10th of Kythorn, 1372 DR, in Sheirtalar, The Shining City by the Sea.
It is unusually hot, even for Lapaliiya. Summer solstice is a few days away, but the fields outside the city gates already began to dry up and more than one well ran out of water. Everyday life in the city slowed down, and the sounds of Sheirtalar's main bazaar seem to be muffled and somehow far away. Only the children appear to be unaffected by the relentless heat, running, screaming, and playing in the streets with a vigor the older citizens seem to have lost.
However, away from the dusty streets, in the shadows of temples and towers, the city is as active as ever. Rumors are being spread, business deals signed, hostilities declared, and friendships renewed.
...
Earlier this morning, you all received an written invitation from a messenger, a young half-elf with the demeanor of a bookworm who seemed out of his dept delivering notes to strangers. How the young boy knew where to find you, or how he learned your names, you do not know - the messenger had specific instructions, but didn't know anything beyond his immediate task.
Hello, unknown friend.
You do not know me, so let me introduce myself. My name is Grilvo Dibaarn, I am a humble businessman from Sheirtalar. To not waste both our time, let me be frank: I'd like to invite you to a meeting in the bath house 'Istishia's Blessing' this evening, at sunset, to make you an offer I believe you will find appealing. Just show this message at the entrance and you'll be directed to me in the private area.
This invitation is without obligation, just enjoy the cool water and some refreshments and listen to my proposal. If I fail to interest you, no harm is done and we both will go our separate ways again after this evening.
Sincerely,
Grilvo Dibaarn
The invitation appears to be written by a calm and experienced hand, with a small black wax seal showing scales and some coins. You know that the local bath houses have become popular services during this summer heat, but 'Istishia's Blessing' isn't open to the general public.
...
And so it happens that shortly before sunset you find yourself in front of 'Istishia's Blessing', driven by faith, need, or simple curiosity. The walls of the city still radiate the day's heat, but you can already hear the splashing of water and the faint laughter of people from inside the impressive building. The main entrance, a massive bronze gate, is opened, but long silken curtains cloak the inside from your view. Four well dressed guards control the flow of guests, inspecting papers and giving directions.
If you look left and right, it appears you are not the only one standing here with a certain reluctance...
Karv is sleeping in his wagon when he here's a knock. He hastily gets up and goes to see who it is. The messenger asks if this is the residence of Karv the Red. Karv replies in his guttural voice.
Me Karve.
The messenger hands him a note then hurries on his way. Karv opens the note bewildered by the fancy handwriting.
Darn, no pictures. I'd better find Dravvorn so he can read this to me. He's really good with letters
Aeron, ever the professional, spends much of the afternoon canvasing the area around 'Istishia's Blessing'. He did not get any inkling that there was anything amiss.
Having spent the last several weeks guiding some plumped up princeling on a hunt in the Dun Hills, he was in need of a good bath. And who knows, this Grilvo Dibaarn may have an offer worth listening to.
He confidently strides up to one of the guards at the door to Istishia's Blessing and hands the man the note.
"I believe I am expected, I have an appointment with Mr Dibaarn." he says in his most official, business like tone.
Adotlin wipes his forehead with a kerchief, astounded by the ferocity of the summer's heat. What would I not give for a night in one of the inns back in Halarahh - at least the rooms were kept chilled at this time of year. He was glad to at least be wandering the street out of his armour, kept as it was in the small temple to Mystra that he was staying in for the duration of his stay in the city.
Scanning the street, the cleric pulled the invitation from his pocket again and studied it. The half-elven lad who delivered it to him that morning was not able to tell him anything about how he knew that Adotlin had been staying at the temple - either this Grilvo Dibaarn had an extensive network of informants that had somehow pierced the Mystran clergy, or this was the work of greater beings at play. Either way, the gravelly voice of Spellfather Mortho echoed in Adotlin's mind.
"Azuth calls you northward to Sheirtalar, and there you will know the path the Lord of Spells has set before you."
Adotlin continues to make his way to the bath house, already imagining the water's cooling embrace, his quaterstaff tapping on the ground in front of hims as he weaves through the crowd. He watches as one of the elemental touched Genasi walks through the door, and scans the area around him for anything that appears to be out of the ordinary for a busy street before he enters the establishment.
