The Old Fang Tavern in Magnimar is unusually quiet today, as the stale air and summer heat do the atmosphere no favors. Even the ale tastes sour and flat.
The Masquerade Slasher has put all of Dockside in a foul mood. Rumors abound about the number of victims and why he replaces the face of each victim with a monstrous mask.
Some say he's a madman who sees monsters in all of his victims and just brings them to the surface. Others claim it's the sick game of some aristocrat. Some even claim each victim is a step in a dark and profane ritual.
As you and your companions finish your rounds, a scrawny youngster bursts in the door. "They just put a 25,000 Gold bounty out on that killer Pa! he shouts to a gruff looking man in leather armor. The man nods to his son and leaves the tavern quickly.
Hegin raises his tankard.
Barkeep, give me a strong one and keep em coming.
Rhiannon sits by the fireplace, taking a break from her song to soak her vocal cords in ale. Not exactly the smartest decision ever made, but it seems to be bardic tradition as far as Magnimar went. Her fingers drum against her glass to the rhythm of the song she'd finished only moments ago.
Then she hears the shout over the din of the tavern, and it amazes her that anyone would be stupid enough to announce such a thing so loudly. Her eyebrow curls, and she's halfway ready to stand up and start tracking the Masquerade Slasher down herself. That could go a long way for all of her interests.
"I'd better get 25,000 good reasons for me to stay here in the next few minutes," she mutters to herself, and downs the rest of her drink.
Melifan watches with interest as Rhiannon downs her drink licking his dry lips. When she places the cup down his eyes slowly slide over to Hegin's tankard with the same thirsty look. He swallows hard and tries to renew his composure before nudging Hegin with his elbow. With no reply or reaction forth coming, he nudges Hegin once more.
Ain't ya gonna get your ol' pal Melifan a mug too?
He arches his brows a few times with a bit of a grin and a few more playful nudges trying to coax the dwarf to buy him a round or two.
Come on mate. Ya know the gettin's been tough lately wheres the lack of work for a hired sword an all. Come on Rhiannon, back me up here.
He shoots a glance at Rhiannon and notices her gaze out the door after the loud mouthed kid.
OOOOOhhhh no. Don't you even think 'bout goin after that loon slasher Rhiannon. Anyone crazy nuff ta cut off your face an leave a mask as a callin card ain't worth triple the bounty on his head.
He ponders for a moment.
Okay, maybe triple ya, but double... Wait. The kid did say 25 large right? Geeze, What the hell am I sayin! I'd sell YOUR mother for that much gold.
Melifan chuckles and nudges Hegin one last time.
Tell yeh what, I'll buy this'n, and we have ourselves a little arm wrestl'n competition. Loser buys the next round!
He thinks about the money briefly, but he wouldn't know where to start looking for a murderer the city guard can't even catch. He looks over each of his companions hoping that one of them would come up with an idea to catch the murderer.
Money wouldn't be so bad, but how would we even catch the guy?! The city guard hasn't even found em yet, and they do this for a living!
Zindelo passes time with his recent companions at a low class taproom. He studies as usual the clientele, trying to get read on the mood and size up the affects of the problems of late.
He leans back from the table, leaving his barely touched drink on it. He looks over the room again, seeing if anyone besides the gruff man or his companions take an interest. After noting whatever he sees, he talks to his many friends here.
"Well friends, it seems that the powers that be have finally taken an interest. Mayhap we can be of some assistance to Maginmar and pick up some useful coin in the process."
Zindelo nods, "Welll, that is the rub, don't worry about the city guard, their job is to keep the peace, and stop any crime they see; they aren't much for thinking."
Zindelo thinks for a minute, "What I've heard of these murders is how bizarre they are. The guy or guys doing it wants to be noticed, maybe doesn't care but I don't buy that. Why commit murders? Money, Love, or Hate. So who profits? Who are the victims? Where were they killed, we need facts? Maybe then something will turn up."
He takes a moment to mull over the challenge. On the one hand, win or lose, he had no money to buy a drink. On the other, if he DID lose and couldn't buy the drink, Hegin would probably tear off his arm and beat him with it before Melifan could bleed out.
