Shadow over Riddleport

Game Master Joana

"We cornered his drunken ass in the Goblin last time. This time, we won't show any mercy. We'll kill him for what he did to Larur, and then he'll tell us where Lil is." -- Braddon Hurst


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Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Nodding "Aye, one with the scars is Ranef."


From the portal on the other side of the arena, a half-orc enters: the Notorious Punisher. An olive-green specimen with prominent tusks, he is at least as large as Ranef and clad in black leather armor. The half-orc response to his entrance mirrors that the humans gave Ranef; they howl and hoot in recognition. Across the sand, Ranef seems to forget the existence of the crowd; he scowls at his opponent and hefts his weapon, not a pair of clubs as when he fought Phillip but a single murderous-looking greataxe.


Male Gnome
Piccolo Taphodarian wrote:
Piccolo smiles, hops to his feet, gathers the sketches in an orderly fashion, "Shall I carry them or do you have a bag you wish them placed in to protect them from inclement weather?"

"Weather, hey?" the other gnome snaps. "You worried about them fading from a heavy downpour of evening sunlight? But," he relents grudgingly, "don't want them blowing into the harbor with a stray gust of wind. Tuck them in here, boy, and be quick about it." He opens the opposite side of his portfolio where the pages can lie flat.


Female Human (Varisian) Bard

Entering the kitchen, Gristav holds both spell and staff at the ready, but apart from some scraps of food trailing off a table and onto the floor, he sees no target for his ire. Thuvalia edges up behind him. "There, in the larder," she points to the door to the pantry in the back corner. "I had been practicing to the point of exhaustion and was looking for something to sustain myself with, when I saw the filthy, thieving vermin behind a sack of flour."


Male Dwarf

She appears not to notice Larur as he stumps up behind them with a mace in his hand. "'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" he grumbles, with a sidelong glance at the Varisian woman.


Male Gnome Bard (Negotiator) 2

Piccolo carefully tucks them in the portfolio, "Will, you know your city better than I. I must thank you for a pleasant evening. No better view in the house than this one. I hope I can join you again sometime."

Williplunnet Swevenforey wrote:
"Weather, hey?" the other gnome snaps. "You worried about them fading from a heavy downpour of evening sunlight? But," he relents grudgingly, "don't want them blowing into the harbor with a stray gust of wind. Tuck them in here, boy, and be quick about it." He opens the opposite side of his portfolio where the pages can lie flat.


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Taking his seat and leaning forward in anticipation Phillip sets one hand to smoothing out his mustache. At quiet tone to Braddon he adds "There might be more a little more feeling in this one Braddon..."


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Thuvalia Barabbio wrote:
Entering the kitchen, Gristav holds both spell and staff at the ready, but apart from some scraps of food trailing off a table and onto the floor, he sees no target for his ire. Thuvalia edges up behind him. "There, in the larder," she points to the door to the pantry in the back corner. "I had been practicing to the point of exhaustion and was looking for something to sustain myself with, when I saw the filthy, thieving vermin behind a sack of flour."

"You're welcome to more than flour, I hope you know...", Gristav says as if the larder was his own.

Larur Felden wrote:
She appears not to notice Larur as he stumps up behind them with a mace in his hand. "'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" he grumbles, with a sidelong glance at the Varisian woman.

"Any rat is long gone, or bound for shame among the other rats, too slow in his flight. But if it's been in the flour..."

Gristav searches the larder for ruined foodstuffs, containers, etc, and wishes he'd prepared mending...


Gold Goblin wrote:

The halfling peers at him warily, casting her gaze over the filthy child, the barefoot man wrapped in sailcloth, and the slovenly woman with the bruised face and bloodstained dress before returning to the tall stranger in the wide-brimmed hat. She hesitates a moment, then smiles widely, throwing the door open in welcome. "Customers, Betta!" she calls over her shoulder cheerfully.

he interior of the shop is clean but rather shabby. The plank floor is worn and gray with age. Dressmakers' dummies of various sizes take up much of the available space; bolts of cloth, mostly serviceable and drab, line the back wall, and a set of tall cabinets set with small drawers sits to the left, a rolling stepladder by their side, for Ethel to reach the topmost drawers, no doubt. Three mismatched mirrors are set in the far corner with a folding screen ready to provide privacy if needed; nearby is a small, shabby settee and a low table with a stack of teacups. A door practically hidden behind the rolls of cloth presumably leads to stairs to the second story. A tall, angular woman, with gray hair styled in a manner in fashion decades ago, is restraining a tiny white dog with black spots, large pointed ears, tiny sharp teeth, and a murderous look in its black eyes.

