As does Cole...
Venssa again keeps out of the way of the general crowd. She attempts to quietly blend into the background.
Stealth:
Oops...wrong Cole...
For a moment, you could swear you see someone familiar. Too familiar. But it's out of the corner of your eye, and about the same time as you spy an ominous mask peeking from underneath the cloak of one of the patrons. With your attention split, by the time you look back to either place, both your discoveries have fled. Were they the over-active imagination of a boy who shouldn't be out adventuring, or is something weird going on?
There are a few people that you suspect might be rangers, but no one who you would match to the description you were given. It's hard to look effectively without drawing attention.
Getting people involved seems to work splendidly, they're seeing the bawdy lyrics along with you, those nearby at least, though some seem to be eyeing you with thoughts at something more.
Even in the city, you're well practiced at keeping unnoticed. In a room built for big folk, and flush with heavy tables, it's easy to use the heavy wooden structures for a bit of shelter.
It's easy to get lost in the conversations and din of the hall, especially with the whispers in your head, anxious, determined. What are they saying? Normally they're so clear!
Leering eyes are by no means new to Aldelenna, it's part and parcel of her trade, and on occasion men's lust has brought her good fortune as she can use it to tease coin or information out of them. She must always remember though, as her mentor taught her, there's a point where teasing taken too far must give over to actual carnal pleasure, or it could lead to bodily harm. So knowing, she moves about the room a bit more as she plays. She swings her hips in that seductive way, that way that says, this is only a shadow of how I can move my hips between the sheets, hoping she'll get the attention of someone that knows a thing or six about where they might find Reginar.
Hansyns head constantly turns as he tries to take in too much and over whelks himself for a moment. Shaking his slightly he plops down on a bench in the Hall.
The assembled folk eager for food are more and more turning toward the seductive performance of Aldelenna, captured by every sway of her hip. While most are able to keep the pace of the bawdy songs, some are captive, merely mouthing the words, eyes captured by a seductive gaze, a twist of the hips, a twirl.
Between verses you can ask questions of the folks eating, your song has captured them well and you will have advantage on any persuasion checks you make to get information, but I need to know what questions you want to ask.
Familiar from back home.
Finlogan continues to play and follow Aldelenna around watching the audience more than his favorite swinging hips.
Fin does not appear to be doing Aldelenna's performance any favors. Normally a skillful flute player, today his performance is marked by jarring notes.
Perhaps Fin is simply overwhelmed by the number of woodsman and others who appear as though they might be rangers. Perhaps he's simply distracted by his favorite swinging hips and memories of times he felt that attraction might be something she desired as much as he did.
Perhaps it's a bit of jealousy, but it's hard not to notice the others worshiping the sway of Aldelenna's hips and the bounce of her bosum. That makes the one who simply studies her with interest rather than desire notable. Hair pulled back, with a scar over his lip... it's Reginar! He's here! You only saw him for a moment, where was he!
Discipline. It's been ingrained in you since you were a child, the result of rangers for parents, of expectations, of duty. It's these things that allow you to set aside the revelry and study the crowd. But you aren't the only one studying people in the crowd. The hooded cloak he wears isn't uncommon for a woodsman, but the scar over the lip leaves you little doubt. It's your contact, Reginar. And he's watching Aldelenna, and to a lesser degree Finlogan too, with interest. His eyes meet yours for only an instant, and then he's just a patron, singing a bawdy song along with everyone else.
Cole looks in Fin's direction and tilts his head in the direction of their quarry. He walks towards Reginar. When he arrives, he says in a low voice.
I'll buy you an ale, if there's somewhere we can talk in private?
Keeping out of the way, Venssa attempts to listen to the conversations going on around her.
Perception:
Reginar is a robust man, garbed in green and brown leather and cloaked in a large bearskin. A longbow sits against the table, always in easy reach. He laughs as Cole approaches, clearly discerning his attempt at a ruse has failed.
"Well met. I am Reginar Lacklan." He snaps his fingers for the serving maid's attention. "Sit. We have much to discuss."
