Ready to start! I'll spoiler everyone's opening.
JYM:
TOMBROSE:
URO:
ROSE:
After the match, you receive a note from a courier, sealed in a watertight pouch, and wonder whether it's another arena challenge. In any event, you aim to get indoors and dry off first, before the battle-eupohoria wears off.
THE NOTES:
Greetings, and I trust this missive finds you in good health. My name is Lavinia Vanderboren and I humbly request your attendance at dinner at my estate on Festival Street and Blue Skink Lane tomorrow evening. I think that I can present an opportunity uniquely suited to your skills. Please inform the carrier of this letter of your response to this invitation, and I hope to be speaking to you soon.
Thomas Bernard Rose reads the letter, smiling as he does so. I hope she doesn't need a seamster for this unique opportunity. He grins widely as he says to Jym Please inform Lady Vanderboren that I will be pleased to accept her gracious invitation.
A few of these coppers are going to have to be spent on more suitable dress. No grog tonight, I'm afraid.
Please inform Lady Vanderboren that I will be pleased to accept her gracious invitation.
"Not dressed like a two-bit sailor, you're not! Oh, wait: you are a sailor, aren't you? Three bits, then. And get a proper belt!" Jym tugs at the waist of Tombrose's pants. "These are much too tight. My oma back in Greenfields always worried about how a tight waist affected digestion. And it's said that my opa had problems... down there. Have you considered suspenders?" Jym snaps his suspenders against his chest before tugging some more at the other halfling's pants. "Did you sew these yourself? You should see a professional. Especially since we'll be served dinner. It would be a shame to sully Lady Lavinia's tragedy with your heartburn. Also, I like your cloak!"
Uro gets down on one knee to pass Jym a well worn wicker cage. Its disrepair a stark contrast to the beautiful and brightly colored birds inside. "I will need the cage returned to me. I have only the one." he adds in a heavy orcish accent.
Uro smiles a wide grin, showing off an impressive set of tusks as he happily tucks away the gold, but raises an eyebrow to the note. After looking it over, he nods to the halfling. "Please inform your Lady the I will be accept her invitation." He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Should I.. come armed?" the massive orc looks uneasliy at the massive axe strapped to his back.
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"Please inform your Lady the I will be accept her invitation."
Jym stares at the birds in the cage with wide eyes. He literally coos at them before commenting on their beauty. He sticks his finger into the cage to stroke one of the birds before hissing and yanking his finger back out when one of the birds pecks at his slender apparently worm-like digits. Glaring at the offending bird, Jym twists the cage around to admire the birds on the other side.
"Beautiful! Aggressive, but beautiful! Here's a few extra coins to pay for the cage. You should be able to buy yourself a new one. In fact, my sister's husbands's uncle probably has some for sale in his cart. You know Fendal's Pets in the Champions District? Well, he doesn't stop there. Not since Fancy Mister Fendal made a fat joke about my sister's husband's uncle's wife, but down the street at The Trophy Hunter, he brings his cart around there every Moonday just after lunch time. Quality cages, made by my cousin and his dim-witted father. Head injury. Fell off the dining room table eight or nine years past. Slipped on a roast pheasant. Shameful. I wonder how often these birds lay eggs?"
"Should I.. come armed?" the massive orc looks uneasliy at the massive axe strapped to his back.
"Uh, obviously? That's got to be why she wants to see you, you lovable brute. Do you think these birds shed or molt often? These colors are amazing! It would be a real feather in my cap if I could use one of these feathers for my ha--hmm, nevermind. Maybe some sort of feathered trinket? But expect the house guard to hold your weapons for you when you reach the estate. They won't expect a tip for that service. I think."
Heedless of dignity or protocol, Rose drags the courier out of the rain, under a bright awning that barely protects them from the deluge. Droplets spatter the parchment from where they drip from short black bangs. “Is this a…formal dinner? Do I need to look professional or nice? Well, I can ask my dad tonight.” Rapid-fire questions break off as silver eyes turn pensive. I wonder if we still have that dress Mom got me. I hope it doesn’t smell after all these years. Ew.
“I’ll be there! Does she need a hunting party? Well, I’ll find out. But I’ll certainly accept her offer! Um, to dinner at least. So yes.” An awkward smile is offered to end the verbal downpour, as Rose tugs on the blade cover to her scythe.
Uro's head spins trying to keep up with Jyms family lineage and eventually stops following along. He does however graciously accept the coin to his purse.
"I wonder how often these birds lay eggs?"
