"Well, I was thinking mostly of nice clothing or something... that's hard to break... but whatever.. I am quite serious about breaking this curse of yours... you have my pledge. Until later, then."
If Akate has nothing more to add, Celyne returns to her friends and finishes dinner
Zokons time then he re-fills the bath and is having a soak before you can blink
"Maybe the cups needed time to settle in." Argentov adds helpfully. "And where are you all from?"
"I'm from Brevory. It's not too bad." Scarlet leans back in her seat. "I've always wanted to see more of the region. The...er...Stolen Lands are no exception."
Numalar examines the tableware with mild disdain. However, the drips and rings of liquid seem to disappear from the table around him.
using prestidigitation to quietly clean up anything Numalar would think is unsightly.Numalar looks over at other patrons who are dining with a keen eye. Did we get the rejects here, or is everyone drinking from leaky cups?
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14On a second glance they don't seem as bad as you originally thought.
"Maybe the cups needed time to settle in." Argentov adds helpfully. "And where are you all from?"
"I spent most of my time south in the River Kingdoms. Travelling from one tavern to another performing jokes with either a dirty limerick, a tall tale or even slapstick." Posh smiles with a shrug "I just came up north for a chance of scenery and decided to join this group to help fend off the bandits."
Posh seems a bit off when mentioning simply travelling, but more so about his reasons for coming up north. It doesn't gel with his personality from what you've seen nor does it seem to make sense to leap from performer to savior of the innocent, though stranger stuff has happened.
"Well, I was thinking mostly of nice clothing or something... that's hard to break... but whatever.. I am quite serious about breaking this curse of yours... you have my pledge. Until later, then."
If Akate has nothing more to add, Celyne returns to her friends and finishes dinner
Seeing Celyne leave, Posh walks over to Akate.
"Nice to meet you again. My name is Poshment Underhill, but you can call me Posh. I don't believe I caught your name?" he smiles as he offers out his hand to her. "Have you worked here long?"
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"So they keep you leashed that way?"
Numalar frowns crossly. "I have to ask again, Alia; are you trying to be deliberately insulting? Most people do not take well to being compared to leashed animals."
"But to answer your question, Alia, my 'leash,' as you call it, is my honor. I will fulfill my commission because I promised to do so. If you take someone's gold and agree to work on their behalf, you are theirs as long as the contract stands. Eventually, our contract will be complete and we will be free to do as we will."
"As for latitude, it is noteworthy that of all the various things we might undertake as a part of our mission, only one thing was prescribed in our charter and that was what the sentence was for unrepentant banditry. Everything else is to our discretion. The fact that our employers cared about how we did things only in one specific regard should tell you something."
"the group seems to be composed of individuals rather than government agents."
Numalar smiles. "What do you think government agents look like? They are individuals like anyone else."
"But no, we were not 'government agents' prior to taking this commission. We are mercenaries, if you will. In Brevoy you only have two kinds of 'government agent:' the bureaucrat and the soldier, and it is mostly the latter. We are neither, but then, neither of those are particularly well suited to our mission, and we are likely less expensive."
"Alia laughs, in a sad, sarcastic way:"I'm still here, am I not? "
Numalar looks confused for a moment, and then his eyes go wide. He slumps. "Alia, I... I humbly crave your pardon. I did not intend to refer to your recent misfortune. I know that must be a hard memory for you, and I apologize."
"My argument is not so much having "what if's" as it is "when's"."
"Of course, all things must happen in the fullness of time. But who will reform and who will be driven to crime is pure conjecture. You are making guesses as to the minds of people you do not know."
"And in the world at large, there always seem to be enough criminals to fill in for those brought to justice."
"The human world may seem that way, Alia, but I assure you that not all places are the same. Some places have more crime than others. Sometimes it is because the people have a more law-abiding philosophy than others, and other times it is because enforcement is more efficient. But the death penalty exists in all human lands. I should point out too, that within Brevoy, there are indeed bandits, but they are less frequent and less brazen than the ones hereabouts, as the law against banditry is enforced with greater vigor there."
"Oh, I can. Because it's all about balance."
"My point is that saying that criminals are eager to be reformed and that law-abiding citizens are at the same time eager to become criminals seems contradictory. Do you think humans are desperate to be something other than what they are? Humans can be fickle, but... most are not that fickle."
"We're a new player in this game, hunting the wolves. So some wolves may well decide they would rather be rabbits instead. But only if that means we will no longer hunt them down."