Cole pulls a chair, and as he sits, he waves over Fin.
Well met, Reginar. I am Cole Hillman, and my group has been lookin' for you.
Taking a break from her performance, and sitting next to some of the 'customers' who seemed to enjoy her sashay, but also seemed respectable, Aldelenna asks: "Do you know the Ranger Reginar? What do you hear about him? Is he a good man, trustworthy?"
Venssa squats down and motions the little mouse to come to her.
"Here now little one...I bet you can tell me many things about this place, now can't you?"
Hansyn watches Cole wall over to the ranger-looking stranger and assumes that his companions are on the right path finding Reginar. Personally though his attention is quite divided as he simultaneously seems to be looking for someone else in the crowd.
Concerned that they may have been followed or are being spied upon, the boy moves to a better vantage point and watches those around his companions checking for threats or spies.
"Reginar?" They nod towards Cole. "Ain't that him, there, talkin to that big new feller?" They muse for a few moments, though privately Aldelenna suspects they're trying to guess whether she's quick with a dagger or they could cop a feel without her noticing. Men are scum in the cities too, it seems. "Oh, aye. A ranger, ain't he? Just not in the employ of Nirmathas any longer... heard the Pathfinders got their claws into him after he found that druid site in the wood. Still, his heart seems true enough. 'e always comes home to Tamran."
Aldelenna can see the moment of thought where the man decides better of risking a grab and edges closer instead. "Rangers always go away. Couldn't you do with a man as you could trust to stick around?"
The mouse doesn't seem to have much of a concept of time, but it seems that 'recently' there are many men with the same boots and garments that 'dust the ground' that interrupt the 'pleasant sounds.' Sometimes these booted ones are vicious. Others they simply disrupt the merriment that results in dropped food (and therefore feasting!)
Reginar gestures again to the benches around his table. "Well, sit. Got word some of... and here's the crazy words... Chosen of Kassen would be looking for me. That you?"
There it is again! You'd know that pompous gait anywhere. What in the nine hells is your brother doing in Tamran?
Venssa thanks her little friend and breaks off a bit of bread from her trail rations and gives it to the mouse.
"There you go little on. Stay safe and warm."
Aye, that would be us, but give it a moment to have the others gather 'round.
Cole stands and stares at every member of the party he can see, individually, as he motions them to the table.
Finlogan sees the sign and plays his flute over to Cole.
Aldelenna winks at the man that gave her a couple good pieces of information, and says, "Oh, aye, I could, if sticking around were what I was after. Just so happens, not sticking around is what I'm here for." She punctuates her sentence by quickly getting up and going over to the table where her friends have gathered surrounding Reginar. Once there, she looks to the ranger and says, "Heard tell you might be in the service of the Pathfinders. That true?"
Reginar raises an eyebrow. "Not much point in denying it, I suppose. I hear you had a problem with some tomb-robbers in Kassen. I fear coded messages only give me so much information. I gather the path has led you here to Tamran. Tell me more."
Hansyn slides to the table with the others, his mind clearly preoccupied with something else.
Seeing the others move to another table, Venssa quietly sneaks over to the table as well, again trying to keep out of the way of the bigger races.
Stealth:
Hansyn slides to the table with the others, his mind clearly preoccupied with something else.
Reginar watches to see you all sit. He looks at Cole and and Fin... "Oh, aye... you fit right in. Could be any rangers of the city coming in for the day." and a glance at Aldelenna "And you a lovely lass that could be found in any tavern, eyes a little wide with the new sights of the city of not. I wager you could teach these city boys a thing or two at that."[b/]
He sighs. [b]"I don't blame you for not wanting to talk about it. It's a plague bearing down on the city. Spreading too. I hear tell you found masks." He whispers the last word.
"Oi. Lass." he shouts to the serving maid. "Some drinks for the table. Already asked once, didn't I? My gnome friend will have some of the good water. None of that runoff swill. Something from the well." he flashes a smile at Venssa.