Aww, come on. Can't ya spot me? Ya know I'm good for... City guard? Those good for nothin... Please. They couldn't find their own a$$es if it wasn't attached. Trust me, I've lived here long enough ta know, if it weren't for people like us, ain't nothin gettin accomplished round here.
He glances back over to the door.
But ya know. I still think goin after that guy would be risky. It's weighin that much money against the beats o' my heart... It's a damn hard decision to make.
"Oh you'll have more company than anyone would want, Rhiannon with that prize."
Yikes!
Zindelo talk more quietly to the others.
Yikes!
"Anyone crazy enough to leave a calling card so deranged is likely a maniac of some breed. Dangerous, certainly, but not necessarily good at dealing with things he hasn't accounted for."
She raises her flagon up as well, asking silently for a refill, her manners just vaguely weathered by her first couple drinks.
"The city guard isn't infallible, and they have rather unfortunate restrictions when it comes to breaking the laws they uphold. A merry band of freaks is always how the legends tell it. 'Everyone has their own talents' and all that horse s$#$."
"If I spent the next month singing and shooting things with arrows I wouldn't be able to scrape together enough coin to be allowed to look at 25,000 gold pieces. I'm starting my investigation once the tab is paid for, whether anyone is joining me or not."
After a moment of daydreaming about what he would do with 25 thousand gold, his eyes drift down to Zindelo's nearly full mug.
Oye, Zindeloooo... Buddyyyy... You gonna drink that?
Without waiting for an answer he begins to reach across the table for the drink, his dry mouth suddenly moist with salivation as his hand inches forward.
Zindelo is about to speak when Melifan reaches for his mug.
"No, be my guest Melifan. Actually friends gather together, a round on me, the house's best."
Zindelo slaps a gold on the table and sends the barkeep off.
Quietly Zindelo says, "I've heard a few things about this. Murdered after sundown, all were grown men of little wealth or status, all the women were the opposite, no kids. The most recent five killings were within sight of the Fifth Wind monument so there's something about the area that's important to the killer, even if it's just convenience."
Sidestepping the young boy who had just moments ago made his proclamation to the entire establishment, Garroth shouldered his way through the door, sweaty and in a less than agreeable mood "Gods damned punk, I should have known the job wasn't worth my time." He patted his empty money pouch, scowling even more at the reminder of his rotten luck.
Entering in time to hear Melifan at it again, trying to weasel his way out of paying for his own drink, Garroth agreed with a sneer "You don't know the half of it, not only is work hard to come by, it downright COSTS you money." he lumbered over to the others, falling heavily on a chair across from the other warriors. "My own fault though, of course he had to be a pickpocket decoy." he tossed the empty money pouch on the table, the cloth falling slowly and impacting the wood without the slightest hint of a *clink*. He brightened up slightly at his next words "Got my hands on him good when he tried to get away, but of course he didn't have a copper on him. Punk pleaded for me not to beat him up, handed me this key and said it was all he had." he pulled out a beat up old skeleton key, its surface worn smooth by the touch of many hands "Don't see how that's goin' to be of any use though." looking from the key to the others and back again, he quickly tucked it away, eyeing them with a suspicious look "Still, its mine now, so don't be gettin' any ideas, ya hear?"
Placing his elbows heavily on the table, he pulled off his helmet and placed it by his side, before holding his head in his hands with a sigh. "Hmmm, yeah, you'd think with a maniac like that on the loose, there'd be plenty of work to go around...but it looks like everyone is too terrified to even go anywhere under protection. Id take a stab at that Slasher just to be able to make a livin'." Straightening up and leaning back into his seat, he wiped back his long greasy hair with a sudden mirth on his face. "Hah, out of a job and penniless...was there ever a better time to drink? Anyone care to loan me a pint or two? You all know I'm good for it."
Garroth slapped Zindelo on the back with a laugh as the man offered his money to pay for everyones drink "Hah!, good thing we've got guys like you "Zindy", Melifan would die of thirst in a week otherwise." He laughed for another long moment before falling silent and taking in everything that was discussed around the table. "Alot of information there Zindy, you been investigatin' already? Lookin' to make a big score on old Slasher?"