If the results are good enough: "They must be two years old before they are fertile, but after that, two to six eggs per year is common."
With that, he waves to the halfling and heads off to the champions district, thinking of what sort of new cage he will buy with his coin.
Maybe a nice metal one with a door? Something collapseable? That would make it so much easier to carry.. the orc wanders off, head in the clouds. Almost literally.
"Suspenders can get caught in the rigging too easily. A good belt might be a good start, but I think I need a whole new outfit. The cloak is something I made. These old rags are just my work clothes, which I've kept in working order for about ten years now. And, by the way, if I'm not a professional in your opinion, then why did you commission me for the shroud?" Tombrose frowns, making his own assessment of Jym's outfit. "You could really use a vest or coat to hide the suspenders, so some longshank don't grab you and play you like a puppet. I bet that would cause some 'issues down there'."
As far as Jym can tell, Uro's information regarding egg-laying in tropical birds is gospel. However, Uro is a little mixed up regarding species, and might be confusing these birds' mating habits with those of some other birds he likes to eat.
"Suspenders can get caught in the rigging too easily. A good belt might be a good start, but I think I need a whole new outfit. The cloak is something I made. These old rags are just my work clothes, which I've kept in working order for about ten years now. And, by the way, if I'm not a professional in your opinion, then why did you commission me for the shroud?" Tombrose frowns, making his own assessment of Jym's outfit. "You could really use a vest or coat to hide the suspenders, so some longshank don't grab you and play you like a puppet. I bet that would cause some 'issues down there'."
Jym spends most of the time Tombrose is talking snapping his own suspenders. Eventually he looks up and says "Ladies love these! See you at the dinner!"
As you arrive at the Vanderboren estate, Jym opens the gate for you and escorts you inside. Inside, you see a number of people already in the hall: a jaunty male half-elf in leather armor, festooned with daggers; a dark-skinned hill dwarf with a sour expression, dressed in green and brown robes and holding a spear; an attractive but haughty-looking woman in purple robes, with a crescent moon tattoo on one cheeck; and a tall, handsome human in a breastplate, with a bastard sword slung across his back.
Jym:
The man in the breastplate seems quite alert. Almost as soon as you walk in, he says, "Hmmm. You must be the help Levinia's bringing in to do the chores. Best of luck to ya!"
Tombrose spends 1gp to furnish himself with a new traveler's outfit. The clothes may not be fancy, but they are clean and not raggy from years of years of use.
When plateman addresses them, he takes stock of the others, wondering what kind of chores a noblewoman could find this odd collection of use for, but he remains silent. Handsome humans often learn cruelty early in his experience.
The man in the breastplate seems quite alert. Almost as soon as you walk in, he says, "Hmmm. You must be the help Levinia's bringing in to do the chores. Best of luck to ya!"
"Sure, sure. A little light dusting, some window washing. Do you know if any hors d'oeuvres are to be served before dinner? I haven't eaten for at least an hour! I like your baldric! Very fancy!"
With Jym's quick comment, the man's face reddens, and everyone in the room is instantly aware of the social shift -- as if Jym is the master and the armored man one of the servants.
Jym's pudgy fingers twiddle nervously as he glances around for the hors d'oeuvres dish that has to be around here, somewhere.
"Back in Greenfields a host never keeps guests waiting for hors d'oeuvres! Not because it's bad form, but it's a matter of practicality. Imagine standing around trying to conduct a proposal (business or marriage), but, suddenly, a stomach grumbles! Sure, it's embarrassing for the grumbler, but it's even worse for the grumblees! Conversation comes to a stand still, and the awkwardness can only be overcome when another stomach grumbles. First of all, it's extremely difficult to have your stomach grumble on command -- although my oma would tell tales about how her father could grumble on command; he was a successful businessman, obviously -- but aside from all that, a second stomach grumble merely passes the embarrassment to the new grumbler. This would lead to all participants feeling the need grumble, which as you can imagine would take quite a long time! Standing around all day in someone's foyer waiting for the requisite grumbles would make everyone involved quite peckish, let me tell you. And of course, this lead to the practice of never asking for a hand in marriage during a business meeting, a tradition which still exists today.
"You guys look important. I bet she didn't make you wait for your stomachs to grumble. Where are those hors d'oeuvres?" Jym pulls a pastry out of his emergency pastry pocket and nibbles on it.
Uro remains silent until Jym is through explaining the long history of the ill timed stomach grumble. When he is through, Uro looks over to the man in the breast plate and asks plainly: "Do you know what these chores are?"