Snake motions for the others to follow as they make their way inside. Looking around, he eventually stops at the dog, wondering how far he could make it fly with a good powerful kick. Turning his attention to the proprietor, "What is it you sell here beside dresses? And would you mind if we take a look around?"


hp 36 / 38; AC 16; Init +2; 3 Str damage Male Half-elf Ranger 4

Braddon nods a head towards the arena.
"Looks like they may be serious this time. I suppose you need something decent to end with. The arena couldn't rig a fight to the death, could they? Or do they have healers down there or something?"


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Phillip shrugs slightly but keeps his eyes on Ranef "I do not know... but I would not think it in Ranef's nature to hold back. Orcs killed his kin and kept him as slave..." trailing off to allow the feelings evoked to be self-explanatory.


"Snake" wrote:
"What is it you sell here beside dresses? And would you mind if we take a look around?"

The woman purses her lips disapprovingly as she continues to hold the dog, who seems not at all cowed by Snake's size advantage. "We sell ladies' attire and necessities," she emphasizes.

"What would the gentleman like to see?" the halfling girl puts in politely. "A dress for madam?" She curtsies politely to Finnie just as if she weren't bedraggled and bruised and bloodstained. "Or for the child? We've a few ready-made working garments in the northeast corner."

What exactly are you looking for, Snake? When you left Rag's End, there was some men's clothing left behind in the rooms by Beltias and his men.

-----------------------------

Gristav enters the larder, looking for both telltale signs of gnawed foodstuffs and possible cracks or drains by which vermin might have entered, but the pantry doesn't look ransacked. Advancing toward the corner, he finds not a rat but a kitten, a mottled gray and brown tabby specimen curled up atop the half-empty sack of flour.


Male Human (Chelaxian) Wizard

"Now, really!" Gristav hears Tendal enter the kitchen behind him with an impatient step and irritated tone of voice. "What is all the shrieking about? Need I remind you that people are attempting to work in this building?"


Male Gnome
Piccolo Taphodarian wrote:
Piccolo carefully tucks them in the portfolio, "Will, you know your city better than I. I must thank you for a pleasant evening. No better view in the house than this one. I hope I can join you again sometime."

"Hey, hey?" Will asks a bit fiercely, focusing his eyes on Piccolo for the first time since they met, as if he's forgotten to whom he is speaking. "Aspiring artist yourself, are you? Looking for tips?"


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Tendal "Magnimar" Deverin wrote:
"Now, really!" Gristav hears Tendal enter the kitchen behind him with an impatient step and irritated tone of voice. "What is all the shrieking about? Need I remind you that people are attempting to work in this building?"

"Or attempting to sleep, on the flour sack?" Gristav mimics Tendal's tone, mostly, his speech a shade subdued, in deference to the diminutive despoiler of the peace of the pantry, now held heartclose, cupped, if not cuddled, against the liberated leather. "'Valia, this hero either was your rat, or he's chased him off." Gristav grinned, scrubbing softly at the animal's auricles. "You may choose which tale we tell." His eyes flicked playfully at her, but he turned to Tendal.

"Beat you too, has it?", Gristav guessed comradely. "Tough little bit of fluff.", he said, perhaps to the tabby. "Tendal, perhaps Sam's having a better day for magic than you or I. I don't believe we're in a rush. Though I still have a stew to fetch."

"What's to become of you?", Gris asks the cat. Crooking his staff in one elbow, the half-elf incanted briefly, then touched the kitten with an outstretched finger, sending a wave through the beast's fur, like a ripple over a pond. "Bath, for a start?", he offered rhetorically.

"Who left the bits for him, then?", Gristav asks the assembled, taking up his staff to point to the table.


Female Human (Varisian) Bard

Thuvalia is embarrassed and exhibits extra ill temper to cover it up. "Not I, I assure you," she sniffs. "I don't wish to attract vermin ... or vagrants." She fixes the kitten with a gimlet eye and stalks out of the room.


Male Dwarf

"Set a freeloader to catch a freeloader," Larur grumbles wryly as he watches her go before turning back to the cat in Gristav's hand with a frown. "Don't like it. This isn't a barnyard. Where'd it come from?"