Ye all made yer' point. Let's say we assume the city guard is completely inept for the time being where would we start?
I don't know the first thing about em. But if ye insist on goin out t' find 'em I would come with. I'm always l'kin for a good fight.
The bartender brings a round of yet more stale ale and snorts at the gold piece "Houses best for an entire table ha, pays with a gold piece..."
Zindelo spots Garroth as he enters, Garroth good, a better man than he knows himself, perfect. "Join us, just bought a round on the news of the bounty of 25,000 gold marks for the Masquerade slasher."
He adds Garroth to his confidence. (Read the above post.)
Grinning, Melifan snatches up Zinelo's drink and downs it trying to finish it before the round comes. Half way through he hears Garroth's voice and nearly chokes on the drink having not expected him back so soon from his current job. Wiping off the ale he watches as Garroth tossed the empty coin pouch onto the table accompanied by the explanation of the work (or lack there of) and nods solemnly.
Ya know. 25k split among us is... Ya know... Lots...
He empties the last of the ale, sets the mug down and grabs the fresh brew just placed on the table.
Especially if some of us dun make it through. Not sayin any of us won't make it through or nothin. Jus sayin.
He raises his mug in thanks to Zindelo then smiling widely.
Rhiannon gives Garroth a wave when he comes in, and keeps tapping out her tune on the side of the flagon. "You should get stiffed more often, it has you smiling so much that I can see whole decades of age just vanishing from your face." She leans back and smirks, tossing back her drink to get whatever few drops remained. "Mysterious key?" Her eyebrow perks at the sight of it, but she doesn't go much further than that.
Returning to the issue at hand, she straightens herself out and starts letting her mind wander.
"All of this supports my theory about the killer not being anyone of particular skill or ability, just a maniac decent with a knife. Look at his targets; poor men who can't afford a good weapon or the knowledge with it, and high society women whose sole offense is cattiness. Neither are groups capable of defending themselves very well, especially when caught by surprise. Laying a trap for the killer would be the easiest way to get everything settled."
The beautiful elven woman enters into the inn and gracefully glides over to her innfellows. Other patrons look up from their festivities as she saunters in, her perfume very strong.
Greetings, what trouble does this motley crew find ourselves in this fine evening , she says as she waits for one of the gentlemen to pull up a chair for her.
Garroth laughed into his ale as Rhia took a verbal jab at him "Decades you say? Dont let these handsome orcish wrinkles fool you, you know damn well im not a day past 25!" He tossed her a toothy smirk of his own "I don't make a habit of smiling after getting stiffed, but good company makes for a good mood...But I wouldn't object if you decide to "stiff" me. It will certainly make me smile!" he guffawed as he took another long draught, splashes of mead raining down on his chest.
Slamming down the empty mug he shrugged at her, his look more serious as he talked about the potential work "I ain't no detective Rhia, but it sounds like an alright theory. Just point me at the scum and ill show him whos a real Slasher around here." for emphasis he grabbed the hilt of his ornate sword, rattling it a few times in its scabbard.
Spotting another acquaintance of the tavern, he proceeded to pull out the chair next to him as Elra sauntered over "Have a seat there love, always room for another shapely rear."
stands amid the docks, its windsocks towering above
surrounding buildings so as to give all of Outcast's Cove
an easy method of determining wind speed and power.
The sides of the stone pylon that supports the windsocks
are carved with complex images of air elementals and cloud
dragons in fierce battle. Rumor has it that it provides a boon to sailors who pay their respects.
Rhiannon rolls her eyes at him, fingers lifting up off her flagon. She considers prestidigitating his mead to taste of horse dung, but decides against it at the last second, her smirk widening a little as she holds the cup again.
"Please don't shake your sword at the table, we hear enough rattling every time Hegin turns his head." She chuckles as she switches her old flagon for the new, "fresh" drink, and begins to drink it too fast to be criticizing anyone's table manners. "Good morning, Elrawien. We're plotting our trap to capture the Masquerade Slasher, and it's the damndest thing; I was just saying we'd need a woman who looked well off as bait."
