As Gristav the gnome and the dog go back downstairs, and Braddon follows after, Tendal idles after for a moment.
Well, it can't hurt. he thinks, before casting detect magic and working his way down the stairs and following the group to the bedroom, where he casts his gaze around the room from the doorway.
I will just look around for a few moments after they complete their sniffing.
Natinilinus directs Sludge to the bed and, afterward, to the rug. The dog sniffs half-heartedly at the bedding and fur.
"What about the drawers? Any clothing left behind?" the gnome inquires. "Better if it hasn't been laundered."
With the half-elf's permission, Natinilinus searches the chest, ruffling through the few extra articles of clothing Larur owned and offering them to the dog to sniff. "Best we can do, I suppose," he concludes finally. "If there's a scent to be had, Sludge has it now. Any idea where we might begin our search? Where might your dwarf friend have gone when he left here?"
Returning from the closed-in room on the main floor, Phillip and Snake redescend to the basement and go back out the secret door to the main corridor. Ahead of them, they see Braddon and Tendal standing in the doorway to the dwarf's room, and light and shadows spilling out which testify to the presence of others within.
Braddon waves to the others.
"We found pancakes."
His face saddens.
"But not here."
"What have you found in here?" he asks, looking within the room.
"Delay, surely. Distraction, perhaps. Deliverance, yet unproved. The animal might have gained something, but not if we confuse him. Greatreave, we've a note guiding us south out of the city to a specific location. Will Sludge remember a scent, if he's hours from last having it? If there's a cue you might give him for that? To remember well? I apologize, I am ignorant of your art.", Gristav says humbly.
"Are we otherwise prepared to be away?"
"Well pancakes beats our discoveries thus far... though I'm not sure if I'm gladdened or perturbed that there are no signs of scumbuggery at play. At the least it was a delve worth doing... and we've still above to finish."
Together the group searches the upper story, from Saul's suite to the costume closet to the hidden catwalk above the casino floor. They find nothing unexpected or revelatory.
As they reconvene on the main floor, Ethel returns with a locksmith in tow.
Phillip offers Ethel a wink and smile, before addressing the locksmith. A hand is held out for shaking before he queries "We've a need for a changing of steels... are you able to take a reckoning of the locks external?"
"We need the outside ones done too," Braddon adds helpfully.
Laying a warm hand on Braddon's shoulder, Gristav offers the half-elf a gentle smile. "Just so. Egresses and sallies; entreum and foram; new keys, clefs, and cla-vays, for lock-um dem door-um."
Despite being addressed by Phillip, Braddon, and Gristav, the locksmith's eyes keep darting toward the silent Tendal. "Erm, yes ... that is to say ... I presume that I will be paid up front?" he asks expectantly.
Phil gives a short nod and attracts attention with a smile "Aye, in part. Half on commencement and half at completion. Let's walk and see what fee might be"
The locksmith makes a moue of acquiescence and submits to follow Phillip to see the extent of the job.
The locksmith examines the outer doors. "No lock on these," he points out of the front doors from the verandah. "Just the bar to be dropped from the inside. Retrofitting these for a key and lock would take some time."
At the back door, he asks, "You wanting a lock of the same quality? Or something a little more difficult to bypass?"
"The same quality should be adequate for our purposes." Tendal pronounces, following Philip and the locksmith to the back door. "The external doors are simply to remove the threat of those who take opportunities that arise, not professional thieves."
"Hm," the man replied, clearly disappointed at his failure to upsell the group. "I can replace the lock for forty gold. That's with one key. Each additional copy is five silver." He runs his eyes over the men, doing the hopeful math in his head.
Braddon chokes on something, but is otherwise quiet.
"How about re-keying it rather than replacing it? The whole mechanism doesn't need to be replaced, we simply need to ensure that no additional keys are wandering around to get inside." Tendal asks, thinking through the internal workings of the key, but not knowing the specifics that the locksmith would have to perform.
The locksmith turns a reproachful gaze on Tendal. "Re-keying would be faster," he admits. "Twenty-five gold. The cost per key remains the same."
"That also spares the conversation on the fate of the old lock. Surely we can trust a professional's instincts for the remaining details? And of course, discretion. I expect in Riddleport, a locksmith's discretion might be life or death. Such a dark town. It might be complex enough you could not provide a key without a sample. That might be safer for the maker, overall. No potential pressure to replicate ex nihilo... from nothing."
Looking up at the assembled as if rousing from a muse, Gristav asks, "So... can we move on?"
Tendal pays the locksmith for rekeying the lock and 4 keys.
"I would hope so. I believe that there is little remaining that we must attend to at this moment. I am beginning to feel the press of time upon my thoughts. We should complete our affairs and see if Greatreave is ready to proceed."
The locksmith accepts the bundle of coins with a grunt. The presence of his clients doesn't prevent him from openly counting them. Ethel is left to supervise and collect the keys when he is done.
Braddon looks to Tendal and Phillip.
"Do you still want me to fight the ghost?"
