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Van's eyes glaze over when the paladin of the Silver Crusade starts talking, and he remains silent until the group is half-way to its destination, "What are we doing again? All I heard was blah, blah, blah, orphans, blah, blah, Silver Crusade, blah. My brain shuts off when religious people start talking."
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Whilst picking up some tasty, savory, and sweet delectables from the local market, Dydimus runs into some people he knows from 'round the 'hood.
Miltivis, who runs the market, claims he's served Auntie Baltwin for over 30 years, and while a good customer, she is quite demanding and often rude to the other customers. He says she’s kept his supplier of fine whiskeys in business for decades.
Gilga Baltwin's neighbors Travost and Tirelle Anthos are frankly tired of the noises the children make and the retinue of cats—though they do appreciate the latter’s mousing skills. They admit to being happy when Auntie Baltwin sends the children "off into the town" during the day, as it gives them a few hours of peace and quiet before they return in the evening.
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Miltivis is so impressed with the halfling's gourmand appetite that he:
1) Gives you all food for free, and
2) Starts a new eating contest named after the arcane duelist: Dydimus' Apple Biscuits Omnom Challenge! (How many biscuits can you eat in 30 minutes whilst chatting with your neighbors at no fewer than 90 words per minute?)
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Alek smiles at Dydimus' eccentric behavior and follows along with the group, keeping an eye on Cinderpaw. The wolf constantly sniffs at the air, occasionally pausing to eyeball a tasty looking rabbit familiar now and again.
Once at the market, the myriad smells get Alek's stomach to growling quickly and he relishes the tasty apple biscuits; they remind him of home... He shares one with Cinderpaw who gulps the treat down in two bites and begins to salivate as he watches Alek enjoying another. "Glutton." Alek says to his wolf companion, but tosses him the rest of his own biscuit. "You are spoiled." He comments while scratching Cinder's ear.
"What other sorts of things are named after you, Sir Dydimus?" Alek questions with a bemused look on his face.
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"What other sorts of things are named after you, Sir Dydimus?" Alek questions with a bemused look on his face.
The seemingly innocent question draws an uproariously raucous peal of laughter from the crowd. An alchemist steps forward shaking a vial, "Come on halfling. Care to give it another chance? Care to rename the Dydimus Diarrhea Disaster? Hm?"
"Come on Dydimus," a bystander yells, "I've got 2 copper that says you can hold it down for at least 10 seconds this time!"
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Dydimus gives the assembles crows a showy bow but wags his finger at the Alchemist, Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me! He shakes his head at the bystander Keeping it down wasn't the issue. It was fine going down, it just kept going down and took most of my insides with it.
As they continue towards the orphanage, Sir Dydimus if more than happy to tell them all about the more dignified things named after him, including a number of games of his own invention, a few culinary creations, a dozen or so song (from romantic to rowdy) and a couple alcoholic concoctions. The one he is most proud of is a unique fencing maneuver that he claims to have come up with, and while he insist that it is guaranteed to win you any duel, can not seem to duplicate the move, much to his frustration.
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So, the party heads over to Auntie Baltwin's!
Nearly swarming with cats and children, this fine upper-class home appears to be clean and in good condition considering the number and ages of its inhabitants. Three young boys shoot marbles in the dirt near the side porch, and inside strewn toys and more cats lie about on the floors. A few children take care of chores, while coughs and sneezes softly erupt from the children’s dormitories upstairs.
Auntie Baltwin’s Home for Recovery is known for being a place where sick kids go to get better, and the results seem amazing. Some people claim the place looks odd because people are always coming and going, sometimes taking kids with them. Auntie Baltwin has always played that off as their parents taking them home. A few of the kids come and go throughout the day, especially children that are now well, but have nowhere else to go.
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As the group reaches the orphanage, Caranthir turns to Dydimus.
Despite efforts to the contrary, I can't help but enjoy this halfling's company.
"Sir Dydimus," the elf says. "I fear we must entrust to your vigilant care a mission of highest import. Though you have banished the thieves guild from your neighborhood, I'm afraid that we have recently discovered something equally sinister: smugglers. Smugglers of apple biscuits. I didn't want to tell you before. Apparently they might be operating out of this very orphanage. Because of this serious threat, I feel perhaps you should infiltrate the upper floor, search for any information you can find about these vile smugglers, and then escape without notice. Only you are silent enough to accomplish this. In the meantime, we will distract this Auntie Baltwin. I warn you...this could be a most dangerous mission. Are you up to the challenge?"
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Really! In My District!?! This can not stand! I shall brave the perils of this quest and return as soon as I have ferreted out the culprits behind this heinous crime! The Halfling Quickly stashes his sword, shield, and feathered hat in his backpack and hands the bag to Caranthir. If I don't make let the people of Eastgate know that I died for them. With a dramatic flourish he pull the hood of his cloak over his head and dashes ahead of the group towards the orphanage.
Once he gets there he will try and integrate with the children there waiting for the party to arrive and distract Auntie Baltwin.
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@Van: Ouch! The dice aren't kind. The children essentially ignore you.
@Dydimus: What do you mean "integrate?" Are you trying to disguise yourself?
@Caranthir: A keen old hag of a woman answers the door. She walks with a cane. "Yes?" She says, sweetly.
Then, as soon as she notices that Caranthir is an elf, her tone abruptly changes. "What do you want? Lose your way from the Foreign Quarter? You've headed too far east; The Coins is several blocks west of here," she says dismissively.
"Good day!" And, she shuts the door.
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The door opens swiftly. In an irritated tone, Auntie Baltwin begins, "I said good," and she stops abruptly when she sees Alek standing there. Her tone softens considerably, though it could hardly be called cordial. "Day?" she finishes.