With the note in hand, Karv walks up to Dravvon's quarters, but no one answers his knock on the door, and the room behind the small window appears to be empty. Walking back to the main street, his gaze falls upon the arcade of an older building belonging to the muncipality. Here, protected from the relentless sun, merchants and moneychangers have set up tables and market stands. One of the stands is staffed by a dwarf with tanned skin and a white turban, who is surrounded by stacks of parchment, writing one some, flipping through others.
...
Aeron did indeed not find anything out of the ordinary during his inspection tour around 'Istishia's Blessing', except maybe that the customers by and large are made of wealthy citizens or people connected to the Overking of Lapaliiya. Some of them paid respectable sums of money at the gate, some didn't, but Aeron couldn't make out why that was.
Two of the guards are without customers as he steps up. They watch him closely, and one of them seems to cast a small divination spell on the genasi, while the other one accepts the note.
"Welcome to 'Istishia's Blessing', Sir." He makes an inviting gesture towards the silken curtains. "Please follow the main corridor for a few steps until you reach the front desk, where the attendants will take care of your needs and guide you to your destination." With the other hand, he offers Aeron back the invitation.
...
Adotlin doesn't see anything alarming while looking around. To his right, a group of haflings is bargaining about something he cannot see from his current position. On the other side of the street, two elven creatures with tanned skin sit on the silver roof, apparently unbothered by the day's heat. A massive cloaked figure is passing by, carrying the scent of exotic spices and something alchemical, but the impression fades as quickly as the cloaked silhouette does.
As he approaches the gate of 'Istishia's Blessing', Adotlin can see the genasi vanishing between the silken curtains, two guards looking after him with a slightly puzzled expression on their faces. But they compose themselves quickly as they notice his presence, accepting the invitation and welcoming the cleric the same way they did the last customer.
Aeron steps through the curtain into the cool interior of the building. He steps up to the front desk, scanning the room for any hints of something wrong.
After he inspects the area, he turns his attention to the attendant and passes them the note.
"This is a fine establishment, Waukeen truly smiles on us all to be here on such an infernally hot day." He says with his most innocent smile.
While the outer appearance of the establishment is of one of somewhat non-descriptive upper class, the interior is very much not so. Green-blue bronze plating with intricate carvings depicting a water motif - interspersed with symbols of Istishia - cover almost every wall or pillar. Evergreen climbing plants with small, beautiful flowers form almost natural archways to the rooms left and right, separated only by translucent, pastel-colored curtains. It seems the sound of laughter and splashing audible from the street had been a magical cantrip, since the only sounds Aeron can make out from the inside are the twittering of hidden birds and a faint but constant dripping echoing back from everywhere. The air is cool and smells clean. There are no other guests or guards visible inside, but Aeron can see the outlines of a few inconspicuous doors. The silken curtains appear to be enchanted as well, he can see some blurred movement here and there but no voices reach his ears.
The front desk is a huge darkwood oval, formed like a clamp and staffed by three beautiful, veiled women dressed in spectacular blue robes. The one closest to Aeron greets him with a warm smile so genuine it is almost unsettling.
"Welcome to 'Istishia's Blessing', where the cool touch of the Water Lord will wash away all your sorrows." It is hard to see all of her face, but Aeron is sure that those bright, azure eyes can only be half-elven. "You are a first time customer in our house I see?" She inspects the invitation with a swift gaze. "And a guest of Lord Dibaarn, no less. Indeed, Waukeen smiles upon you, honored guest." She makes an inviting gesture ahead, where the main corridor continues behind the desk. "Please, follow me towards the private area. I will show you where to store your clothes and items before entering the pool." With graceful steps, she leads Aeron further into the building.
Well I guess he's not here right now. Hey I'll just ask that guy, I bet he's really good with letters!
In a way that looks least frightening as possible Karv goes up to the dwarf.