The man shakes his head. "To be honest, Lavinia hasn't ever had us to dinner. As for chores, I have no idea what you highborn lordlings do. I'm Tolin, by the way" (gesturing at the others) "We're the Jade Ravens -- perhaps you've heard of us?"
"We're the Jade Ravens -- perhaps you've heard of us?"
Jym shrugs mentally -- not ringing a bell with him.
A Knowledge (Warfare) check is also permissible.
Tombrose cannot contain a laugh when called highborn. After the laugh breaks our of his lips, he looks at the floor. "I'm about as highborn as a mop. Still, at least I'm e'ry bit useful as a mop. Don't know what anyone would ever do with a raven made of jade-wouldn't even make a decent masthead. I believe the lady's note said we were talented, not of proper pedigree."
Thankfully, Jym's concern regarding hors d'oevres is potentially misplaced. A set of double doors is opened by a halfling servant, revealing the dining room beyond, which overlooks the manor's central courtyard. A large portrait hangs on one wall, a fine work depicting a handsome young man with a short beard and a sneer on his face. Standing before the portrait is an attractive human woman in her early 20s wearing a long, flowing blue dress, who smiles as you enter.
"Welcome," she says. "I'm Lavinia Vanderboren. Thank you so much for accepting my invitation. Won't you please be seated?" She gestures to the table, where settings are already laid out -- for the foodies among you, it appears to be marsh hen with capers in a wine butter reduction, served with rice and beans, and accompanied by a white wine.
As you sit, she is already speaking, as if in a rush to get it out. "To be blunt, I need your help. As you are no doubt aware, I recently inherited this estate. Along with the house, however, came a sizeable debt owed to the Dawn Council, the harbormaster, and number of guild halls. It seems my parents, for all their success, were not skilled at finance. I normally wouldn't act so quickly after their deaths, but if I'm to avoid being evicted, I need to access the family vault under Castle Teraknian immediately."
She takes a sip of wine, "But that's a problem. The vaults are magically locked, keyed to a magical signet ring that my father kept aboard his ship, the Blue Nixie. And, unfortunately, the harbormaster has seized the ship as collateral. I paid the fines to the 'official' posted on the ship -- a brute named Soller Vark -- but I still wasn't allowed on board, and Vark pretended to my face that I hadn't payed. My complaints to the harbormaster fell on deaf ears -- he's either too busy or too senile to do his job."
She ignores the food, although pausing to make sure you get a chance to eat before making her pitch.
"So I need someone who knows the harbor -- you, Master Rose. And someone to act as my agent -- that's where you come in, Jym, and many thanks for it. But a man like Vark won't listen to reason or diplomacy. He believes in intimidation..." she smiles suggestively at Uro, "And force," nodding to Madame Blackwood.
"If you can recover the money I already paid, or get my ship free from its impoundment, or anything close, I'll pay you 200 gold each as soon as I can access the vault. Are you amenable?"
Tombrose sits when invited and waits for a cue as to when eating is ok (whether that cue is an invitation or someone else digging in first. The rice and beans looked alright, but he much preferred fish to fowl. Of course, he never had it prepared properly before now and finds himself pleasantly surprised. He tries his best to be attentive to the Lady's words and be discreet about his eating while trying to fill up.
He smiles as she begins explaining her needs with him at the front. When she makes her offer, more gold than the entirety of his meager worth, he tries not to react to excitedly. "I should be happy to aid in any way I can, and the reward you offer is truly generous, although the task you request is not without its own trials, of course."
Jym's breath exhales in a spray of flaky pastry bits. "Oh, thank the heavens." He hurries to his seat where he enjoys the aroma of the hen for a full minute before taking a nibble and listening attentively.
Glass of wine in one hand and forgotten pastry in the other, Jym raises a couple of questions.
"Lady, are we to board the ship and acquire the signet ring on your behalf?"
"Why not get the City Watch involved?"
Jym sniffs the wine, swirling the class, then takes a sip and inhales while it sits on his tongue. Swallowing the sample, he takes a longer sip and smiles.
"Lady, are we to board the ship and acquire the signet ring on your behalf?"
Lavinia smiles. "That would be a very acceptable outcome. Actually getting the Nixie out of hock, with the ring still on board, would be even better, and worth a bonus."
"Why not get the City Watch involved?"