"I have no interest in going after retired bandits, Alia. If they are now keeping the peace of their own accord then I cannot be bothered pursuing them. This is not what we are talking about. We are talking about the 'wolves' that we have hunted down successfully."
"And 20 years later, they are still out of young man?"
"I know that 20 years only seems to be a short while to you, Alia. But to humans, it is nearly an eternity. An entire generation. And if our hypothetical nation has the same enemy 20 years later, it is in trouble, because that enemy has been growing too."
"By that logic, you would do well to execute random people on the street. You would prevent crime that way, too. If you truly think executing a dozen man to kill one who would commit crimes again is justice...."
Numalar rolls his eyes with annoyance.
"I was refuting your statement. You said, and I quote:""Using lethal force never in history stopped crime from taking place."
"This statement is so obviously false that I can only think you meant something else when you said it. It is preposterous otherwise."
"Now... I am well aware that if we were to extinguish every speck of life on this globe, we would also eliminate crime for all time. Nowhere was I proposing such a thing. However, we were not talking about 'Justice' until now, and the fact that you have changed the subject suggests the me that you have abandoned your original position. So, about justice then... I am concerned with justice, at least on a personal level. And whether a criminal will reform or not has nothing to do with whether their punishment is just. For the sake of justice, all that matters is: did the accused commit the crime, or not. And these ones definitely did; they do not deny it. Justice says they hang."
"Should justice be tempered with mercy? Certainly. But only wisely. Only a fool spares everyone."
"But you decided to save their lifes, only to have them hanged now."
"That was not my doing, Alia, and I would not have done it were it up to me. Those that chose to stand and fight at least would have died with some honor if they died on a battlefield. It was Celyne who saved them, and I believe Celyne was more interested in interrogating these men and women for information than offering them mercy."
"Though it was you who brought up that a punishment that is not final may embolden civilians to take up banditry...."
"No, Alia, the issue of deterrence was one that you brought up; I merely meant that I don't see how lessening the punishment for a crime will make people fear that punishment more. I for one do not especially care whether others are deterred from crime based on my own actions. I have other problems and I cannot be policing the hearts and minds of the citizenry. If a law-abiding citizen decides to take up crime, I do not consider it to be my fault."
"What I do care about is protecting myself, my friends, and other innocent folk from the actions of criminals. And that means making hard choices. It also means acting within our means."
"The fact is that most of your proposals are not within our means. We cannot carry out our commission and at the same time be responsible for the reformation of every bandit we catch up to. It is more than just 'inconvenient.' It is impossible."
"And meanwhile, since you brought up justice, is it justice that we should be forced to live our lives as jailers and parole officers thanks to the actions of a few criminals? No it is not. We should not be forced to dedicate our lives to these people. We must get on with our own lives, and bear what we can bear."
"And those two asked for mercy when they had superior numbers and the tactical advantage? Or did they surrender when defeat was imminent?"
"There were two of us and two of them. Zokon wanted them alive and threatened them with my magic." Numalar smiles. "I told him I was out of magic that could incapacitate without killing; the only spell I have that can do that is daze, and you can't use it on the same man over and over. I was ready to start setting fires," Numalar says with a little gleam in his eyes.
"The other two, they where on a raid...."
"No, actually, they were collecting firewood. We were the ones on a raid that time; it was only an hour or two before we hit the camp where you were, and Zokon and I went to scout the camp on our own. We stumbled on them in the woods."
"Chick and Wilbur were the 'new guys' in the gang and as such they were forced to do the menial tasks for the camp. We had no evidence that they had ever participated in a bandit action, though membership in the gang does prove that they conspired to do so. They signed up to be robbers, but haven't actually robbed anyone that we know of."
"This is a big difference, Alia. The ones we are taking to Restov have confessed to actual robberies. Chick and Wilbur may have had the intent, but had not taken that final step as far as we know."
"So following that train of thought, surely Wilbur and Chuck are also guilty of being complicit of murder,"
"No, as I mentioned already, Chick and Wilbur were new. As far as we know they have not participated in such a thing yet. And I don't think they are especially good liars, so I believe them. But the others confessed, and we are certain of their guilt."
"With certainity, is it? I have heared of several ways to undo that kind of magics, so you should not rely on it completely."
"The spell I speak of is one used by the priests of Abadar to certify oaths, known as Abadar's truthtelling, and while it is not infallible, you are able to tell whether the spell worked or not."
"And everybody who goes to buy groceries on the market will need to show their armpit every time they want to buy potatoes?"