Zindelo adds his turquoise to the round then, "My pardons, I did not remember that your fine establishment carried fine wines in its stock, bring the unopened bottle then that fetches such a price, for my friends enjoyment."
Ah, Garroth, you flirty fiend, why is is that your tusks, cute as they are grow whenever I walk into the room? as she sits down.
Bait, dear Rhiannon Mabeleanbh? That does indeed sound most interesting. Tell me more?
Ol' Mam Grottle takes the turqoise from your server and inspects it thoroughly before sending him off to the cellar. In a few minutes he brings up a small barrel. As Ol' Mam Grottle pulls out a small bluish wand and 9 brandy glasses. The server carefully uncorks the keg and a scarlet and caramel liquid is poured into each glass. When this is done Ol' Mam Grottle waves the wand over the glasses and frost forms on each one. She takes one for herself and sends the serving boy to the table with the rest.
This spectacle has drawn the eyes of the entire bar as many mop the sweat off their brows.
Zindelo, "Now to answer you Garroth, I try to know everything that goes on in this town, never know when a chance to turn up coin will appear."
At Elrawien's entry, "Ah, a beautiful maiden to uplift the day, greetings Elrawien." As Rhiannon volunteers the elven miss for bait patrol, he says, somewhat doubtfully, "Baiting the hook catches the fish but fish or no, it's hard on the bait. How would we pull that off, safely? No one will show if our more, solid looking companions showed themselves, and they are not easy to hide."
"Apparently only poor men and rich women are being attacked. It makes sense, since you know as well as I do how many of them are only dangerous in social circles. So, if we were to lure the killer out, we would need a woman who appears rich and not particularly dangerous, at least from a distance. Unfortunately I've sold all any clothes that would make me appear rich, and my hair would make me look like an out-of-place loon in them anyway. That leaves you, unless we can find enough padding to let Melifan fill a dress out."
Finally she paces herself when the expensive brandy hits her lips. As much as she distances herself from her old life, she can't bring herself to drink the classy liquor with anything but slow appreciation.
She turns her attentions to both Zindelo and Melifan
I was recently in the sewers under Magninmaar looking into some wenches who were kidnapped. Too many goblins and too much offal for my tastes. I still have the lingering of that stench on me. Tell me, would you like to wash my back when I decide to bathe in milk and honey? as she tosses her hair back playfully, the shine in her emerald eyes very apparent?
Melifan makes mock gagging and choking sounds as soon as Rhiannon mentions Elrawien as bait.
We can't use her as bait. That psycho loon would be a fool to boot ta try an attack Elrawien. Her perfume alone is enough ta kill a pen full of yacks.
He makes a few more mock choking and coughing gestures and freezes in place cracking an eye to peer at Elawien and grins.
His face goes blank then at the offer of washing her realizing his joke may have ruined his chances.
I would love to! Ya know that bit 'bout the perfume was just a joke right?!
"Dont do it, it wont get you anywhere. Her mouth is dirtier than those same severs but you don't ever get anything but that." Garroth grunted under his breath with a sullen tone, apparently referring to a previous encounter but failing to elaborate further.
Distracting himself from his previous failure, he held up the his glass in a toast to the others. "You might have more luck though Zindy." he added, before depositing the drink into his mouth. Leaning back with his hands behind his head, one leg on the table, he sat with closed eyes and chuckled sofly, sloshing the alcohol around in his mouth and savouring it with a content smile. Finally swallowing, he sat back up with a loud "AAaaaah", slapping his knees. "Ofcourse Im the fool who keeps kissin' up to her anyway, so I cant really blame ya now, can I?"
Looking sideways at Elra, he gave her a soft smile, then lightly nudged her shoulder.
Hegin turns to Melifan.
Got yer foot in yer mouth again, hehe. Try thinkin b'fore ye speak.
Hegin grabs the brandy cup and raises it to Zindelo.