Hi friend, me Karv. You have nice beard. Karv wish he could have beard like that. You look really good with letters, could you read note for Karv? Karv no good with letters
It takes a second for the dwarf to notice Karv. "Gimme a moment, I am almost finished..." he mumbles while scrabbling furiously, ending his notes with a bold swing of his inkpen. Only then does he really look up. "Heavens! Young fellow, you've been way too long in the sun. Come on here, stand in the shadows, your skin must be cooking from the look of it." He gestures inside the arcade. "Well, a letter you say? Let's see... oh my, the old Dibaarn? Well, you certainly are connected. The old saying, never let appearances fool you, yes?" He inspects the wax seal more closely. "This is genuine I believe, yes, very nice..."
As if coming out of a daydream, he looks up again. "Sorry, old habits, I have a thing for heraldry. Back to the letter. It seems you have been invited by the old Dibaarn to a private meeting in the bath house 'Istishia's Blessing', today at sunset." He peeks skywards. "Which is soon, I'd say." Handing the letter back to Karv, the dwarf scans him more closely. "I have to say, I envy you. I met Dibaarn once, two years ago. Nice fellow, considering he is one of the richest merchants in town. But the old saying, never let appearances fool you, yes? His fingers are probably in every honeypot within the city walls, like it is with all the upper class folks."
After reassuring himself that no one else is close by, the dwarf leans over his table. "Normally I'd charge you two coppers for my services, but maybe you mention my name in front of old Dibaarn, if possible, and we keep this a service among likeminded folks, yes? Name's Glain Khimar." He offers his hand, smiling nervously at Karv.
Stepping into the foyer of the bath house, Adotlin's eyes are agog at the appearance of it. "By Azuth's beard," he exclaims quietly, barely able to contain his astonishment at the opulence before him. Attempting to collect himself before he makes a complete tourist of himself, Adotlin steps forward to the blue-robed attendants and hands over the invite to them.
"Excuse me there, but could you please tell Lord Dibaarn that I have arrived as per his request and direct me to where I may be received by him."
The two remaining attendants smile at Adotlin, and one of them steps forwards to greet him. "Welcome to 'Istishia's Blessing', where your weary feet and your troubled mind will find the refreshing touch of the Water Lord." After reading the note, her turquiois eyes look at Adotlin again. "Everything seems to be in order. Please follow me, honored guest. I will show you to the private area, where you can change before seeing your host, Lord Dibaarn."
Following her fluid steps, Adotlin walks further down the corridor. They pass three openings to both sides until the lithe woman stops and invites him through a white curtain. The room on the other side is filled with a few benches, tables and lockers, all carved from darkwood. A huge copper basin hanging from the ceiling is burning incense. Behind a pair of lockers Adotlin can see the shape of another person, a man with bright hair.
"Here you can store your clothes and use fresh towels. To your right you will find the rest rooms, to your left you will find the entrance to the pool area, where Lord Dibaan is waiting for you with refreshments. If you have any questions or need anything, ring one of the bells and we will service you."
And with a final smile, she leaves Adotlin behind.
Hearing some one else enter the locker room, Aeron peeks his head around the lockers and gives a nod to the newcomer.
"You get an invitation too?" he asks the human. We appear to be in for a change in our fortunes," he continues.
After stowing his gear he grabs a towel and strides naked around the lockers, throwing the towel over his shoulder. I am Aeron Vestrili, guide and scout, it is good to make your acquaintance." he says, giving a slight bow to the human.
Adotlin smiles at the lithe woman who showed him to the locker room as she leaves, before turning his attention to disrobing himself. As he strips himself of his clothing, he looks up as the air-touched genasi speaks up. "Yes, I received an invitation to meet with someone here," he responds.
He also stows his belongings into one of the lockers, keeping on his person only the holy symbol around his neck. "And it is good to meet you also, Aeron Vestrili. I am Adotlin Loyalar, a humble servant of Azuth the Lord of Spells." Adotlin motions with a slight nod to the doorway to the left. "Perhaps we should not keep our 'sponsor' waiting for too much longer, lest he use up all of the chill in the water. After you?"
Thank you bearded one. I really could use a bath, it's been a week or two. Bye New friend.
Karv takes off at swift jog... in the opposite direction from the bathhouse but turns around after a word from the dwarf.