"No, but showing your armpit when being admitted through a city's gates or when a stranger is first met in the wild, that I would certainly expect."
"If a bandit gang has a reputation for murdering their victims, and they waylay you...will you lay down your arms and hand over your valuables? Or will you fight, knowing you will die anyway?"
"If a bandit gang leaves no one alive to tell the tale, then how do they end up with a reputation at all? Ha... no, banditry has much in common with extortion, and the key to making a living that way is 'repeat business.' These bandits had pillaged the Leveton's trading post three times. You rob the same people over and over again. You can't do that if you kill them, but you must also make them fear for their lives. Sometimes threats are enough, but if there is resistance you sacrifice one of your vicitims as an 'example' to get compliance from the others."
"The Stag Lord? He's no ordinary bandit, the way he leaves messages and displays his presence, one would think he considers himself ruler of this land."
"Perhaps he does at that. If he were willing to pledge fealty to the Swordlords, who knows; they might let him keep it. It is of no matter to us though, as long as he doesn't. And between you and me I am not much impressed with his idea of 'governance.' But don't think that ordinary bandits don't leave 'messages' like that either. It could have even been Kressle's idea rather than this 'Stag Lord.'"
"Bandits must kill those who resist or do not cooperate, or do even worse to them, in order to intimidate the rest into compliance....""That same thing can also be said about a City Guard, yet there's many towns where they don't have to kill people for a long time."
Numalar smiles again. "Heh... not that many. In Kyonin maybe. But around here? Brevoy is the kind of land where there is a gibbet at every crossroads. They put the executed on display here; they believe that the warning against taking up crime must be fresh in everyone's minds."
"But the difference is that those who enforce the law have the support of their communities. Ultimately, these crimes have the death penalty because that is what the community wants."
"If you wish to proselytize to the people of Restov, be my guest... perhaps you can change their minds on the matter. Though they might resent an outsider and a non-human coming and telling them that the way they do things is wrong."
"You forget that many of these may have been normal peasants, farmhands...."
"No, Alia, I do not forget. In fact, that is exactly what I expect most of them once were. But even your average country bumpkin has a certain degree of woodscraft. And remember also, that should the bandits decide to pursue you, they are mostly country bumpkins themselves. No, I think if one of them wandered off, they have a good chance of getting away, as long as they can stay clear of the other bandits in the future."
"How does that fit into the image of a people who desire change and alterations at such a rapid pace as humans?"
"It doesn't, because quite frankly, most humans are not interested in change, unless it suits their own personal ambitions. Oh there a few that think of the bigger picture, but for the most part humans are not like that. I'm not sure where you got that image, but it is not true."
"And because they don't care, we should. It's one way we can change how the world works."
Numalar leans back and laughs. "Change the world! Hah... oh dear. No, no, Alia, there are only six of us, and I am an old man. We are like little fleas on the back of a giant elephant. You wish to steer the elephant? Really? Dozens of gods and hundreds of demigods already struggle over the way the world is, and you wish to throw your hat into the ring?"
"I don't know about you, Alia, but we are not trying to change the world. We are trying to earn our hire and survive in the doing of it."
"why did you not stay in Brevoy after living for 70 years there...why did you come out here, into these wild lands, risking your life?"
"Now that, Lady Alia, is a good question. It is a long story, but for now I will give you the short version."
"For most of life I lived on the graces of my father. We climbed out of the darklands when I was thirty and my mother was already gone. My father found welcome in the house of Duke Garess of Brevoy. It seems that they admired his talent for storytelling, though they never acknowledged his title."
"You see, my father taught me that we are descended from an ancient royal line, that of the Princes of Valdralee. Wherever and whatever Valdralee was, it is long lost, though to hear my father tell of it, it was a place of beauty and wonder, ruled by a council of nine wise and powerful princes, steeped in magic, who could take the shape of golden dragons whenever they willed."
"But a prince without a pricipality is basically a pretentious beggar. I quickly learned that among humans, trying to insist that people address me as 'your Highness' was a good way to get dunked in the latrines, or worse."
"As I grew older, I became angry with my father, and disgusted with his role in the Garess household. It seemed to me that my father had given up his birthright to be an entertainer for the court, in exchange for a warm bed and a full belly. I thought him a hypocrite. And my life slid into dissipation and spite."
"At the end, though, he proved that he had honor after all, and died in the service to Duke Garess on the battlefield, honoring his alliance with the duke to the last, no matter how one-sided that alliance was. On his deathbed he begged me to live up to my heritage."