Phillip Hargreaves wrote:
Taking his seat and leaning forward in anticipation Phillip sets one hand to smoothing out his mustache. At quiet tone to Braddon he adds "There might be more a little more feeling in this one Braddon..."

Indeed, this bout begins with an energy and abandon far removed from the tentativeness of Allardyce and Dogger. When the signal is given, Ranef sprints toward his opponent with a roar, bringing the blade of his axe over his head and driving it down at the half-orc in a slash calculated to split flesh and splinter bone ... if, as immediately becomes evident, the head of the axe hadn't been dulled for a less lethal fight. Even so, the edge of the blade comes down with enough power to tear open the greenish skin covering the half-orc's bicep and provide the first real spray of blood the crowd has seen all day, save bloody noses and split lips. The audience explodes in excited appreciation, calling encouragements to Ranef and imprecations on his opponent.


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Thuvalia Barabbio wrote:
Thuvalia is embarrassed and exhibits extra ill temper to cover it up. "Not I, I assure you," she sniffs. "I don't wish to attract vermin ... or vagrants." She fixes the kitten with a gimlet eye and stalks out of the room.

" 'Valia! 'Tis a babe in arms! Love and be loved in return!"

Larur Felden wrote:
"Set a freeloader to catch a freeloader," Larur grumbles wryly as he watches her go before turning back to the cat in Gristav's hand with a frown. "Don't like it. This isn't a barnyard. Where'd it come from?"

"As I understand the rule, from a queen.", Gris smirks. "But, as I understand the question... with whoever left the leavings on the table? Who's come and gone? Who's kind enough to bring the beast, thoughtful to feed it, thoughtless to leave no water, leave it alone, and no word to anyone?", Gristav tallied the truths to Larur. Then, turning to Tendal, he asked, "Mister Deverin, what guess would you make?"


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

The ferocity of Ranef's charge doesn't evoke elation in Phillip as it does the general crowd. Instead there is a slowly growing ball of anxiety in his gut.


Male Gnome Bard (Negotiator) 2

"I'm not much of a painter. I enjoy seeing a gnome artist of your skill work. It is a sight to behold. The amazing amount of detail creates an image that mirrors life as few others I have seen. I can see the sweat and blood dripping from the canvas."

Williplunnet Swevenforey wrote:
"Hey, hey?" Will asks a bit fiercely, focusing his eyes on Piccolo for the first time since they met, as if he's forgotten to whom he is speaking. "Aspiring artist yourself, are you? Looking for tips?"


hp 36 / 38; AC 16; Init +2; 3 Str damage Male Half-elf Ranger 4

Braddon glances to Phillip.
"The orc should have seen that charge coming a mile off. I think he's playing him. Which winner do you think would draw the most crowds tomorrow? 'Cause I think they're setting up for a grudge match."


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Shrugging Phil replies "Ranef shades him in the posted odds..." narrowing his eyes and trying to confirm if he's got the reckoning...
DM rolled Sense Motive at +8 to see if Ranef looks like he's going all out (Phil thinks he would be)


While Phillip is too high in the stands to read the gladiator's eyes, he sees nothing to contradict his impression that Ranef is fighting in dead earnest. There is certainly nothing of the encouraging playfulness the Kellid showed to the halfling when they shared the sand. Ranef looks to be set on ending the match quickly and violently.

The Notorious Punisher counters the Kellid's charge with a heavy flail. While he is certainly fighting not to lose, he doesn't seem to employ the same reckless abandon that Ranef is giving to the bout.


Male Gnome
Piccolo Taphodarian wrote:
"I'm not much of a painter. I enjoy seeing a gnome artist of your skill work. It is a sight to behold. The amazing amount of detail creates an image that mirrors life as few others I have seen. I can see the sweat and blood dripping from the canvas."

Will grunts, seemingly mollified by the praise. "Blood, aye," he agrees, nodding to Piccolo to bring the portfolio as he exits the box, heading back into the tunnels toward the stairs to street level. "Some folk think they can just splash red paint around, but to capture the true effect, it takes study."


Male Human (Chelaxian) Wizard
Gristav wrote:
"But, as I understand the question... with whoever left the leavings on the table? Who's come and gone? Who's kind enough to bring the beast, thoughtful to feed it, thoughtless to leave no water, leave it alone, and no word to anyone?", Gristav tallied the truths to Larur. Then, turning to Tendal, he asked, "Mister Deverin, what guess would you make?"

