"Chatham's house is the westernmost one in Windward District," Saul informs them, still looking worried. "You take the road toward the Cypherlodge, but the house itself is set just over the top of the ridge; gives it a bit of privacy. There's a walled garden, as well. You can't mistake it; he had the house built himself with a huge bay window facing southwest so he could be the first to see his ships approaching the harbor before they reached the Cyphergate."
Braddon pokes a thumb at Saul.
"See. Privacy. We'll just look around, jump the back wall, break in and kill Lil. Then toss her over the cliffs like she did to Gramma."
Braddon checks his swords, potions and daggers, including those in his boots.
"And don't worry about the ferrymen. They'll only be able to say we went from one side of town to the other. Even if they remember that for everyone in Riddleport, there's worse than us about, so we'll be fine. And if we're not..."
Braddon points his thumb at his chest.
He grins.
"Let's go."
The plan firmly cemented in at least one of their minds, the party exits the Gold Goblin to head back toward Windward and locate Lynley Chatham's house.
Before departing, Phil takes a few moments to scribble a note for Ethel in the halfling tongue... just in case she finds her way to the Goblin before they return.
On the walk the halfling is pensive and thought-drowned, setting a copper to dance across his fingers by way of passing the time between steps.
The raftsmen remember Braddon and vie for the group's custom, presuming a similar toll is offered as last time. On the far side of the Velashu, the road leads downstream past the destruction of the Publican House and the riverside buildings, then up to the heights of Windward.
Braddon strides on to the first raft to reach them, ushers the others on, then hands over a few coppers.
On the other side he leaves a few more coppers before heading up the hill, quiet and determined.
Producing by a flourished figure of his freemost of hands the savaged scrap of an oft-divided handkerchief, Gristav held it forth for Bolbo to alight on, to taste by his feet and scent, if the word was enough for how powerfully the butterfly's folk sensed such, by his antennae, what remained of the scent their quarry habituated. "If you find that, worry. Because I'll need to.", Gristav said as if he thought to be understood. The tiny creature fluttered ahead, as if it had. And the scrap fell through another flourish, to else-where*, as if it had never been.
* elsewhere upon the magus' person, of course, safely stowed, though all thoughts were toward needing it no more in future, the nonce would hoard it held.
The group passes by the makeshift infirmary in the disused carriage house and the Harbor View, arriving at the fork where the road veers up to the highest part of the ridge and the cliffside Cypherlodge. According to Saul, Lynley Chatham's house should be along that path.
"What say you, any or all? We walk past, to the Cypherlodge, in dribs and drabs, make a point of _not_ being one mass of men, as we might be observed going _up_. Conversely, with the lodge dismissing batches of viewers all at once, a group _leaving_ the lodge is not suspect at all, unless some of you are known by face, as worrying?"
"That lets us all have a look and then a talk, perhaps a sniff, before any assault. If we can wait that long."
"Might be worth myself and Braddon taking a first squint from afar before we move entire... we're a mite less distinguished than all of you other gentlefolk."
Braddon shrugs and makes his way along the path towards the Chatham house.
"I'm just going to head up and... knock. Politely. Anyone have a crowbar?"
"Might be worth myself and Braddon taking a first squint from afar before we move entire... we're a mite less distinguished than all of you other gentlefolk."
"Sounds good."
Braddon shrugs and makes his way along the path towards the Chatham house.
"I'm just going to head up and... knock. Politely. Anyone have a crowbar?"
Shaking his head, "I don't. But I do question your definition of 'politely' all of the sudden. And having said that... I don't want to know."
With Saul's description in mind, the party easily locates the footpath leading to Lynley Chatham's house. A footpath wends between a pair of homes which front directly onto the road; where it climbs to the top of the ridge and disappears over the far side, the roof of a house is visible.
As Braddon clears the neighboring homes, he can look down onto a single-story house, the footpath continuing directly to a front door facing east. The southern end of the house ends in the bay windows Saul described, overlooking the open waters of the Varisian Bay. Greenery overtops a wall at the north end, indicating that it must be the walled garden, though there is no exterior means of access visible from this viewpoint.
"That green might screen a scaling of the wall, from the view of house. Enough for a look, at least? The wall's better than one man, by design, but less than three and a staff, and one of us formed, favored for lifting." Gristav lays two fingers, standing, more or less, on his leveled staff, and slowly raises staff and fingers as one, with a glance to the top of the wall.
"Friend Gristav, perhaps a leisurely stroll around the premises might first be advised to fully ascertain any complications that we might forthwith encounter." Tendal said, gesturing towards the north side of the property. "If the bay windows are facing the bay, the reverse of the property should be to the right...north I believe. A quick check of those three less visible sides, and removal of our personages from the well traveled foot path might be the best option." Tendal suggested.
"Happy to have your style, helping observers forgive my own, Tendal. Mayhap the staff hints of magery, fitting near the Cypherlodge. Yes, let us have that look."
"Lets just jump the wall to the right. They've been holed up here for ages. They're not gonna start being alert today."
Braddon starts in the direction of the wall.
"And they're not gonna run out screaming into the streets, either. I reckon we have them trapped."
Still undecided about their ultimate approach, the party at least focuses their attention on the garden side of the house. North of the door, there are no windows for anyone inside to observe their reconnaissance.
One tree, not overly large in the shallow rocky soil, just overtops the wall approximately half-way down the 35-foot-long northern wall. Peeking around the northwest corner, the men can see a footpath leading away from a door in the back wall and down the back side of the ridge. Just south of the door, another treetop can be seen, indicating that the door exits from inside the garden. The wall steps out twice as the house widens toward the south; a chimney reveals the presence of a fireplace in the middle of the back wall.