"Once he was dead, thanks to my... er... reputation, I was no longer welcome to remain in the house of Duke Garess. I realized that the only way to redeem myself was through my abilities as a sorcerer. There were few avenues left open to me, and even less honorable ones. So I came to Restov and with what was left of my inheritance I finished the studies I had neglected as a youth."
"Regardless, had this charter not come along, I might have spent my years spinning yarns in taverns for a few coins. At least that way the tales of Valdralee would not be completely lost. But lucky for me, this royal charter came along, offering me a chance to prove my worth. So you see, Lady Alia: I am not trying to change the world; I am too busy trying to change myself. The rest of the world can follow my example if they wish."
"Murdering people native here, especially those knowing the land, knowing where to find supplies, hidden paths and positions for ambushes, that IS short-sighted."
"Which is why we are trying to deal with these murderers. Or are you accusing me of murder again?" Numalar asks with a frown and a raised eyebrow. "For the record though, few people are actually 'native' to this region. Most of the ones you will meet have fled from Brevoy for one reason or another. Some others from one or another of the River Kingdoms."
"I rather meant, how many other people have you encountered in these lands? Civilians? You met 16 bandits, and how many non-bandits, south of the road?""
"Ah. Well we haven't really been south of the road much, but west of it we have encountered some. We stopped at the farmhouse of the Benzen family and that was a much bigger family than I am used to (though I do not recall exactly how many children there were). Madam Benzen was clearly a fertile lady. We also met an old hermit named Bokken who sold us a few potions; that was south of the road. There were also a group of kobolds that we ran into; they were harvesting moon radishes and we attempted to barter with them, even though they nearly attacked at the sight of me! they do not care for gnomes, you see."
"We have heard of others through Oleg and Svetlana, and will probably visit them when we get the chance. Such as the Renault family which has a larger farm north of the Benzen's. The fact was though, that we were in a hurry to reach the bandit camp before they readied themselves in preparation for us, since the first group we encountered were part of the same gang and would soon be missed. So we bypassed those that could have been friends in our haste."
"Because if several nations lay claim to the same land, more often than not, they don't settle their differences in an office."
"Having a historical claim is not the same as actively trying to possess it. If someone manages to establish a viable fief here then that will likely mostly settle the matter. But if I were to meet a representative from Mivon or Pitax, with a charter like mine only issued by his nation instead of Brevoy, I would greet him warmly and ask to compare notes. We would have the same goals, after all."
"So a trade route, you think? But you are expected to measure and explore all of these lands, are you not? Also, would that not lend itself to forced labor for road construction,"
"No, we are only exploring a small section of it, about seventy miles wide and sixty miles deep. And most trade routes around here go by riverboat, so I doubt they will be building many roads. It's worth noting though that even if we were exploring the whole thing, in order to make an informed decision on where to put your trade route, you would need to know all the options."
"Maybe you are right, and other...people I talked with were wrong, and Brevoy is not finally making a move to try and absorb these lands into itself."
Numalar thinks for a moment, and looks at Alia. "Interesting... I would be curious to know what you have heard and who you have heard it from. I have been quite forthcoming to you; will you do the same?"
"For the elves of ancient times, it was a giant hunting ground. During our absence, younger races moved in, but they have not managed to change it's nature, wild and free. Thats also why there's ancient elven holds here, and a connection to the aiadura network. We did have a kind of...control, over these lands. Pity for your task...the map we followed was very old, but I assure you, well-charted."
"That is also quite interesting. Are you talking about the time before Earthfall? That is a very long time ago, and the face of the world itself has changed since then. The Taldans came here almost three thousand years ago, and the Kellids were here before that. Also... tell me about this 'aiadura network.'"
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"Travelling from one tavern to another performing jokes with either a dirty limerick, a tall tale or even slapstick."
Numalar smiles, and winks at Posh. "I've done my share of entertaining folks in taverns too. Mostly with the stories my father told me when I was young. For example, have you heard The Tragedy of Princess Selbina?... You see, Selbina was a princess of a great house in Valdralee, and she was yet unmarried. She had three suitors, one was a fine prince of a neighbouring house; another was a powerful warlord from a neighbouring kingdom, and the third was a young lad from the forest, who nobody thought anything of at all...."
Numalar leans back and puts his back next to the fireplace, and though the story starts as mere conversation, his voice quickly changes, taking on the tenor of a storyteller, as if inviting all in the dining room to listen. He quietly puts his hat on the floor as he speaks, top down, in case someone cares to throw some coins in.