Gristav sighs tiredly. "No. It's a man. I want you to fight the man. Do you still want daylight to do it? Is there anything else, short of moving furniture, we need to do beforehand? For all we know, people are sailing or drowning with the turn of the tide."
"I have need of equipment to pen scrolls once more as my supply is much reduced. I further would like to see if there is a wand with some offensive abilities, available for purchase. Additionally, I need to see about purchasing spells, as my usefulness in desperate circumstances is apportioned by my prior knowledge." Tendal says.
"However I feel that we do not have infinite time at our disposal before we must press forward to our goals, ghost eradication and investigations. I would simply look to purchase a wand." Tendal suggests in a tone of proclamation.
"Good," Braddon mutters. "I don't wanna fight this ghost in the dark."
Gristav grumphs and glowers. The wrum and wear of mental machineries might almost be heard in the room, or seen on his brow, until the butterfly alights there, and Gristav has to glare through the one fluttering eye, until he gives it all up.
"Oh, very well", he assents, though whether to the insect or the wizard is unclear, at first, perhaps made clearer as he continues, "We've a contact may be of use, and surely a boon to the spirit in that testing. I could use such."
"So Tendal and I for that, though quickly, and then returning here, where your questions might have been resolved by then? And enough daylight to gain our destination? Or will that needs be into the morrow?"
"Well, Tendal, let us go, and find out."
Knowing that the most reliable place in Riddleport to purchase arcane equipment is the Cypherlodge, Tendal and Gristav head for the ferry across the Velashu.
Braddon stays behind and practices some swordplay, hacking apart imaginary ghosts with his blades.
Having taken the ferry across the Velashu, Tendal and Gristav take the road that climbs steeply up to the top of the ridge. The higher they get, the less pervasive are the heat and stench of the river valley and the larger and more well-maintained the buildings become as they enter the most desirable real estate of Riddleport: Windward District.
The sprawling building of the Cypherlodge sits at the pinnacle of the cliff, the ground dropping off steeply on either side and even more abruptly behind it to the sea. It's an ungainly structure, composed of several wings clearly added at different times as the membership and prestige of the society grew. A tasteful and unobtrusive placard at the corner of the building neatly lettered "Sales and Services" directs the pair to a side entrance. As they enter, a bell sounds a clear peal; a glance up, however, reveals no physical chime on the door.
Inside is a small, square room furnished only with a long, bare counter blocking further access about two-thirds of the way in; plain, wooden chairs are arranged neatly against the walls on this side of the counter. On the far wall, behind the counter, are two other doors; as the clangor of the conjured bell dies away, a youngish man in the buff-colored robes that identify him as a Cypherlodge apprentice comes through one of them. "Yes?" he asks expectantly. "What magical aids or items of power are you desiring to purchase?"
Tendal, knowing that time is short, gets to the point. "We are interested in what lower level magics you have available. Specifically, and in this order, wands, inscribable new spells for my own and my companion's personal spellbooks and reagents for the making of inks specific to scrollmaking." he pronounces, lightly tapping his cane on the floor. Then turning to Gristav "Were there any other inquiries that you wished to make?"
"You've done a grand summary.", Gristav answers Tendal. "But on that other matter? It wouldn't do to distract the mistress, what with the wave and blot... But we could speak with that new apprentice, what was it? Samra? Red hair...?"
Phil ponders for a long span before making an internal decision. Turning to Braddon he suggests "We'll worry about the other staff tomorrow."
Tendal, knowing that time is short, gets to the point. "We are interested in what lower level magics you have available. Specifically, and in this order, wands, inscribable new spells for my own and my companion's personal spellbooks and reagents for the making of inks specific to scrollmaking." he pronounces, lightly tapping his cane on the floor.
"How many spells were you planning on inscribing, sir?" the acolyte asks. "I can show you a list of the wands and scrolls currently in stock. It goes without saying that a member of the Cypherlodge can create anything you want; but you would have to wait for a custom crafting, and there is a sixty-percent deposit." He slides a pair of parchments across the counter, one listing available wands and the other available scrolls. "There is a volume discount on anything in stock if you purchase more than three items ... not including the writing supplies, of course."
Turning to Braddon he suggests "We'll worry about the other staff tomorrow."
"Finders keepers."
Braddon sheathes both blades, jumps forwards and draws them both smoothly, a beat apart, slicing through the air in front of him."Nice. When I do it like that, I don't even come close to losing my hand."
"Samaritha. That's the name. If she's about, she has specific information I'd like to add to. If not, later channels will do. Meantime, Inks, of Third, and Second, and First orders, the numbers flipped for quantities. A round two hundreds of gold coins, counted.", Gristav says genially to the counterman.
"And another hundredweight", Gris asides to Tendal, "If it serves any purpose or need of yours."
"It would, and I thank you Gristav." Tendal begins, "But I will be able to make my purchases with only half your offer, saving you something for ale and flapjacks." he finishes, a quick smile playing across his lips.
Turning back to the acolyte/clerk he begins succinctly, "
Ink for 2 spells of 2nd order - 2
The wand of charm person
a scroll of web (2nd)
a scroll of ray of enfeeblement (1st)
material for 1 2nd order and 2 1st order scrolls
ink for 1 first order spell" he rattles off.