Karv goes through all the procedures the others had to go through and arrives late
As Karv arrives at the front gate of 'Istishia's Blessing', the guards seem a bit on edge at first. but after inspecting his invitation, they let him in like they did the others before.
The attendants at the front desk however show no sign of distress upon Karv's appearance, and one of them leads the tiefling towards the private area and instructs him about the services. Karv immediately notices the two men without clothing heading to the left , but the attendant doesn't explain the scene and leaves all three of them alone.
Karv will put his cloths into one of the lockers and head over to the men carrying the note.
Excuse me. Me Karv and Karv need to meet with some man who wrote this note. Do you know where that man is?
Adotlin turns around at the large fey'ri speaking with him, startling at the appearance of the man. He composes himself as quickly as he can, taking the note off of Karv and reading it with a smile. "You happen to be in luck then, Karv. We happen to be off to see the same person as you are, and he is apparently just through here," he says, motioning to the doorway that he and Aeron both stand in as he hands the invitation back to Karv.
Dravvorn gets the message in the main library of the city...
have to stop burning the midnight oil, hopefully the bathhouse will be one of the less regal establishments...
Dravvorn moves speedily to reach the bathhouse...
After much searching, Kaelmourne finally finds 'Istishia's Blessing'. Not understanding how the person knew he was entering the city gates this morning, he pensively stares at the building for a long moment before deciding to enter. Taken aback by the heretofore unseen opulence of the interior of the establishment, the elfish male unconsciously takes a step back. A jungle hidden inside
So absorbed is he in the tableau set out before him, he fails to notice the attendants until one of them approaches him, welcoming him to the bathhouse. Startled, his golden eyes fly open before he can recover his wits.
As Dravvon steps out of the library, the evening sky is glowing in a deep, red tone. The air is still warm and smells of the day's burning heat, but now that the sun is gone the streets awake once again with activity. Lights are being ignited, wine dealers bring their stands in the open, and the crowds come out of the shadows. All this causes an unwanted delay for Dravvorn, and he bumps more than once into another person on his way.
...
The attendant in front of Kaelmourne smiles at him, waiting patiently until his gaze comes back to her. While she greets him, her azure eyes seem to linger curiously on his intricate tattoos, but she doesn't give away any of her thoughts. She raises her arm to invite Kaelmourne further into the establishement, as a new male voice speaks behind him.
The speaker seems rushed, but he carries a note suspiciously similar to Kaelmourne's. He somehow radiates a subtle but dire aura, clashing with his current condition.
...
Aeron, Adotlin, and Karv step through the archway and into a world of water. A corridor lined with small cascades, forming showers on both sides of the way, opens into a huge pool. The corridor bends a little, so that the three men can't see the whole room ahead, but it seems the pool is divided into separate areas, some of them swirling, some not. Everything is tiled with white stones, showing the same motifs and signs as seen before. Palms and ferns form small patches of green here and there, and the air smells like a fresh breeze on the open sea.
Aeron takes in the smalls and feels the cool air in the room and it seems all the drudgery of the hunt with the princeling melts away.
turning to his companions he says, "I can see why they keep this place so private, if I could get in here on a more regular basis I might never leave."
Aeron motions for the others to follow as he enters the room, looing for their potential benefactor and for anything else that might seem amiss.
With Aeron leading the way, the trio passes the cascades until they stand in front of the open room. The pool takes up most of the space and is indeed divided into several smaller areas surrounding a central expanse. The water in every compartment is colored in a different shade of blue, resulting in a colorful, sparkling spectacle. A low runway surrounds the entire pool, arranged with garden pottery and silver plates filled with fruits and drinks. The ceiling is covered in wines, and a number of lights are hanging down like fruits, shedding soft light.
A gnome with a white shock of hair occupies the central pool, resting in what must be a submerged seat. He turns around as the three men step closer and raises a small glass. "Ah, my friends, you have arrived! Welcome, welcome! Please join me, the water is quite nice." He smiles at you and a number of laughing lines appear on his face, showing that he is probably much older than his guests. "The wine is a bit dry for my taste today, but I can wholeheartedly recommend the green juice spritzer." He gestures towards on the the plates to his left.
Aeron notices a wooden box and number of documents behind the gnome, an inkpen and a small leather bag on top. Other than that, the gnome seems as naked as they are.