By the end of the story, Numalar's eyes mist up as he relates Princess Selbina's tragic death. He looks around and nods at those who have come to listen... and if they request more stories, Numalar will continue into the night.
Scarlet's attention slowly shifts to Numular as he enters storytelling mode. She's pretty hooked.
"Is everyone this good at telling stories?" Scarlet whispers. "Most of the stories I heard were about...um...hmm...not really polite to talk about it in civil areas."
"It's so sad" Argentov's eyes well to overflowing by the end of Numalar's tale. "Excuse me." He gets up and rushes out dabbing at his eyes.
"Hey Posh, you're a bard by trade right? How about one of your stories?" Akate asks, still wiping her eyes.
"Ahhh"
Zokon eventually gets out of the bath and joins the group
"Hey Posh, you're a bard by trade right? How about one of your stories?" Akate asks, still wiping her eyes.
"Well I'm more of a comedian, but I could give it a try." he gives a shrug and then clears his throat.
"Let's see. Err...In my travels I heard a story of a young man who was raised in a orphanage. He hated his life there, often beaten by the owner, but he had friends and a special close friend he had feelings for, but never felt up to telling her."
"One day their orphanage was visited by a strange woman. She was interested in the pair and made them a offer. They could go with her and leave this place, if they did only one thing. Kill this man who caused them such trouble."
"The boy was hesitant, but had agreed. He attempted to sneak up on the old man, but he was a light sleeper and when seeing the blade over-powered the boy and beat him something bad. The girl was there, watching and when the knife was tossed across the room, she picked it up and charged in, thrusting the blade deep into the man's chest. He went silent and crashed to the ground."
"Then, as if by magic that woman had appeared. She smiled approvingly at the blood-splattered girl, but shook her head at the boy.
'I expected better from you, but you will learn in time.' and after this the two went with her as did many others over the years. They had continued to work with her. The girl taking up the blade as a profession and the boy would attempt to bait in victims or sing."
"As they grew older the girl became a cold killer, feeling nothing whilst the young boy she once loved would chase after any lady of the night he could find until his singing caught the ear of a King."
"This King promised him a new life, lots of money as long as he kept him entertained and always sang perfectly. He agreed and this young man thought nothing of anyone else until the old woman confronted him. Threatening him with death. This did not phase him until she threatned the woman. At that, he agreed he would share his new fortune with her and the group."
Posh gives out a sigh at this point and a pause.
"This did not last however. The king quickly grew bored of the singer and one night he sang a melody akin to what the King's mother once sang on the night she died. This enraged him and he locked the young man up in the dungeons to be executed the following day. He still had friends and they managed to break him out by poisoning a guard and bribing a few others. It seemed he just needed to hide far away and rode with his friends, but as they entered the outskirts the young woman had appeared before them. At first he was overjoyed and beaming towards her with such a smile, until she spoke.
'You betrayed our mother. I'm going to bring you to her' and with that he fled with his few friends."
"They continued to flee on horseback, but she was somehow able to catch up, blending into the shadows and back out of them. His first friend was knocked off his horse and cut down before he could react, which his other, one who was like a brother, got his sword out to fight her so the young man could keep running, but he didn't last long and the young man and woman met once again. He took up his own feeble weapon and attempted to avoid her attacks instead of fight her, but she still came at him like a animal possessed with her cold, dead expression. Through sheer luck he fearfully stuck his blade forward as she lunged at him, impaling the young woman."
"At first he was afraid to look up at her and see that rage, but he felt a wetness. He thought it to be the rain but when he looked up he saw that she was dying with a smile. She put a hand up to his cheek and whispered
'Thank you for freeing me, my love.'
With that she collapsed in his arms. Looking to the light in the distance he felt free, but somehow more alone than when he was in the orphanage. He decided to travel to the nearest city and then lose himself in drink or maybe, just maybe, find a place to call home and that smile that made him feel safe and at home."
Studied target on Posh
"Interesting tale"
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Numalar watches Posh with narrowed eyes, and eventually smiles. When Posh finishes, Numalar nods. He pours another cup of wine and brings it over to Poshment.
"Forced to kill the one he loved." Numalar nods again. "Tragic indeed... but... perhaps between us we can improve on the ending, eh?" Numalar looks at Posh and winks.
He pats Posh on the shoulder. "Now... drink up. Perhaps something lighter now? After tragedy people often want things to lighten their hearts."
