving than live bird, but as Tiasar puts the little piece of beef on his plate the dark raven starts fidgeting, opens his wings halfway, then closes them and pecks at Tiasar's left ear. Anybody that's paid any attention to the bird notices it's always on the wizard's left shoulder, next to the ear that appears to have been bitten off. Tiasar doesn't flinch at the harsh peck, calmly raising his hand and transporting Morde to the table where the raven starts pecking at the beef.
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Liath tucks in to the sumptuous spread, silently heeding the suggestion of food first and then talk.
When she moment seems right, she washes her throat with a sip of water and broaches the subject that Lord Markov left hanging.
"You are correct, sir. There have been wide opinions levied about your motivation for hosting us. While we have many questions for you regarding Bastion's current situation, would you do us the honor of going first? Surely we will be better to communicate with all the cards on the table?"
After the meal is done the food is removed.
He then looks to all of you and starts in a business-like tone. "I won't mince words at this point. I don't have that luxury. Consider the food a bribe cause it is the best we have to offer right now. I even saved it for just such an occasion. Your help might have saved the people of this town. The kingdom thinks they should move on. The temple, the school, the town. All of it. Without the trade route this place is a drain on resources but people can be stubborn. Supplies, men, money all of it has been cut back. We no longer have the resources to deal with the problem at hand. But you might. As you are probably aware, bandits have us in a vise-grip. Traders are attacked or turned away from every route here and many are going around now. And without their support, the stubborn people of this town are likely to waste away. I don't want to see that happen. So that is why I reached out to you all. From what I heard you played a pivotal role in seeing to the arrival of the first caravan we have seen in weeks. And now I am asking you to finish the job. Their are still many of them out there, maybe even some within. But unless they are taken care of, they will drain this city of everything its worth. I can't offer much in return though. I am pretty much asking for you to do this out of the goodness of your heart and for whatever the bandits carry. Everything from them is yours and might prove valuable but I can offer little myself. So will you finish what you inadvertently started and save this city?"
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A bribe? Well that's...hmm...
Tiasar leans back, carefully considering. I remember Mr.Ragnos complaining of the cost of weapons and armor, there can be some money to make there. In addition it would be much easier, including safer, to conduct my research on the wards without the interference of bandits. Also having a figure of importance indebted to me can be invaluable. Of course there's the risk involved, but proper planning can mitigate the chances of serious injury...
After a solid two minutes of sitting silently, Tiasar clears his throat and nods. "Yes, I will do what I can to help." Morde punctuates this with a "Caw!", going back to peck at his piece of beef.
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Liath pounds the table. "Ah ha! That's what I like to hear! Of course, your Lordship, the Silver Order has heard your plea and I place myself at your disposal. What is first in your plan of attack?" It somewhat unclear if Liath means to sound like a warmonger, or if she's just trying to be enthusiastic.
Jorn runs a hand through his beard, pondering the Lord's request. At Liath's overly enthusiastic response, he frowns a bit. "As yer pro'ly aware," the dwarf addresses Markov, "There's a load o' 'em. It'll likely take more than jus' the handful o' us." Though he's clearly not outright turning him down, the druid has very obvious reservations. "Unless ya got a trump card up yer sleeve, that is."
Barbie has understood one thing out of the Lord's speech: *no money here*. She looks at Tiasar's and Liath's eager faces and can't help but think Don't these people have to work for a living?