"That's my fault. I did go to the Watch, but I could show no proof of wrongdoing." She sighs. "In hindsight, it was foolish of me to hand over the money to Vark without allied witnesses. Well, what's done is done. The Watch has promised to look into the matter -- but without any evidence, that will no doubt take a back seat to other, more pressing matters."
Tombrose bristles.
Rumor aboard one ship you've been on was that he was a good sailor, but was beached (and blacklisted from future voyages) for coercibly sodomizing the young cabin boy. He's been longing to sail again ever since, and is rumored to boast of one day joining a pirate crew, if they'd have him -- if only he had the contacts and the nerve.
Your best guess is that he was legitimately assigned the repo of the Blue Nixie for past-due mooring fees, and instead of putting it into drydock, it looks like he simply moved aboard with some of his gang and are living there like squatters.
Tombrose frowns, his eyebrows creasing. "Vark is a sturgeon poacher who wants to be a shark. He likely has a bunch of his guppies holed up like rats in the hold of your ship as we speak, Lady Vanderboren, and it's unlikely anything but a big cat would remove them." He looks at Uro, smiling once again. "Fortunate, then, that you thought to bring one into the foray."
Uro finishes his marsh hen in two bites, consuming all but the largest bones along with the meat. He nods at Tombrose and looks back to Lavinia. "If this scoundrel and his men are squatting illegally on your property, they will be removed." the orc says matter-of-factly.
"That's three out of four of us," Jym says looking pointedly at Rose.
The Jade Ravens apparently weren't invited to dinner. Your understanding is that they left on some other errand soon after you talked with them.
So, it seems that you've all agreed except Twilight Rose, who appears to have become bored and wandered off. Jym, Tombrose, and Uro -- unless you have stops you want to make first -- with Tombrose guiding you, you arrive at the pier where the Blue Nixie is tied up without any trouble.
These guys will probably be dug in, So we may want to approach with both eyes open wide. They're not likely to admit any wrongdoing. Tombrose looks towards the ship, gauging her seaworthiness almost by instinct.
Jym stands at the end of the pier studying the Blue Nixie.
"You know, back in Greenfields, my cousin Rornan built a boat! He used a bedsheet to tie two anchovy barrels together. It wasn't much to look at, but Rornan was so proud! He named it Rornan's Water Craft! Roranan was clever, but not so good with the naming of boats. Anyway, we all called it Rornan's Water Hazard, but never where Rornan could hear, but he found out about the name, anyway. He got pretty upset, but at the end of the day, we all agreed that the ship would have two names: Rornan's Water Craft, when Roranan was atop the boat, and Rornan's Water Hazard, when the boat was atop him. This ship reminds me of Rornan's boat, although there are a few differences, of course, not the least of which is that this ship is crawling with hooligans.
"Should I talk to them before or after their thrashing?"
Jym stands at the end of the pier studying the Blue Nixie. "Should I talk to them before or after their thrashing?"
"Maybe you can talk our way on to the boat? It will be much easier to trash them if we don't have to run up the gang plank through a hail of stones and arrows."
Jym silently ponders Uro's suggestion for a while before shrugging. He moves to the end of the gangplank leading up to the ship and shouts, "What ho, Blue Nixie!"
An ugly, sallow-faced scalawag, seemingly half drunk, leers at you. "Whatya want, half-pint? Sellin' yer sister?" He licks his lips, showing that he's missing a few teeth. He pointedly does not look at Uro.
"Actually, we're here to buy, not sell! My partner and our drudge'" Jym indicates Uro and Tombrose in that order (a mistake, probably)," want to buy something on this ship that belonged to the previous owner! Permission to come aboard!"
The thug appears confused, but quickly recovers his poise: evidently someone has coached him in exactly this scenario. Drawing a cutlass, he says "Best ye be off, half-men, or I'll be halvin' you agin!"
Opposed intimidate
Uro's anger bubbles up, clearly showing on his face as he bares his tusks. "Put the blade away or I will sheath it in your eye socket." the orc says in a low growl.
Intimidate:
The thug lowers the cutlass uneasily and says, warily, "See the harbormaster -- we're here by rights."
"We've been to the harbormaster. I'm afraid Vark has been overstating his authority again. I'm sure he's had you convinced of the legalities. Best move along before you get any more tangled up in his mess, yes?" Tombrose smiles, glancing at Uro, "Or worse, with him."
"Yeah, what they said."
The ruffian looks confused. "Uh, hold on," he says. Then he shouts at the deck: "Hey, Vark, there's harbormaster people here! Coupla shrimps and a bodyguard, looks like."