Numalar watches Posh with narrowed eyes, and eventually smiles. When Posh finishes, Numalar nods. He pours another cup of wine and brings it over to Poshment.
"Forced to kill the one he loved." Numalar nods again. "Tragic indeed... but... perhaps between us we can improve on the ending, eh?" Numalar looks at Posh and winks.
He pats Posh on the shoulder. "Now... drink up. Perhaps something lighter now? After tragedy people often want things to lighten their hearts."
Posh simply shrugs
"Well you are a better story teller than me. Perhaps you could come up with a better set up or even something more interesting in the middle?" he states with a grin "After all, I'm not used to telling stories and I've never been good at it."
"Man, poor guy." Scarlet mumbles after hearing Posh's story. "I can relate. Sometimes you don't know what your purpose is." Scarlet twiddles her thumbs, then yawns.
"Not that I haven't enjoyed all of this, but we got another day ahead of us. Might be time for bed...and a bath, I guess." Scarlet rolls her eyes, then finds a good spot to take a nap.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20-1
"Man, poor guy." Scarlet mumbles after hearing Posh's story. "I can relate. Sometimes you don't know what your purpose is." Scarlet twiddles her thumbs, then yawns.
"Not that I haven't enjoyed all of this, but we got another day ahead of us. Might be time for bed...and a bath, I guess." Scarlet rolls her eyes, then finds a good spot to take a nap.
"I agree. I could do with getting the smell of the road off." he states before looking over to Akate. "Anyway, what wine was it you said you liked?"
"Um, Talanova--the only brand we carry." shes a bit drunk though and as she lazily passes you the bottle it taps the bar with just the right amount of force to break making a big mess.
"Oh S*&@e! S+!&e! S@%$e! S%@~e!" She cries over and over again, reaching for the dirty rag on her shoulder to mop it up.
Alas, it seems, this does not happen.
Cyrielle enjoys the previous bath with the other girls smoking one of her pungent cigarillos while luxuriating in the steaming water. Afterward she takes up guard duty, the rasp of her whetstone lasting so long that you think she might be whittling her blade down to a steel toothpick.
The night passes without incident.
Akate's mood is further dampened by the arrival of her boss, who again berates her for her poor job performance and unkempt workspace, and by the inkling that Posh seems vaguely like the Casanova in his story. She retires in the wee hours of the night to find her own bed, leaving the boss's stout, morning-person, wife Mrs. Soyev to take up her post at the desk.
Breakfast is provided. Rested you can make for Restov by late morning, with your presumed arrival time in the late afternoon/early evening.
"Um, Talanova--the only brand we carry." shes a bit drunk though and as she lazily passes you the bottle it taps the bar with just the right amount of force to break making a big mess.
"Oh S+%@e! S!~$e! S*+~e! S#!*e!" She cries over and over again, reaching for the dirty rag on her shoulder to mop it up.
"Don't worry, I can help with that." Posh states as he takes the peices of glass and rebuilds the bottle using his magic, mending.
Alas, it seems, this does not happen.
Cyrielle enjoys the previous bath with the other girls smoking one of her pungent cigarillos while luxuriating in the steaming water. Afterward she takes up guard duty, the rasp of her whetstone lasting so long that you think she might be whittling her blade down to a steel toothpick.
The night passes without incident.
Akate's mood is further dampened by the arrival of her boss, who again berates her for her poor job performance and unkempt workspace, and by the inkling that Posh seems vaguely like the Casanova in his story. She retires in the wee hours of the night to find her own bed, leaving the boss's stout, morning-person, wife Mrs. Soyev to take up her post at the desk.
Breakfast is provided. Rested you can make for Restov by late morning, with your presumed arrival time in the late afternoon/early evening.
Posh yawns as he gets up and looks around to see how everyone is. He also looks for Akate.
Scarlet finds a chair to sleep in and quietly snoozes away. She wakes up not too long after sunrise.
"What a good night's rest will do for ya. Haven't slept like that in weeks." Scarlet does a quick stretch. "Morning Mrs. Soyev." She nods to the front desk.
"I'm guessing Akate went to bed. Seemed like she was on the night shift. Poor girl..." She shakes her head. "She may think it's a curse, but I knew some people who would pay hefty amounts for that ability."
Alia will give Mrs Soyev a little payment extra. "I have to say, service was excellent. We arrived in a state when there was chaose in the town, but Akate did an outstanding job in providing us everything we wanted or needed. I only wish every inn would have such a competent person in the night shift, you are good people for looking beyond the obvious and giving her the chance she deserves!", Alia told her with a smile.
