"Tell me that you got an address. A street name."
Knowledge (Local) Untrained:
"These Tower Girls have not stayed in one place long enough to lay claim to any territory, so should we choose to find them, we will have to ask around for their current whereabouts. I wonder though, if we really want to find them, given that we are hunting the same girl? Perhaps seeking more information about the disappearances would be a wiser use of our time?"
"Huh!, perhaps you can go back and talk to the watch, they might have an idea about these 'Girls'?" says a despondent Natty.
Knowledge (Local) Untrained: 1d20
"Well, I for one think it's an excellent idea to consult the legitimate authorities. Those seedy low-lifes should not be encouraged. Proper procedure is of the essence in all ventures." Erwin adds, briskly.
Zeuth's eye twitches. His expression betraying seething frustration, the warlock simply and cordially - in an exaggeratedly polite and cooperative tone of voice - makes a suggestion.
"Perhaps then, in the future, the half-orc and I might just be in charge of information-gathering and social strategy. Now since we'd only look like fools re-entering this huckster's tent to sheepishly ask follow-up questions regarding the Tower Girls' lair, perhaps someone with more sense than scruples..." - Zeuth gives Erwin a handsome smile - "...might have the know-how to hit the streets and produce an address without involving the authorities."
Zeuth folds his hands and concludes with a painfully insincere (but no less broad) smile, and waits for someone to volunteer.
Erwin mutters under his breath: "Yeah, 'cause you've been hugely useful so far, so why don't you boss everybody around."
"If you gonna argue, let's do it over a drink." say Natty, "It's been a long day, and I could do with one. You never know what the barman might know, now do ya? Then once yous both cooled off, we's find them girls." he says with a wink. "Hope them pretty little things, eh!!"
Jackson finally takes notice of the conversation. Did you say drink? That sounds like a fantastic idea.
As Erwin mutters under his breath, Zeuth raises his eyebrows at the dwarf and smiles inquisitively as he cocks his ear, as if to say "what was that, again?"
Then, at Natty's suggestion, Zeuth appraises the group's reaction.
"Grilling an innkeeper over drinks, mm? Very well, if that's how it's done."
The nearest bar is a nautically-themed tavern called The Old Fang, built on the docks, white-washed facade above and a thick crust of barnacles below. Inside, the walls are covered with harpoons, nets, what look like artifacts from across Avistan and even Garund, all centered on the massive head of an extremely large barracuda mounted over the bar itself. Behind the counter, an older Varisian woman as broad across as a axe handle and a no-nonsense expression wipes down the wood, looking up as you walk in. She gives you a once-over with a wary, considering air, then says, "Come on in, then, if you're going to. What can I get you?"
Zeuth ignores the Varisian barkeep for now, and carefully scans the room, tapping into the viper's emotional range, and allowing the hated serpent to scent the air from its hiding place up his sleeve.
Zeuth's Perception check:
Viper's Perception check:
Viper's Stealth check:
Erwin just smiles blandly in the hope that someone will buy him a beer.
Erwin will also be happy to give Natty some nice recommendations.
Aid Another (if it becomes applicable):
The bar has a few patrons at this time of day; a handful of old salts of indeterminate origin, about evenly mixed between humans and halflings. None seems to stand out significantly, or to give the group more than a passing glance as they enter.
Natty is quick to open his purse, "Well my lovely, to those with a thirst, let's whet our lips and throats here. Ale, for me and my friends. " he says jovially with a wink to the woman. She may be rather older than his normal taste, but no harm in getting her on his side. Never know when a woman can offer you succor and nourishment, if your luck is out. "So my lady of the bar, are you well?" he beams at her, "for if you are in the mood, why your lips can be wetted with a drink for you too?" her asks, tossing back his head. He smooths down his dirty clothes, making a spectacle of himself, as one who tries hard to be above their station. He spits on his grey handkerchief, and wipes the sides of his mouth, smearing the dirt of the roadside across his face, but he smiles none the less. He watches as the woman retrieves the drinks and hands then out.
As the last beer is slopped in front of them, he leans across the counter to the woman. "Say I heard it's not safe in this city, that there's people going missing at night. If you have any daughters, me and me friends would be glad to protect you and them on your way home. Though I bet you don't trust the likes of some of me friends." he whispers conspiratorially across at her. "But really, they's good sorts.That old fortune teller told 'em they's be helping some friendly and helpful people escape from the dark snatcher. But hey what's in a fortune teller's story. I mean he said they'd go to a tower and meet with the girls there. Who knows what he's talking about, you don't know about any Tower Girls do you me lovely?" he asks as innocently as he can. "I'm sure if we could find them girls, it would be worth my friends to lay out a little reward or wager, I mean meeting up with the Tower girls eh? alone and together." he winks suggestively.
The bartender picks up Natty's coin and studies it for a moment before dropping it into her till and pouring six glasses of rotgut and handing them around. When the half-orc does his "prettying up" routine, she watches almost impassively, and her expression does not change when he goes into his spiel afterward. When he finishes, she picks up her drink and knocks it back in one throw. "So, you're looking for the Tower Girls then, eh? Best of luck with that. Word is Donal Carent made a play for Ayala, and when she didn't take to it, he kicked her on her way, and her girls with her. That was about two weeks ago, and they seem to have gone to ground since. I've no idea where you might find 'em, I'm afraid." She puts the glass back behind the bar. "Can I get you anything else?"