"So, you were all together. And these too... the boy too enraptured by the crowd and the man who is listening to something that I'm thinking we aren't hearing—are they with you too? Because if we're to speak about that scourge of which I made mention, it's best that only certain people hear such talk."
Aldelenna smiles at the roundabout compliment made with a, rather too, observant eye. "You're not wrong." She then looks to her comrades in arms, some long friends, some new, and says, to them all. "Perhaps retiring to some place more private would serve us all better? We've got rooms at The Gar's Last Meal. Perhaps we should head over there, and see if Puglas has a private parlor we can use?"
Hansyn feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he senses everyone looking at him. Slightly confused he turns to the others ”What? Did you ask me something? I think I saw...” Looking at the current company though, he decides to save his observation for later. ”Nevermind.”
The serving maids apparently heard Regnar this time, bringing trays of roasted boar, forest vegetables, and the promised ale.
"To hide in shadows and talk is more suspicious, and to the wrong people. It is only necessary to be mindful, to watch and know who is listening, and to talk below the roar of the tables. Which is why I sit always near the fire, at a table bordered by only one other, and furthest from the kitchen. Most will not hear, even if we talk gregariously."
The Pathfinder smiles. "Most will assume I discuss some forgotten treasure with you, and send you into danger in the wood. Your woodland friends, from the gnome who accompanies you, to the two seasoned rangers before me, enhance that view. Oh, some may follow, but listen? I think your boy, since it appears he is indeed with you, will spot any who seek to invade our privacy."
He looks to Aldelenna. "Now, storyteller. Be quick and weave for me the tale of the masks you found."
As is her style Aldelenna will, in fact, weave the story of their harrowing adventure from Kassen town to Kassen's tomb and back, including every detail, leaving nothing out. After all, what good can come of hiding the truth when the truth is what they seek? As she finishes her tale she says, "so, there you have it. What insight do you have into these matters? What direction to point our further investigation?"
Reginar listens intently and then leans back, drinking deeply.
"Thank ye, lass. That sort of interference, and so far afield, speaks of dark plots."
He thrums his fingers on the table. The noise from the other tables nearby seems to get louder.
"The masks, they came into Tamran as missionaries. Wasn't even two years ago. You'd not know it, the way they walk around town. They raised funds so fast, it was like the coffers of the city had simply opened for them. Then there was temple." Regnar shakes his head.
"Influence is what they're after, as much as money. You report something foul one the masks gets up to, as like as not, you'll be the one punished. The law hereabouts is turning a blind eye, even protecting the temple, watching it to protect it from thieves and interlopers."
He looks right at Aldelenna. "A few months ago, a group from the temple headed north. Journey took them about a month. Not so many of them made it back. Hurried right to the temple when they got here... so fast, it wasn't like them." He turns to Cole and Fin. "Through the wood, Kassen is about two weeks, each way. I'd guess those were your cultists."
Indeed, Kassen is two weeks or more overland, though at a punishing pace.
"That trip had consequences, I'm thinking. A cultist in blue robes, I think she's the leader, left just a week ago by boat, into the lake. Before you ask, the cultists are impossible to identify. Black robes, white robes, gray robes... too many of each to say. Blue robes? That's different. And the leaving, it had the same feel. Dark of night, noticed only by those who make their livings noticing things."
He takes a deep breath and bellows. "More ale lass."
He says nothing until the ale comes.
"You could find your answers in the temple. Maybe. But there's no way in. Not that any sane citizen would try."
Cole looks at Hansyn, then states at the person behind him.
Who's your friend, Hansyn?
Aldelenna spits out her ale along with bits of food when Rankev walks up, here of all places. "What in the nine hells?!" She exclaims. "I thought you were dead, or gone, or both. You've got a fair bit of explaining to do Mr. Davis. For starters where did you disappear to?"
Rankev?