"What do you want?" she asks with obvious suspicion in her voice. "Come here to 'gather taxes' or perhaps 'protection money' from an old lady? Hm? Well you're going to have to beat it out of me!" The volume of her voice increases. "Yes, that's right! Here! In front of all these children and all my neighbors, and all these witnesses you'll beat a poor helpless old lady!!!" As she speaks, she gets louder and more agitated.
"Or maybe you want to complain about my babies?" At this point, she's in a veritable frenzy.
Then a cat hops into her arms. Addressing it, her tone completely reverses into a dulcet, almost sing-song cadence, "Oh, you're a sweet baby, aren't you Pickles? Yes you are. You just want to protect your mommy, don't you? Yes you do."
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"A likely story! You probably stole those supplies from the Temple of the Shining Star, didn't you!" she responds with so much emotional venom directed at Caranthir that she seems to spit hatred with every syllable.
"And after all that nice lady Ollysta does for us. Well, I won't pay your ransom for supplies that are rightfully ours! You, you, you..." she searches for an appropriate word, "you bandits, you brigands, you routiers, you..."
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The kids seems to take well to the dice game. They all start rolling up characters.
"I want to be a fireman," says one.
"I want to be a police officer," says another.
"I want to be a nurse," says a third.
"I want to be an RPG rules lawyer," says yet another child.
"You can't," responds the first. "The rules for organized play says: no evil alignments..."
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"I don't know if I want to do organized play if I can't be evil," whines the fourth child. "I feel like you're stifling my creativity."
The other three children all roll their eyes at the fourth one.
"Yeah, right!" The first child says sardonically, "The most creative thing you've ever done was sneak into Auntie Baltwin's stash of whiskey and try to shave Pickles!"
"Yeah!" says the second child. "She's all ugly and stuff, but she does right by us. She doesn't deserve to have her whiskey stoled. She gives us food, treats our colds, and gives us beds at night!"
The third child simply looks at the fourth one and punches him in the arm (not very hard), saying, "Jerk."
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Jeez, calm down. Here have some apple biscuits. Looking at the 4th kid, I understand feeling stiffed by the rules but it helps us all have fun. You can say you're chaotic neutral, its just like being evil, depending on who is running the game. he offers encouragingly.
Now, for some grown up advice. He looks around the circle to make sure everyone is paying attention. First, you shouldn't drink whisky it will stunt your growth. Second, while trying to shave a cat might seem funny the scratches you get are not, trust me.
After a moment to let that sink in, OK you guys ready to start? Once everyone is, It is dark and stormy night. You are all in your favorite coffee shop when a mysterious stranger walks it...
As they play Dydimus asks about like here and what they dream of becoming when the grow up, when he isn't telling the heroic stories about his own adventures that is.
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"Ugh! More rules! Don't drink! Don't shave the cat! Don't touch that in public! The fourth child mimes. Blah, blah, blah! You sound just like Auntie Baltwin! And besides, Chaotic Neutral is for wussies. I want to be e-e-e-e-vil! And Auntie Baltwin is mean. I mean, I do love her cooking, and she tells fun stories at bedtime, and we have all the cats we can play with, and we're happy to keep busy and help out. But she's, like, totally mean." The fourth child continues to protest.
The other three children, fed up with his insistence, walk away. "Don't be a jerk, dude," they say in unison.
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Van and Opal can hear the sounds of children coughing through an upstairs window.
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Alek shoots the elf a scathing look and physically interjects himself in between Caranthir and Auntie Baltwin. He holds up the apple biscuit and nods toward the cat in her arms. "May I offer your little one a piece of my apple biscuit, milady?"
If allowed he will take a step closer to scratch the cat's ear while giving a piece of the biscuit. "Don't mind the elf, I hear he was raised by goblins..." He whispers to Auntie Baltwin. "I assure you, milady, we are not here for any money, but to simply deliver the supplies to your establishment."
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Alek rolls a Sense Motive check:
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Alek makes a diplomacy check with his apple biscuit (with a circumstance bonus for the tasty treat!):
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But he accidentally shoves the biscuit up Pickle's nose. The cat screeches, and Auntie Baltwin's eyes narrow with anger. "Fine! Leave the medicine at the stoop and back away from my property!"
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Caranthir smirks as Alek's efforts fail after the hunter threw him to the wolves.
Caranthir looks up at Auntie Baltwin.
"How dare you treat those called upon to deliver these supplies in such a manner? If anything, I will not leave the supplies here, but report back to the Silver Crusade regarding our incredibly poor treatment at your hand. Perhaps they will cut off your supplies entirely and send them to another orphanage with better management? That is not for me to say, but it will without doubt be in my report!" the elf says in a highly perturbed voice.
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"She acts snide toward elves, disapproving toward dwarves, suspicious toward half-orcs, and treats gnomes and halflings as if they were children, talking to them simply and even scolding them for dumb questions or other minor mishaps."
"the children love her cooking and she tells fun stories at bedtime [...] and seem happy to keep busy and help out"
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Exasperated by the Pathfinders' persistence, Auntie Baltwin gives in. She throws up her hands and says, "Fine, fine. If your itty bitty legs are tired, I can't very well turn you out into the big city, now can I? Come on in... But have those filthy elves wipe their feet before they go into my house!"
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Indignant, Caranthir says "Who ever thought of elves as filthy! They are likely the cleanest and most conscientious of all the races!" he says to no one in particular.
As he enters the house, he takes a moment to look back over his shoulder and cast a glare at Dydimus, who seems caught up in other things.
"NOW!" he mouths to the halfling, pointing upstairs.
Roleplaying! Of all the silly, time-wasting pastimes!