Poor girl seemed to be in such an ill mood, and always get blamed. Maybe she'll be treated a bit nicer if a guest specifically praises her work, for once...
Alia then packs up, checks on Faeria again, packs some bread, sausage and cheese for a lunch, and generally will be ready to depart.
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"Um, Talanova--the only brand we carry." shes a bit drunk though and as she lazily passes you the bottle it taps the bar with just the right amount of force to break making a big mess.
"Oh S##~e! S&!!e! S%&!e! S$~$e!" She cries over and over again, reaching for the dirty rag on her shoulder to mop it up.
Numalar looks over at the cursing woman. He mutters something, making a gesture with his fingers, and his eyes seem to lose focus for a moment.
* * *
Numalar emerges, somewhat rumpled and bleary-eyed, but cheerful.
"Aah... I needed that. Haven't slept that well for some time." Numalar joins in in the breakfast and over the meal engages in chitchat with the other guests, but gradually steers the subject to that of the disturbance last night.
"So what was all the fuss about last night? The local farmers seemed up in arms. Did they manage to deal with the problem?"
* * *
Numalar loads up Gertrude and gets ready to ride.
"We were hard on the mounts yesterday, so let's take it easy on them this time. There's no rush; if we make Restov by noon or early afternoon that will be fine."
Zokon wakes up from his refreshing rest and attends breakfast with all. He then takes a meal to the prisoners.
"Eat up all,"
He then approaches Mrs Soyev
"How much do we owe good lady?"
He quietly puts his hat on the floor as he speaks, top down, in case someone cares to throw some coins in.
Zokon wakes up from his refreshing rest and attends breakfast with all. He then takes a meal to the prisoners."Eat up all,"
He then approaches Mrs Soyev
"How much do we owe good lady?"
"... perhaps between us we can improve on the ending, eh?" Numalar looks at Posh and winks.
[dice=Bluff (to pass secret message to Posh)]1d20 + 12
** spoiler omitted **
He doesn't want people to know of his past and wants to make amends. Much as to the reason he wanted to help those bandits turn over a new leaf, if they could so he's being purposely evasive and not wanting to let anyone know or have a guess. Hence the second bluff check he did.
Zokon is quite paranoid in Restov, he is aware of thugs and possible encounters with his own family.
Scarlet in the big city. She seems to check herself, check her belongings and check the prisoners.
"I say we visit Erastil's Lodge and give Faeria some help? Then we can dump off these prisoners."
Alia is curious about many things in this city. Despite her age, it's really the first time she is so far from Kyonin. She will be especially interested in any weaponry/smithing they come across, as I expect no swordlords are publicly displaying their skill(and really, she's interested in those, and just assuming those things she's on the lookout for are influenced by their technique).
Since there's many things to catch her eye, she'll just tag along with no specific goal:"Yes, Scarlet, that priest at the post seemed decent enough, I would think Erastil should be a fine choice."
Scarlet in the big city. She seems to check herself, check her belongings and check the prisoners.
"I say we visit Erastil's Lodge and give Faeria some help? Then we can dump off these prisoners."
Cyrielle suggests the opposite. Get rid of most of the baggage first rather than risk the prisoners down the sometimes crowded thoroughfares.
Entering at the Copper Gate (AKA the "Pauper's Gate") entrance to the walled city along its docks, your charters get you past the long-haired, city thugs at the gate who shake down your fellow pilgrims. Inside the city proper it's well... it's noisy, and smelly, and close, and there is garbage everywhere, and for anyone with keen senses this is all magnified by a factor of two topped with the heady scent of sewage and presence of some very bold rats, who have started their evening prowl at early dusk.
The smell is bad enough to drown out the riverboats loaded with fish and eels moored at the docks to you right and the tanner you hardly noticed to you left.
For those of you that are returning visitors, it wasn't as bad as this the last time you where here a couple of weeks ago. People rush by with handkerchiefs held to their faces in an attempt to filter out the smell.
While most shops are closing down for the night, a lone half-orc vendor wanders the fish market plying his-
"Meat pies! Meat pies! Fresh, savory meat pies! Get 'em whilst they hot! Meat pie m'lords?"
Celyne will stay close to the others, a little intimidated by the crowds at the gate and on the city streets. Luna skulks at her side looking about with distrust and wariness... While a meat pie for Luna might sound good, she puts up a warding hand and shakes her head 'no!' at the half-orc seller...