"I'll leave you to the mystery, if you don't mind," Tendal replies, heading back toward the residential wing. "I've more serious business to which to devote my mental energies."


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Tendal "Magnimar" Deverin wrote:
"I'll leave you to the mystery, if you don't mind," Tendal replies, heading back toward the residential wing. "I've more serious business to which to devote my mental energies."

"Good of you to come to the call!", Gristav calls after him.

Turning to Larur, even as he walked to find a saucer, Gris added softly, "I expect it beat him, and he'll be passing it to Sam. No shame in that; it beat me. Unless, one felt himself better than me." Gris shrugged the matter off, and away.

"Now, about our wee hero, witnessing the scraps, somebody intended he remain... she? remain? I confess I wouldn't know how to tell. But Hero was intended to remain. So, until a proper survey of the staff be taken, and perhaps an improper survey of Hero..." Gris ladles water into a saucer, and sets it beside the scraps of flesh, and the kitten beside the saucer. "...this ungendered Hero is our unscheduled guest. And I've a stew to fetch. You might leave her on the table, but he's been seen to wander... if she got to the spiders, that might answer or obviate all our questions."

Gristav slowly raises his gaze from the sipping kitten to Larur, and is happy to confirm on the dwarf's face the concern he'd predicted. "Or take him to your office? Where the dark is no hazard to a cat, I'm told. Or perhaps task Thuvalia with such attention?"

Gristav grinned, and added, "Mister Deverin, is busy."


Male Gnome Bard (Negotiator) 2

Piccolo will walk with Will to his destination making friendly small talk. Once Will is where he wishes to be, Piccolo will return to The Golden Goblin.

Williplunnet Swevenforey wrote:
Will grunts, seemingly mollified by the praise. "Blood, aye," he agrees, nodding to Piccolo to bring the portfolio as he exits the box, heading back into the tunnels toward the stairs to street level. "Some folk think they can just splash red paint around, but to capture the true effect, it takes study."


Gold Goblin wrote:
"Snake" wrote:
"What is it you sell here beside dresses? And would you mind if we take a look around?"

The woman purses her lips disapprovingly as she continues to hold the dog, who seems not at all cowed by Snake's size advantage. "We sell ladies' attire and necessities," she emphasizes.

"What would the gentleman like to see?" the halfling girl puts in politely. "A dress for madam?" She curtsies politely to Finnie just as if she weren't bedraggled and bruised and bloodstained. "Or for the child? We've a few ready-made working garments in the northeast corner."

What exactly are you looking for, Snake? When you left Rag's End, there was some men's clothing left behind in the rooms by Beltias and his men.

Yeah, I was thinking he could use whatever was left behind from those guys. Just the girl and woman.

"Yes to both. A dress for the madam and something for the girl also. But you can ask them what they might like."


Male Dwarf
Gristav wrote:
"Now, about our wee hero, witnessing the scraps, somebody intended he remain... she? remain? I confess I wouldn't know how to tell."

Larur unceremoniously scoops up the kitten in his broad hand and upends it. "How you haven't come to grief in a dimly-lit tavern somewhere I don't know," he grumbles. "It's a tom. Which at least means it won't be drowning us in unwanted cats in the future. If you won't put it out in the alley, then shut it in your room until you find out how it got in. We don't want an animal loose in the same room with food we intend to eat and serve."


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Larur Felden wrote:
Larur unceremoniously scoops up the kitten in his broad hand and upends it. "How you haven't come to grief in a dimly-lit tavern somewhere I don't know," he grumbles. "It's a tom. Which at least means it won't be drowning us in unwanted cats in the future. If you won't put it out in the alley, then shut it in your room until you find out how it got in. We don't want an animal loose in the same room with food we intend to eat and serve."

Stepping away for another saucer, Gristav gathered the bits that had been left for the cat, choosing his path to be beyond Larur's reach, and the kitten's return. "Nor a room with uncatalogued poisons. Mine won't serve, with the morning's plunder still within it. Tendal's busy, you're... curmudgeonly. Though he seems happy with your half-yard of beard."

Stopping across the table, Gristav mused, "He might do you good. Or Thuvalia. Or if you both refuse... Samaritha, at least, would treat him kindly when she found him in her room. You carry the kit, me the saucers, lead where you think best. If we go to Sam's room, I've still that key. To Thuvalia's, first? Or just your office?"