Slightly annoyed with the noise of the table next to him, Hansyn’s focus was solidly on the ranger’s tale of masked clerics. Rankev’s tap brings surprises to the boys face as he turns to see his brother. It’s not clear though if Hansyn is more surprises at seeing his brother in this distant land or at not knowing someone was behind him. After a short pause ”I knew it had to be you.” a shrewd look comes across the boys face then ”I’m staying. Don’t even think about sending me back.”
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Rankev's face splits into a grin and he lets out a deep, care-free laugh. "Ha ha ha! Where have I been? Fishing! Would you believe it?"
Just then an older man comes along and brings Rankev a smooth, round glass filled with a slow-rolling brown liquid. "Here you are, sir."
"Gratitude, Captain Attero." The old man moves back a respectful distance.
Rankev takes a sip and continues. "When the folly of our betters became clear to me I knew I had to away. You must understand that my...our," he spares a glace at Hansyn, "family is as much the town as the town itself, and a debacle of this magnitude would have brought about -many- awkward questions for someone of my prodigious-yet-fragile stature. Quite simply, to stay and be seen as part of all...that, no matter how expertly I handled myself, would have done more damage politically than any benefit I might have gained. Hence, I chose the best of several bad choices."
He pauses to sip again. "A fast ship just happened to be sulking along the waters and I had my servants flag it down. Ever since then I've struck a deal with the local angler's guild. A few times I've deigned to suffer out on a ship and I lay wide a sorcerous net of slumber. The fish don't know what hit them and can be scooped up by the basket-full! It's symbiotic and fruitful...but dreadfully boring."
He pauses as if in ulfish thought. "I over heard that last. You're headed to the temple? If you'll have me, I'd like to help."
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Rankev examines Hansyn. Not looks, examines. "Leather armor, short sword, matched daggers. You're a...a...a thief. Well, I can't say I expected much more. Indeed, more the criminal me for expecting that someday you'd shake of your curse and take up some respectable, scholarly trade." By 'scholarly' we all know he means 'magical'.
"Still, you seem to have at least landed in good company. Perhaps we can still salvage something of you yet!" Rankev raises his glass and toasts Hansyn.
Right,so, it is to the temple we should be headin'. Should we plan . Scouting it early tomorrow?
Reginar looks at the table. "It's not an easy path, but perhaps it will be easier for you to see for yourselves." He finishes his ale. "Seek into the center of the city, into the places of wealth and power. You'll soon find the temple. It can hardly be missed."
"Rankev." Finlogan says when Rankev appears. He had hoped to have left him behind.
He cannot believe that he has to scout inside a temple.
For those at the table and can see Hansyn’s face, the attentions of his brother are obviously not well received. ”Fishing eh? Are you sure someone else wasn’t fishing for you?” as Reginar continues however, Hansyn seems to forget his brother and turns his focus back to the mission. He will deal with that problem later.
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"Of course someone else was doing the actual fishing," Rankev replies as though stating the obvious. "You wouldn't actually expect -me- to...do...the net, or whatever they call it! I simply plied my mystical arts, not that you would know about that, and they gathered up the sleeping fish.
Sorry, was I going too fast? I remember you were not quite the, erm, model student at bookwork."
He pauses for another sip and sends Captain Attero for more drink.
"Finlogan," he replies with equal amount of warmth. "YES Cole, yes! I have been itching to give those presumptions upstarts at the temple what-for, putting on airs and strutting around like they are better than everyone," Rankev says without a bit of sarcasm. "Early tomorrow sounds grand. Have you rooms or are you, ah, sleeping under the stars?"
Ahhhh, you remembered my preferences, but for now, we do have rooms.
Hansyn subtlety summons an invisible hand of force to do his bidding.
As Ranvek sips his drink, he seems to have tipped his glass too much and ends up with the remainder of his broiling brown liquid spilling down his chin and onto the front of his fine clothes.
Hansyn looks back to his brother. ”You might want to work on the basics like drinking and less time on bookwork Rankie” he says quite pleased with himself.
As to accommodation, Hansyn is fine with letting the others make the decision on where to stay.