Braddon peers around the corner.
"Hey, there's a door round the back. We may not have to climb the wall," he whispers.
He turns to Phil.
"You're short. Are you able to pick the lock?"
He turns to Tendal.
"Or can you...?" Braddon waggles his fingers.
"I've got rope." He pulls out a length of rope that smells much like the flooded city they recently ambled above.
"If Snake and I slow-lifted my staff, just at one of those trees, with Mapache atop it, there might be leisure for a thorough look, before we commit otherwise.", Gristav suggests breathily.
Tendal nods assent to Gristav as he keeps a watchful eye out, not afraid of acting suspicious now that they are off the path and out of sight.
Looking oddly at Gristav, "Mapache?" he asks, looking around to see if there's somebody here he doesn't know. "Any chance you can keep things in Common, bub? I don't really know too many languages. And why do you need me to help 'slow-lift' your staff? Can't you just do it?" he simply asks.
"Mapache", Gristav says softly, pointing to Phillip, but looking at Snake. "He stands.", Gris adds, putting two fingers atop his horizontally-held staff, "We lift..." Gris slowly raises his staff, near the wall, still horizontal, to the height his arm might reach. "He looks."
Phillip ponders the words for a few moments before shrugging and nodding his affirmation to the plan. Before any attempt to raise is made though, he wraps his face in varisi scarfs.
"Now was that so hard?" Upon Phillip's agreement, Snake assists Gristav in the execution of his plan.
Muffled in scarves to hide his features, Phillip is carefully lifted until he can peek over the high walls. Inside he sees a cobblestoned courtyard. The two trees grow out of planting beds which might, in the spring, be a riot of blooms but which, in the heat of the summer, contain only some bedraggled and half-hearted greenery languishing in the shade. There are two pools, partially scummed over with algae and haunted by mosquitos. It doesn't look like anyone has tended to the garden in weeks.
A door in the southern wall presumably offers access to the interior of the house.
From position elevated Phil narrows eyes and relates "The hired help either aren't at employ or need to be fired. Doesn't look like the garden's been cared for in a healthy span. One door facing us..."
"I wonder if another housekeeper's been laid low."
"...if we tie off a rope I could slip across for a closer look and return... but I wouldn't want to risk it otherwise..."
Braddon thrusts the smelly rope forward.
Phil maneuvers into the foliage and ties the well-used rope to one of the tree's branches before quietly letting down the slack on the inside of the wall.
Tendal continues to keep an eye out for any sign of watchers from the surrounds or the edge of the building to the south.
"There have been two tsunami. The disruption to the city is grave, I am certain that gardens everywhere in Riddleport are of secondary concern at the moment. Regardless, we should be grateful."
With a nod of affirmation, Phil slips over the wall and into the estate. Once within, the first port of call is testing the gate to see if it's locked...
There is a latch on the interior gate so that it can be opened only from within. It doesn't look like it can be left unlocked; it would have to be propped open to provide ongoing access.
Phil takes another wary look about, before opening the interior gate and attempting to wave the rest of the group through.
Braddon draws both his blades and moves lightly into the compound. He crosses the courtyard softly and guards the door to the house as the others enter, listening for any sounds from within.
Gristav lingers a bit at the gate, magicking a penny from an untouched pouch somewhere on his person, and gentling the gate closed-ish with the coin in the way of its latching.
Snake follows behind Braddon, readjusting his pack upon his shoulder and making sure Luck still resides within.
Tendal slips past Gristav, giving him a quick nod as he passed, following Snake into the compound.
The enclosed garden is extremely secluded, even from the house itself, as there are no windows in the northern wall, only a closed door.
Braddon looks to the two swords in his hands, then glares meaningfully at the door into the house.
Musing as he looks around and notices just how secluded the yard is, Phillip's demeanour darkens "You've the right idea Braddon... I suggest we take a more direct tact given the circumstances. Lead on" drawing out his own crossbow and setting string to nock.
Snake reluctantly follows suit and draws his morningstar. "Just try not to make too much noise, bub."
Braddon's glare settles on Snake.
"Maybe I'll need some help then."
He turns to Gristav.
"You've got nice legs. On the count of three."
Braddon stands half in front the door and raises a booted foot.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
Braddon's glare settles on Snake.
"Maybe I'll need some help then."
He turns to Gristav.
"You've got nice legs. On the count of three."
Braddon stands half in front the door and raises a booted foot.
"One."
Gristav steps between Braddon and the door. "No.", he mouthes.
"Two."
"No.", he says softly.
"Three."
"No."
Braddon's boot forestalled, Gristav echoes Braddon's previous hard look to Snake. "Mister Kane...", Gristav asks, "Would you see, if you could open the door, quietly?
Had you forgotten? You have such skills. I worry about you.", he adds warmly.
While Snake parsed the prompt and performed (presumably), Gristav gestured toward the sill, hoping wordlessly for Bolbo to sniff at any gaps above or below the portal, for the sought-after scent of their tiefling target.
"Hm. Yeah I guess I did." He then shoos Luck out of his pack and retrieves his tools. "Still not use to this." Picking out what feels to be the proper tool, he goes to work on the lock.
"Hm. Yeah I guess I did." He then shoos Luck out of his pack and retrieves his tools. "Still not use to this." Picking out what feels to be the proper tool, he goes to work on the lock.
[dice=Disable Device]1d20+12
"I'm not any less worried..."
Snake pauses a moment and raises an eyebrow at Gristav's comment but never takes his attention off the lock as he resumes working at it.