Male Dwarf

"Bah," the dwarf responds as he heads toward the guest rooms. "Entrust it to the Sczarni moll, and she'll have a new fur tippet before the morning; see if she doesn't. You don't suppose it's that new man you found on the road? He had a weasel of some sort already." He waits for Gristav to unlock Samaritha's door and shoves the kitten in quickly. "You'd better give me back that key once you've locked it up," he advises. "Women don't usually like to find men with keys to their doors, unless it was their idea to give it."


The match between Ranef and his opponent plays out with an intensity missing from most of the previous bouts of the afternoon. Ranef attacks viciously and relentlessly, while the half-orc largely focuses on deflecting the blows. There can be little doubt that, had the Kellid's blade not been blunted, the fight would have been both quick and deadly, but the axe's reduced lethality gives the Punisher the latitude to ride out Ranef's barrage and wait for him to tire. When the greataxe's swings begin to slow, the half-orc marshals his reserved strength to turn the tables and go on the attack. Despite his numerous scrapes and bruises, the Notorious Punisher forces the Kellid back one hard-fought step at a time. Finally, the head of the flail catches Ranef's shoulder and upper arm, and he staggers forward as the momentum of the heavy ball and chain pulls him off-balance. The half-orc seizes the opportunity to strike him behind the ear with the wooden handle, and the Kellid falls to his hands and knees before collapsing. Runners sprint from Zincher's stable's portal almost before he is down, to roll his face out of the sand and check his condition while the Notorious Punisher raises a tired fist to acknowledge the cheers from the half-orcs for his victory.

-----------------------------

By the time the match is over, Will and Piccolo are already on the cobblestoned streets outside the arena, heading northeast into Leeward District. Williplunnet marches a half-step ahead, leading the way, while Piccolo carries the artist's kit and portfolio. They pass through Leeward Common, where both farmers from outside of town and local artisans sell their wares from booths and wagons. The business day being almost over, many people are beginning to pack up what will sell at a later date while offering steep discounts on perishable items.

Of the roads leading out of the marketplace, Will takes the main road which leads eventually through a pass in the ridge east of town known as the Boneyard Cut to the garbage dump and thence out into the countryside. The pair of gnomes don't follow it that far, however, as Will takes a quick left turn. They pass a long and rather forbidding-looking tenement on the right. Its small windows are barred, and a group of tough-looking and well-armed men are shooting dice atop a barrel by the front stoop; they stop what they're doing and give the gnomes a hard look as they pass, though Will pays them no notice.

He continues on to a boarding house all but nestled against the gnarled wall of the rocky ridge which is Riddleport's eastern border and takes the stairs all the way to the top. Most of the tenements in Riddleport have a low-ceilinged attic beneath their eaves, and many rent out space there to boarders of the Small races, Piccolo knows; Ambrosia has an attic room herself. Will lets himself in with a key on a cord he fishes from beneath his shirt and waits for Piccolo to follow with his property.

-----------------------------

"Snake" wrote:
"Yes to both. A dress for the madam and something for the girl also. But you can ask them what they might like."

Cassey follows the Small woman to the rack of clothing in the shop's corner eagerly, while Finnie requires some convincing and even then barely raises her eyes from the floor or her voice above a whisper. The old woman places herself where she and her dog can watch all four visitors with disapproval. "Your ... that woman looks to be in need of medical attention," she tells Snake firmly. "Surely she could come shopping when she is in a more presentable state."

"Her throat was cut," Micah speaks up with a sudden clarity. "So much blood. So much blood. I saw it. The wrath of Sarenrae. She wouldn't drink it, so she had to suffer vengeance."


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Sighing as he finds his feet again, Phillip can't help but feel some sense of emptiness after the display. The pieces on the board seemed earnest enough, but when the sharpness of ability is blunted to the point of uselessness... the pantomine loses some of it's meaning.

Turning to Braddon he shrugs "Unfortunate for Ranef... though perhaps the headache will make the match on the morrow more enticing. Thus I needs take my leave..." tipping an imaginary hat before pausing a moment for any reply prior to moving away.


hp 36 / 38; AC 16; Init +2; 3 Str damage Male Half-elf Ranger 4

"Ranef would have won with a decent weapon. Or maybe the orc would have dodged better."
Braddon returns Phillip's shrug.
"You coming to this prisoner handover tonight? If not then I'll see you... breakfast tomorrow I guess for our next list of work to do."
Braddon waves and heads off towards a flat in Leeward.