"What is this horrid smell?... it wasn't like this when we left last, at least, not this bad."
Cyrielle suggests the opposite. Get rid of most of the baggage first rather than risk the prisoners down the sometimes crowded thoroughfares.
"I want no part with delivering these people to their deaths, anyway, and I will not bring Faeria there where they may decide that her condition does not excempt her from what they consider justice. There is plenty enough of us. Scarlet and I can take Faeria to the Temple, while you guys with the charters get your bounty for their heads."
The offending smell almost overloads Alia's olfactory senses...nothing could be less welcome now than the prospect of food, as she's busy trying to fight back an urge to vomit, so reinforces Celyne's inquiry: "It was not always like this? Good to know. What in the 9 hells happened here?"
"Meat pies...No, gotta stay on point. Going to help Alia and Faeria. Where should we meet afterward?"
Cyrielle suggests the opposite. Get rid of most of the baggage first rather than risk the prisoners down the sometimes crowded thoroughfares."I want no part with delivering these people to their deaths, anyway, and I will not bring Faeria there where they may decide that her condition does not exempt her from what they consider justice. There is plenty enough of us. Scarlet and I can take Faeria to the Temple, while you guys with the charters get your bounty for their heads."
Posh smiles at Alia's statement.
"I agree. I will go with you if you are alright with that." he gives a soft smile and a bow "Besides, I feel the three of us haven't gotten to know each other that well. I only joined this group recently too."
"I agree off load prisoners first, less tension after that"
"No thanks to the pie"
Zokon addresses the halforc vendor, scanning the streets in case he's a point man or spy, but not fully taking his attention from the vendor.
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"I say we visit Erastil's Lodge and give Faeria some help? Then we can dump off these prisoners."Cyrielle suggests the opposite. Get rid of most of the baggage first rather than risk the prisoners down the sometimes crowded thoroughfares.
"I would rather not answer questions as to why we are not turning over Faeria with the others, so if we are to go together I would drop her off first."
"But if we are splitting up that works just as well. That may be the most sensible thing."
"Normally I would favor the temple of Abadar myself, but seeing as a priest of Erastil came among us at Oleg's, Erastil seems to have an interest in what we are doing and it might be good to seek his blessing. Besides, the church of Erastil can probably use the coin we will be offering more than the temple of Abadar, which I'm sure has plenty of gold already."
"I lived in Restov for several years. The church of Erastil can be found at..." Numalar gives directions for those new to the city.
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"It was not always like this? Good to know. What in the 9 hells happened here?"
"No, a fair bit seems to have changed since I was here last. Restov was never especially clean, but it wasn't like this. Maybe we should ask a local."
While most shops are closing down for the night, a lone half-orc vendor wanders the fish market plying his-
"Meat pies! Meat pies! Fresh, savory meat pies! Get 'em whilst they hot! Meat pie m'lords?"
"Very good, I'll take one, good man. How much? And can you tell me what news in the city? There wasn't such a smell or so much garbage last time I was in, and that wasn't so long ago."
"Very good, I'll take one, good man. How much? And can you tell me what news in the city? There wasn't such a smell or so much garbage last time I was in, and that wasn't so long ago."
"Yer a man of refined taste sir. Refined taste. I knows it the minute I sees ya. 'Mung' I says 'there goes a true, refined noble.' Three silver crowns gov, or two pies fer seven."
"This twernt never the nicest part o' town, but over the last month things have really gotten bad. First, the garbage collectors stopped comin' then the sewers started backin' up. Now the rat-catchers are turnin' up dead." The corpulent pie man says with a sigh.
"Mung's the name. I be a baker ya see. Best meat pies in the Coppers. You lot look like a tough bunch. Maybe you can 'elp. One o' my suppliers, a gap-tooth fella by the name of Algie has got himself lost. No sign of the man for o'er a week now. I wouldn't worry none iffin' four others didn't go missing same way--and two o' them returned up dead. All in the last month, and all ratters too. I ain't got much coin, but everyone in the Copper's knows Mung. If you give me a good turn and I can do ya one back and make your lives a bit more comfortable. 'Ay, whatcha say?"
Zokon is quite paranoid in Restov, he is aware of thugs and possible encounters with his own family.
"I agree off load prisoners first, less tension after that"
"No thanks to the pie"
Zokon addresses the halforc vendor, scanning the streets in case he's a point man or spy, but not fully taking his attention from the vendor.