"That comes to 1265 gold, I believe."
"I, uh...." The apprentice scribbles numbers in columns rapidly with a quill on a scrap of parchment and, with visible effort, carries the appropriate digits. "Erm, yes; yes, that's correct." He evinces neither recognition nor interest at Gristav's mention of Samaritha. "If you'll place your coin on the counter, I'll fetch you gentlemen's goods."
When the gold has been proven to be present, the exchange of coin for product is made. "All wands carry a seven-day warranty against insufficient workmanship," he advises Tendal. "Keep your receipt."
"Is that an actual concern? Should I be wary of shoddy products that you are distributing?" Tendal asks warily as he starts to place the money on the countertop.
"Also, if you are not able to complete simple summation in your head, I recommend not attempting any spells of summoning. Precise placement and completion of the mental summoning circle requires calculation based on time of day, distance from the solstice and moral alignment of the summoned being." he advises as he completes the shining stacks on the table.
Finishing, Tendal places the items carefully on his pouch and person, before turing to Gristav. "Ready to proceed?"
"Is that an actual concern? Should I be wary of shoddy products that you are distributing?" Tendal asks warily as he starts to place the money on the countertop.
"Jigsaw Puzzle of Feather's Fall - Lifetime Guarantee!", Gristav quips. "And it's no matter, our coins in turn carry a two-hour guarantee against being illusory. We're all magi here, the strongest guarantee is the potential of our wroth."
"Also, if you are not able to complete simple summation in your head, I recommend not attempting any spells of summoning. Precise placement and completion of the mental summoning circle requires calculation based on time of day, distance from the solstice and moral alignment of the summoned being." he advises as he completes the shining stacks on the table.
"Or just, you know, wing it, and hope for the best. What with arrows and such flying about the battlefield, scimitared thugee lurking or charging, when's there time for casting out nines? But no, do trust Tendal, he's the head for numbers. Mine's more for figures."
Finishing, Tendal places the items carefully on his pouch and person, before turing to Gristav. "Ready to proceed?"
"And glad of it.", the half-elf agrees.
"And it's no matter, our coins in turn carry a two-hour guarantee against being illusory."
The overmatched young apprentice's eyes widen in horror, and he quickly begins intoning a cantrip of detect magic to examine the coins the two men left behind as they exit the shop.
Their purchases complete, it is a matter only of tedium, time, and shoe leather to rejoin their companions at the Gold Goblin. The sun is high in the sky, and it would appear that Braddon has plenty of time to visit the Boneyard before nightfall.
Braddon sheathes his weapons and makes for a bucket of water. He takes a dozen large gulps before pouring the rest of it over his head, his muscles rippling in the sunlight, droplets of water glittering like a halo in his wild hair.
He sighs and tosses the bucket aside, almost hitting Tendal.
"Ah, sorry. You're back. Fine, lets go kill this ghost. I'll make it wish it were dead... Again."
"Have Greatreave and Sludge sniffed about in our absence? Let us be off, and hope we're not too late."
Gristav goes into the Goblin to call aloud for those present. " 'oy! We're back. let's be off! To be off! To be back, and back at it!"
Phil sighs and moves to give Ethel a peck upon the cheek "Till I return mi'lady... this time to find you here once more" winking as he steps back to deliver a faux bow. Twisting on the spot he runs both hands sequentially through his hair and fishes out a copper from his pocket, setting it to slow rotations around his fingers.
Arriving to where the taller among them wait Phillip nods "So... to whence and how will we go bolboreta? I assume you've put some thought to the whence and wherefore?"
Tendal quickly deposits scrollworking materials in his room, locks the door and returns to join the group.
"As Gristav has said, let us be about our business." Tendal pronounces. Then an odd look crosses Tendal's face and he quickly removes his newly purchased wand from his belt, looks at it crossly for a moment, and then tucks it into the sleeve of his left arm, flicking the lace back into position as he does.
"Delay, surely. Distraction, perhaps. Deliverance, yet unproved. The animal might have gained something, but not if we confuse him. Greatreave, we've a note guiding us south out of the city to a specific location. Will Sludge remember a scent, if he's hours from last having it? If there's a cue you might give him for that? To remember well? I apologize, I am ignorant of your art.", Gristav says humbly.
"I'll have you know, sir," Greatreave replies grandly, "that Sludge never forgets a scent. Of course, he admittedly fails to distinguish between them. But if he strikes on something, it is sure to lead you to one or another of the quarries you seek. There is something to be said for the element of surprise, after all."
The party sets off across town, past the Mystery of the Gate, Zincher's Arena, and the Gas Forges to the Boneyard Cut, the pass through the eastern ridge which leads to the ill-reputed town dump and ship's graveyard.
As they make their way to the destination, "Alright, let's put an end to this 'ghost' guy and move on. At least that'll be one less problem to deal with," he says as he scans the area. Lucky follows right behind, mimicking his tall friend.