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Phillip gives Braddon a facial expression that suggests he'd rather drive a roofing nail through his eyeball than attend anything to do with the gendarme before separating from his company amicably... and making for the betting window, as at least one of his flutters had proven worthy.


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Larur Felden wrote:
"Bah," the dwarf responds as he heads toward the guest rooms. "Entrust it to the Sczarni moll, and she'll have a new fur tippet before the morning; see if she doesn't. You don't suppose it's that new man you found on the road? He had a weasel of some sort already."

"A familiar I believe, not merely a ferret. I've seen the like before. Though it's not the ferret, I have in mind, but the mind in the ferret. We suspect Lil's thrush, is a similar creature."

Quote:
Larur waits for Gristav to unlock Samaritha's door and shoves the kitten in quickly. "You'd better give me back that key once you've locked it up," he advises. "Women don't usually like to find men with keys to their doors, unless it was their idea to give it."

" 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.", Gristav muses, mangling the meaning of the quoted guip. "I've just got to find a place to put the water and food.", he says, giving a sort of salute with the stacked saucers, "And you can lock it yourself, and keep the key. I never meant mischief, only forgot I had the key..."

Gristav looks for a place where the saucers might be put, where a human won't step, where a kitten might get at them. Under a side table perhaps?


Male Gnome Bard (Negotiator) 2

Piccolo enters Will's abode. He looks about the place, waiting for Will to instruct him where to place his property. Not what I was expecting. A humble residence. It does not appear Cleg pays much for art.

Perception1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Does he feel any ill intent? Sense Motive1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

Gold Goblin wrote:

By the time the match is over, Will and Piccolo are already on the cobblestoned streets outside the arena, heading northeast into Leeward District. Williplunnet marches a half-step ahead, leading the way, while Piccolo carries the artist's kit and portfolio. They pass through Leeward Common, where both farmers from outside of town and local artisans sell their wares from booths and wagons. The business day being almost over, many people are beginning to pack up what will sell at a later date while offering steep discounts on perishable items.

Of the roads leading out of the marketplace, Will takes the main road which leads eventually through a pass in the ridge east of town known as the Boneyard Cut to the garbage...


Male Dwarf
Gristav wrote:
"A familiar I believe, not merely a ferret. I've seen the like before. Though it's not the ferret, I have in mind, but the mind in the ferret. We suspect Lil's thrush, is a similar creature."

Gristav sets the saucers beneath the chair at the foot of Samaritha's bed, while Larur frowns. "How do we know this cat's not a familiar then? It could be spying on us ... or be some sort of inside man like the damned Sczarni Saul hired."


Snake looks to Micah wide-eyed. Sighing and shaking his head, he turns back to evil dog lady. "Don't listen to him. Look, we don't have time to just 'go shopping'; and what better way to look 'presentable' - as you call it - than to buy some new clothes? Besides, I've got a bit of coin so what do you care? So the way I'm seeing it is: the quicker you sell us something, the quicker we are to leave and not bother you again," he says as a matter of fact.


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Larur Felden wrote:
Gristav wrote:
"A familiar I believe, not merely a ferret. I've seen the like before. Though it's not the ferret, I have in mind, but the mind in the ferret. We suspect Lil's thrush, is a similar creature."
Gristav sets the saucers beneath the chair at the foot of Samaritha's bed, while Larur frowns. "How do we know this cat's not a familiar then? It could be spying on us ... or be some sort of inside man like the damned Sczarni Saul hired."

"Well, I'll compare it to the ferret later. But one would not usually risk a familiar as a spy, they're too precious. Their loss is crippling, their replacement time-consuming and expensive. Oh..."

Smiling, Gristav magics a mote of light into being, and lets the kitten see it. As 'Hero' gives chase, Gris says, "A familiar wouldn't fall for that."

Guiding the mote, and thus the kitten, safely away from the door, Gristav shuts the kitten in, gesturing indicatively, for Larur, at the key, still in the lock.

"And I'm best off for stew, now."

Any sign of palm fronds?


Gold Goblin wrote:
"Her throat was cut," Micah speaks up with a sudden clarity. "So much blood. So much blood. I saw it. The wrath of Sarenrae. She wouldn't drink it, so she had to suffer vengeance."