Adotlin chuckles and nods at Aeron's comment. "Indeed, especially with that damnable heat outside. Even the waiting room at the front was cooler than outside, and I daresay that those who could afford to be here on a regular basis can also afford not to leave should that be their wish."
As the trio are greeted by the white-haired gnome, Adotlin smiles and gives a small bow of his head before hanging the toweling cloth on a nearby hook. "Thank you for your hospitality, I shall take you up on that." The cleric steps down gingerly into the water, letting the cooling liquid envelop his foot to test the temperature before letting himself sink in up to his chest. He scoops some of the water into his hands and begins to pour it across his own shoulders and neck, allowing himself to relax in the comfort of the water.
"I must say, this certainly is a treat. Never before have I experienced such a hellish temperature, even in all of the hottest summers of Halruaa. For this alone I am in your debt, lord gnome."
"Lord!" The gnome laughs out loud. "Please, not you too. Sir Dibaarn or Master Dibaarn will suffice, I am not of noble blood." He gulps down the est of his drink, still chuckling. "It is only due to my wealth that people like to adress me as lord, although I suspect it is a habit born in caution and customs rather than honesty, since with all those cousins of someone important running around you never know who might take offense."
"And yes, Master Loyalar, this early summer might suggest that we become coterminous with one of the planes of hell." Dibaarn gives Karv a rogish wink, but it appears innocent and not malicious.
Karv jumps in the pool with a yell.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So soothing. Karve no burn no more.
Aeron slides into the water, feeling the miles of the road melt off him as he submerges. He wades up to the gnome and grabs a 'green juice spritzer' taking a full pull from the bottle.
"Thank you for the hospitality, Master Dibaarn. Is this all the invitees or are we waiting for others."
As Karv jumps into the water, the gnome lifts the refilled glass above his head just in time before the waves reach him. He doesn't comment this behaviour, but the laughing lines around his eyes seem to deepen for a moment. To Aeron, he lifts his drink to clink glasses. "Well, I was hoping for five interested individuals to arrive, so maybe let's wait a few minutes before I go into business details."
Dibaarn looks at Adotlin. "Would you be surprised to hear that I spend indeed many of the past days within these walls? I grew tired of my estate, where everyone knows how to find me. This here," he makes an all-encompassing gesture, "allows for some privacy in business and pleasure alike."
As if remembering something from before, he turns his full attention to the Aeron again."Speaking of noble blood before, Master Vestrili, how was your hunting trip? I heard you had a client of noble blood? Guessing from your reputation, I dare say the undertaking was successful, yes?"
Dravvorn motions for the attendants to show him the way in at the bath house...
Kaelmourne turns at the sound of the voice to see its speaker. He looks the man up and down for the hint of a threat before stepping away to follow the lovely azure eyes further into the building.
Kaelmourne doesn't get the impression that the man has malicious intents towards him, his initial reaction might have been nothing more than a reaction from being startled.
Kaelmourne and Dravvorn are both led by the attendant into the changing room further down the hall. The way she adresses them both while explaining the services it becomes apparent to each of the men that the other one is not a regular customer but must have received an invitation similar to his own.
The delicate woman leaves with an auspicious smile, leaving the half-elf and the tiefling alone.
Adotlir opens his mouth to speak as the devil-touched man that followed them into the bath house leaps into the water, and instead of words filling his mouth he has water for his troubles instead. The cleric grabs his towel and wipes his face with it, opening his mouth and letting the water empty into the cloth rather than spit it back into the pool in front of the others. He turns back and, with a chuckle, reaches for the decanter to fill a glass with the green juice.
"It must indeed be hot outside, if even our friend here is feeling it," Adotlin says, reaching also for a piece of fruit before turning to Karv and offering the fey'ri the freshly poured glass of juice spritzer. "And given how lovely it is in here, it does not surprise me in the least to find that you would prefer to spend the majority of your time in here rather than your own estate. Which I have no doubt is lovely also, if you can afford to spend your days relaxing and conducting your business here."
He lounges back into the edge of the pool and takes a bite of the piece of fruit, cupping his free hand under his lip to catch the juice that pours from the bite before it can get into the water or worse, his beard.