"You have something to warm to belly as well as ale." the half-orc smiles at the woman. "You've been most friendly, what did you say your name was again? Perhaps one night, we can have an ale or two ourselves?" as his smile widens and his eyes take in the woman's form, roving up and down. "Never know when I might need a bed to hide for the night." He turns to his friends, quickly looking back at the bartender, "Bring the food, a stew and bread, over to the table when its ready. "
As the scruffy and dirty half-orc sits at the table, he waits for those around him to settle down. He leans across the table, a vertical finger across his mouth, quietly he speaks, "See, now what she said is interesting gossip, which may or may not be true, but let's just say she in a trustworthy sort." He stops, looking at each of you in turn, in case an insight has been gleaned from the previous exchange. "That there Ayala Javeski, clever little ambitious cow from Riddleport, might have had a bit of trouble. She may have bit off more than she could chew, with Donal Carent, a hard one him, leader of the Wreckwash Blades, I mean their name speaks for themselves. Perhaps if we want to find him, we'll need to search for the Varasian camp he calls home, its on the outskirts, may take a little time. One o' you's might have a plan?" he asks, hoping to find more about the Sczarni groups.
Zeuth's Knowledge (local) check:
With a curt nod of thanks to Natty, Zeuth sips heartily from his stein of the rotgut without complaint or even hesitation.
At the mention of Ayala, the warlock's usual faint scowl fades from his face. Interrupting Natty's flirtatious delivery before the woman has a chance to respond, Zeuth sets his mug down with a startling thud and lashes out quickly - the way that a snake strikes - to grip the barkeep's wrist with his gauntleted hand. Leaning across the counter, Zeuth hisses:
"Ayala? Ayala Javeski? Woman, I swear on my mother's no-doubt restless spirit that if you tell me where Javeski is I will make you oh so terribly glad that you did; and if you lie to me, barkeep, I swear by that same ghost that you'll wish that you had not. Now, think. The tower. Where is it. Where is she? If you truly don't know, woman, give me the name of someone who does. Where is she? "
Zeuth's Intimidate check:
So it turns out that threatening Ol' Mam Grottle in her bar is a mistake.
As soon as Zeuth grabs the barkeep's arm, every man in the tavern leaps to his feet and rushes toward you, shouting in absolute fury.
Erwin sighs and looks about for the exit. I should have seen that one coming. These guys are bat-crazy.
Initiative:
Zeuth's initiative:
Viper's initiative:
With an audible growl of frustration, Zeuth instinctively begins to summon up the power of his witchcraft.
Damn it! Not now!
Natty taken aback by Zeuth's intervention, sneers at his friend, "You would make me belly hungry and disturb me stew!" He seeks a way to get back into the woman's good books again, and immediately tries to grab Zeuth. He shouts loudly "You drunken fool, insult a lady would you, out with you!" Then looking at the advancing locals he loudly states, "Stay your arms friends, my friend here cannot stomach a meagre drink as real men like us. I'll redress the insult he made to the fair lady, whose goodness keeps the ale flowing! Rest easy friends, let me kick his arse from here to Pharesma's throne." As Natty attempts to drag Zueth out of the Inn.
Apparently, enough of them saw the group come in together that they aren't willing to buy Natty's story - they pause only for a moment before continuing their rush toward the group.
The viper will ready an action to bite anyone that attempts to search me or otherwise goes under my clothing (where it is climbing/hanging around).
Jackson's initiative:
The larger sailors leap from their chairs and rush toward the group, fists raised and lips curled. Two pile onto Zeuth, who still struggles in Natty's grip, while a third attacks Natty himself and the last turns toward the largest man in the group, Jackson, and takes a swing at him as well. Although Erwin and Arjun do not have anyone facing them immediately, they note that the halfling sailors don't seem to have forgotten them, with a couple eyeing the two specifically.
Erwin tosses his hands up in the air. Hey, I don't want any trouble. I'm only with those guys because they promised me free beer. I'm leaving now, see?
Erwin ducks out the door before any of the sailors can react.
Despite the fists that reign down on him, Natty continues to drag Zueth towards the door, shouting angrily, "Leave him, he's mine to punish!"
Arjun tenses, and it is clear that the normally upbeat Vudrani man has been taken to the edge of his patience.
"Lords' Light, that is ENOUGH!" Arjun shouts, slamming his palm against a table to get everyone's attention. "You lot would have Lord Korada pulling at his hair, had he any! We mean no harm to your dear lady, I assure you. Now go back to your games and your ale and your songs and perhaps I will join you." His nostrils flare angrily as he meets the gaze of any who would look him in the eye.
Oblivious to the shouting, Zeuth's mind races through his options. Looking uncharacteristically helpless as the half-orc drags him backwards, Zeuth watches his most solid lead in years slip away from him.
Damn it. I've nearly her...