Even the halfling girl on the other side of the small shop looks up at Micah with wide-eyed misgiving at his pronouncement, although Finnie and Cassey don't blink an eye, and the woman tightens her grip on the growling terrier as she glares at Snake.

The selection of ready-made clothing is not extensive; it's largely a simple matter of determining which drab and practical dress is nearest in size to the customers perusing them. The halfling, seeming rather eager to get the barefoot man in sailcloth discussing bloody vengeance out of the shop, doesn't drag out the process, and both Finnie and Cassey are soon supplied with a new garment.

"Four silver coins each," the woman snaps. "You can leave them by the door there." She clearly has no desire to approach Micah more closely.


Male Dwarf
Gristav wrote:
Smiling, Gristav magics a mote of light into being, and lets the kitten see it. As 'Hero' gives chase, Gris says, "A familiar wouldn't fall for that."

"Oes, oni bai ei fod yn gwybod ein bod yn sôn am y peth ac yn ceisio taflu ni i ffwrdd," Larur grumbles as he locks the cat in. "Oh, aye," he elaborates, meeting Gristav's questioning eye, "you'll learn the language of folk on the other side of the world who walk around upside down but not the good, solid Dwarven tongue." He gives a nod and heads back to his office to put away the extra key.

The palm frond was leaning in the corner behind the chair.


Rolling his eyes, he pulls out a gold coin and flips it over to her and her evil dog. "Keep the change." He turns to the others, "Alright, let's get out of here and get you all back; it's gettin' late." He opens the door and holds it open for the others as they make their way out before shutting it again. There's gotta be a better place to buy clothes than that dump. But then again, this whole town stinks so maybe not. Shaking his head at it all, he leads the way back to Rag's End.


Will's flat would definitely be deemed a humble one by the taller races for its lack of headroom, but considered from the perspective of a Small person, it's quite spacious, stretching the length of two or three of the rooms leased out on lower floors; it's difficult to tell exactly how far Will's flat extends, as a partition divides it into at least one other room opposite the front door. The luxury of space is partly countered by the room's extreme untidiness: books, papers, and articles of clothing are scattered everywhere except for a drafting table, placed in the light from one of the dormer windows, with a sawed-off stool placed before it. Williplunnet nods Piccolo and his portfolio over to it.

Piccolo:
You don't feel that you are in any danger in this place or from its inhabitants.

-----------------------------

Phillip makes his way back to the open lobby beneath the tiers of the arena, doing his best to avoid being stepped on by the taller members of the crowd. All the betting windows are open to expedite paying out winnings, but the queues are still shorter than those at the concession area on the other side of the open space, where fightgoers are buying bites to strengthen them for the walk across town before the sun goes down. Phil takes a place in line and waits for his turn to show his ticket at the window. He won't see the gold coin he bet on Ranef's bout again, but his gamble on Allardyce more than makes up for it, putting him 6 silver coins ahead for the afternoon.

Having collected your winnings, where to next, Phil?

-----------------------------

Braddon allows himself to be swept out of the arena with the dispersing crowd. He passes through Leeward Common, where the farmers and other small-time merchants are packing their goods away to shut down by sundown. Street vendors are hawking sandwiches and meat pies at a discount to be rid of their wares. From the Common, it's a short walk back to the boarding house where Anya and Lexy reside. As he is approaching the door, Anya walks out into the street, does a double-take as she sees him, and demands, "You haven't been just waiting out here the whole time I was sleeping, have you?"


Male Halfling Inquisitor of Calistria (Heretic archetype)

Having collected his winnings and keeping hold of the chit denoting his bet on Ranef for another purpose, Phil looks to the sky. Seeing the dark descending he realizes that he needs to hustle and makes for the house of the tall, short and mangy.

Off to Betta's


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Larur Felden wrote:
Gristav wrote:
Smiling, Gristav magics a mote of light into being, and lets the kitten see it. As 'Hero' gives chase, Gris says, "A familiar wouldn't fall for that."
"Oes, oni bai ei fod yn gwybod ein bod yn sôn am y peth ac yn ceisio taflu ni i ffwrdd," Larur grumbles as he locks the cat in. "Oh, aye," he elaborates, meeting Gristav's questioning eye, "you'll learn the language of folk on the other side of the world who walk around upside down but not the good, solid Dwarven tongue." He gives a nod and heads back to his office to put away the extra key.