Thanks fer the drink. I toast to you end yer 'ealth.
He quickly downs the entire cup, and wears a scrunched face and shutters.
To rich for me taste, I'll be stickin to the house meade.
Oh little one, I know that you are kidding, just like I am kidding when I say, I hear from the Clerics of the Wasp that milk and honey is the perfect treatment for burn scars
And a sting indeed at the mention of burn scars as Melifan cringes a bit and flops back in his seat. He wasn't sure if that was an intentional jab at him or a simple comment but the words stung none the less as Melifan adjusts his armor to ensure that the burns on his back and left arm were hidden from sight. With a sullen expression and his eyes drifting to the floor next to him, he raises his shot to Zindelo as well and wordlessly down the drink with a slight wince as the burn flows down into his gut.
She leans over to the silenced youth and running her fingers up and down his neck and turns his face to her and kisses him ever so gently on the lips which then turns into a passionate kiss, as she comes up for breath, she looks at Melifan and says, Melifan, you have gotten a much sweeter taste of Elrawien Lantherion, than the half-orc has ever dreamed of. Be a dear and go get me a goblet of wine and whatever you would like as she pulls out 10 gp and hands them to Melifan.
Zindelo smiles at Elrawien's offer but a kick inside tells him this is one risk not worth taking. "A finer evening could not be imagined, my enchanting love, but for me the cooler, more distant road of the Starsong holds me helpless in her grasp, far from the temptations of the Savored Sting." Zindelo notes the dark by-play between Elrawien and Melifan but decides to let him fight his own battles, Zindelo's polite, even generous, but not self-sacrificing.
His eyes bulge for a moment (as does something else that we won't mention) as she kisses him, then melts as she deepens the kiss. When she breaks contact he is a puddle of useless with an idiotic grin on his face having forgotten everything he was thinking of. He stupidly scoops up the coin and stumbles over to the bar floating a bit in his daze. When he gets there he pauses, blinks a few times, then realizes he had even forgotten why he went over to the bar. He turns back with a dumbfounded look.
What was I doing again?
A goblet of their finest wine and whatever else you want. See perhaps if they have some grapes, Melifan that you can feed me?
Ol' Mam Grottle snatches the coins out of Melifan's hands. After pouring a goblet of Violet wine and a tankard of chilled mead she hands them to Melifan.
Ol' Mam Grottle holds up a long receipt and shouts out Thanks for paying you tab your highness
Blinking away the haze, he grabs the drinks and moves over to the table. He places wine in front of Elrawien and sits on the opposite side of the table. He didn't like feeling out of control, which Elrawien had a definite knack of exploiting. Grumbling a bit of thanks to her he sipped his drink blushing deeply and avoiding eye contact.
He mumbles uncomfortably into his mug, I should really know better than to consort with that bee keeper and her lot. Swear she's gonna be the death o'me.
She takes her wine and with a smile grabs an empty chair and pats it. Come and sit by me, Melifan. I am bored. Seeing his hesitation she gets up and sits at a chair right next to him. Leaning into his ear she whispers Isn't this booze just so smooth and delicate, just like the milk bath I want to take later.
He shoots her a warning glare, the jab about the burns floating back to the surface.
Elrawien. Just drop it. Playfulness is one thing but some times you can't take a hint.
He leans back from her a bit and points at his face.
This... is an upset frown. Maybe you don't recognize it ice queen. This usually means I don't wanna play this game anymore.
He then slides the mug she bought for him back in front of her.
You can have that back. I'd rather not owe you any favors. Next thing I know you are offering me up as a sacrifice to your goddess because I drank something you paid for.
He stands up and moves to a corner crossing his arms and brooding a bit. The gesture slid the armor just enough to get a better look at the purpleish red burn marks that crawled up over the left side of his neck and down the back of his left arm to the elbow. It was usually hard to miss beneath the layers but it was obvious he barely survived the ordeal that gave him such wounds.
Don't get too close to the fire, Melifan. Tonight is not too chilly and there is no need to get toasty warm.
He throws her a gesture without looking her way, then turns more fully toward the nearest window and stares out.