Aeron is not surprised to find that Master Dibaarn knows about the hunting trip, news of that sort travels fast in some circles.
"Officially, the princeling was as a tiger on the prowl. Between you and I, he barely knew which end of the spear to hold."
Dravvorn calmly lowers himself into the pool like a prowling cat and studies the area warily...
Kaelmourne steps out into the pools still clad in his belongings. He squats down against the wall near the door.
"I can imagine," Grilvo Dibaarn laughs at Aeron's dry comment. "I am not a skilled hunter myself, and I don't try to be one, at least with animals as prey." He looks up as the two men join them. "Ah, you came! Welcome, and please, join us. I was hoping to see you all here, and now that it came true I believe I have Waukeen's blessing indeed." Smiling at Kaelmourne, he makes an inviting gesture. "Master Caladrel, I believe? Please, don't be disrespectful, join us in the cool water?"
Dravvorn's speaks in the demonic tongue
Since it seems we are all here, I am curious what would make you bring together such a diverse group Master Dibaarn?
Aeron tries to look relaxed, but is inwardly on his guard.
Karv somehow makes abyssal sound cheery. Like he's going to love ripping out your soul.
Kaelmourne sidles over to the edge of the pool and looks into the water before he begins removing his clothing and gear. Stripping down to nothing, he slides into the pool, watching the others.
With the group beginning to talk amongst each other, Grilvo Dibaarn is the only one to pay serious attention to Kaelmourne. He isn't openly staring, but the tattooed rogue gets the impression that the circumstances of this meeting were chosen exactly for this: seeing the other party uncloaked and in the open. The knife seem to have slipped the gnome's eyes though, or he masked his reaction with a surprising degree of self control.
"Well, friends," Dibaarn raises his voice, a refilled glass in hand. "Now that everyone's here, and you all enjoy yourselves, let me lay out why I send you this invitation in the first place."
He leans back in his seat. "As most of you undoubtedly know, Lapaliiya's regency is one of name alone for the most party. The back and forth between the city-states, Ithmong, and Lushpool, is missing the purpose a real, united nation would enjoy, which in return encourages a certain... shall we say initiative amongst the nobility and the merchants."
"In the years past, I was one of those who played the game of smiles, contracts, and rumors in the shadows. Waukeen saw fit to grant me success in my endeavors, and I am still alive to enjoy the fruits of those years, but I grew tired of it. Tired of the games and the smiles concealing hidden agendas." He takes a sip and looks at the ceiling, as if trying to remember something. "However, with a history like mine, one doesn't live in Sheirtalar and not be part of this eternal dance."
"And so I continue to have contacts in all the surrounding cities and meet old business partners or relatives of the Overking every now and then. But to me, it has become a game within a game." He appears amused by his own words.
"Back to you, as you must already think me an old fool rambling. You see, it is customary for people like me to hire all sorts of people with the skills necessary for the business. I haven't done it in a while, but I still get reports and whispers from all of Lapaliiya about promising individuals, foreigners, and people with uncommon talents. Some would call it spying, and I will not try to defend it. Don't look surprised, young guests, for I am not the only one to have read a note or two about you. Several of my former colleagues and partners have undoubtedly done the same by now. It is a vital part of the eternal search for the ultimate advantage in this game."
"But as I said, I am not getting back to old habits," the gnome chuckles here, "Well, not all of them. One of the projects I kept in the recent years is a long-term deal made with a skilled alchemist, who lives a number of miles from here to the west in a small town. But now something happened that I did not anticipate, and I am looking for someone capable and unaffiliated - hence the invitation you all got."
"For the past 8 years, this alchemist created something very special every winter, a magical white apple, utterly poisonous to the touch. For an assassin, this would be potent weapon indeed, yet my interests are more of an academic nature. I tried to keep this arrangement a secret - no small task in a city like this, for sure! I am fairly certain that I succeeded in that, however, last winter I didn't get a new white apple."
Dibaarn makes a dramatic pause, before continuing. "Since the usual letters were left unanswered, I send one of my trusted administrators to see if anything happened, but the alchemist was still alive, saying he simply hadn't been successful in his process. I don't know about the process myself to know if that was the truth, but we kept in touch for a while, until he became silent again."