"Those tutors were comelier.", Gris quips. "And I was among them. It's not that I chose not to learn Dwarven, I just haven't, yet. Here, what's dwarrow for, 'Sam might be better for the kitten, but the kitten would be better for Thuvalia'?" Gristav smiled, half expecting to be ignored.

Quote:
The palm frond was leaning in the corner behind the chair.

Gristav wears a curious faint smile as he heads for the Three-Billed Duck.


Male Gnome Bard (Negotiator) 2

Piccolo sets Will's items where he pointed. He will engage in polite small talk for a sufficiently long period of time, then return to The Gold Goblin.

If there is no substantial interaction with Will that will forward the story, I plan to return to The Gold Goblin to reunite with the group.

Gold Goblin wrote:
Will's flat would definitely be deemed a humble one by the taller races for its lack of headroom, but considered from the perspective of a Small person, it's quite spacious, stretching the length of two or three of the rooms leased out on lower floors; it's difficult to tell exactly how far Will's flat extends, as a partition divides it into at least one other room opposite the front door. The luxury of space is partly countered by the room's extreme untidiness: books, papers, and articles of clothing are scattered everywhere except for a drafting table, placed in the light from one of the dormer windows, with a sawed-off stool placed before it. Williplunnet nods Piccolo and his portfolio over to it.


Snake leads his charges out of the shop and southward into Rotgut. A few straggling pedestrians give the foursome unfriendly glares as they pass, but no one gets in their way. They soon arrive back at Rag's End. The broken glass has been swept off the front stoop. Micah whimpers and cringes as they enter the building and the mosaic of Sarenrae's holy symbol high on the far wall of the chapel comes in sight. Cassey immediately dashes up the stairs, calling "Neenah!"

-----------------------------

Gristav follows the now-familiar route to the Three-Billed Duck. The traffic on the streets is picking up again, as the end of the business day approaches. As he enters the tavern, the door to the kitchen is pushed open to check on the new arrival. "Ah!" Mistress Crispin cries cheerfully at the sight of him. "You've come for the stew. Were you able to find Alex at the lobsterman's? I told the girl she should have fetched me; if it's business you had to discuss, I can do as well as Alex, and a deal better, if you ask me, although I know the gentlemen like to believe that women haven't a head for numbers."

-----------------------------

Phillip crosses Riddleport on a path roughly parallel to but to the south of Gristav's, cutting north of the gladiators' dormitory east of Zincher's Arena and directly into the neighborhood -- somewhat shabby but still clinging to respectability -- of Betta's shop. As he approaches the door, the rat terrier Malthus is already yapping aggressively.


M 1/2E Magus 4 :2223a1: BAB3 CMB/D:5/17 AC/T/Ff:16/12/14 Init2 Perc1?3(F:9) HP36/36 FRW6,5,3(F:6) UMD11 Scft10 Alch/K:Arc/K:Lcl/Appr7 Ride/Climb/Swim/Dance:6 Dipl/Intim/Acrobatics5 Sense Motive3(F:6)
Gold Goblin wrote:
Gristav follows the now-familiar route to the Three-Billed Duck. The traffic on the streets is picking up again, as the end of the business day approaches. As he enters the tavern, the door to the kitchen is pushed open to check on the new arrival. "Ah!" Mistress Crispin cries cheerfully at the sight of him. "You've come for the stew. Were you able to find Alex at the lobsterman's? I told the girl she should have fetched me; if it's business you had to discuss, I can do as well as Alex, and a deal better, if you ask me, although I know the gentlemen like to believe that women haven't a head for numbers."

"It was a woman, taught me numbers", Gristav offers, agreeing to her point. "And then, another... and a third.", he remembers aloud. "Most of my mentors, and much of my arts, are from women; you'll not ever hear me, doubt your gender, Mrs Crispin."

"I didn't go to the lobsterman's, I went straight to the arena, sans notes. Won as much as I lost, though I didn't stay long. Did some studying, a small mission of mercy, and fretted throughout that something would arise, to keep me from my duty here. I'd complain about the sunset rule, but I expect it allows you home with family, and that, would be a good thing. If a bachelor may judge."

"Was there, anything of blueberry, that I might take, as well? It's the favorite flavor of a favored friend, and I'd fain fetch, if fortune favors?"

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