“This time, my administrator found the alchemist's home abandoned. He investigated for a while, quite unsuccessfully, and I have wondered ever since what might have happened. This is where you are concerned, young guests, if I managed to spark your interest. What I'd like to propose is this: travel to this town I spoke of, and start a new investigation. My administrator found some clues, and he is certain that something strange is going on, but none of the locals would talk to him. Find the reason why the alchemist left so suddenly, or if someone there knows about the secret deals we had. I believe that you all have unique talents for an undertaking like this, and like I said, nobody connects you with my name – for now.”
Emptying his glass, Dibaarn adds a last detail, as if it were a minor afterthought. “I would pay you 250 Gold each for this, plus expenses, one half now and the other half to be paid by my administrator, who is already on his way to the area in another matter, but he'll meet you there. Success is not a prerequisite for full payment, if you can prove that there isn't anything to be found, the gold will be yours regardless.”
Aeron takes this all in with the practiced neutral manner learned from years of mercenary work. 250 gold is quite the payday to find one little alchemist.
"Master Dibaarn, for 250 gold I will bring him back tied up in a sack." he boasts. "Just point us in the right direction."
Dravvorn looks the gnome over and speaks as he hears the offer... His voice is angry, not in the way of a hot, blistering buffoon but in the way of a general eyeing an officer who just got a quarter of the army killed...
Your price might be good for a common sellsword but yet note that I and my friend here are not common sellswords. My power is given to me by the Abyss, through my sword the might of demons is channeled. I am an heir of a bloodline that has survived thousands upon thousands of years... However I am not inclined to just gold for my services, there are various favors that a gnome in your position can offer. Things like ancient, privately held libraries run by self righteous holy orders that contain knowledge I require.
Adotlir listens to the gnome tell of his story of poisonous apples and missing alchemists with a stoic sense of curiosity. Given the apparent potency of such a weapon, the thought of it being in the wrong hands was a frightening one to say the least.
"Well, Master Dibaarn, I certainly don't speak for the others here, but I believe that you have my, shall we say, academic curiosity piqued. That there is a payment involved is a sheer bonus, and two hundred and fifty gold along with expenses is more than ample for even an uncommon sellsword. You will have my aid in this venture."
The gnome listens to the anwers, touching his chin thoughtfully. Dravvorn's harsh response causes him to give the tiefling an evaluating glance, but his face doesn't show anger or surprise.
"Although I applaud your bravery, Master Dravvorn, it would be unwise to announce this heritage of yours to anyone making you an offer you find unacceptable. As for the favors you imply I am capable to offer, don't overestimate my reach. True, there are things I have access to, favors I can call in, but the only order to speak of would be the church of Waukeen. As for their library, I can only guess how ancient it is. You would have to be more precise in what it is you seek."
Ya we no regular sellswords. We have demon magic and Karv red
Whispers to Dravvorn in abysal
Aeron bristles at the insinuation that he is some mere sellsword, for he has an extra planar heritage as well.
Well, we mere sellswords are going to need fast horses, and possibly some other gear. When did you plan for us to be leaving on this little mission?
I have a wagon I live in that's pulled by horsies.
"I never said that you were mere sellswords," the gnome adresses the two tieflings. "I am sorry if I offended your sensibilities, but 250 Gold is a fair rate for a first-time offer about a low-risk investigation to an unknown party - at least in Sheirtalar."
"As to how you would get to the location of interest, rest assured that I will provide you with the necessary equipment for such a trip, including horses. I am also willing to negotiate a deal where you, if successful in this endeavour, may keep the horses, since they are not among the commodities I am building my business upon."
Dibaarn gives each and every one of them a look, as if trying to anticipate their next reactions. "If you are willing to do this for me, I would appreciate a timely departure. It doesn't look like the weather will cool down anytime soon, so you'd have to endure the road regardless, and I am anxious to learn of my alchemist's fate."
"If we agree on these terms, I would like you to sign a contract," he gestures towards the parchments behind him. "Nothing fancy, it is a simple template available at the church of Waukeen, but it helps in maintaining a good business relationship."