It is midsummer in Taldor, and the heat bears down on the small town of Belhaim relentlessly, even though it has yet to hit midday. It is a sleepy day in the town, with the usual bustle about the commons, talk in the streets, sweat wiped from the foreheads of the hard working farmers, and shopkeeps tending their wares. A caravan rolls in, coming north up the Verduran Highway and stopping just before The Wise Piper.
It's been an uneventful trip from Cassomir. Which is unfortunate, since the caravan's leader, Silas Grigs, had promised a bonus for fending off any banditry. Still, he'd offered a fair wage for the rather mundane work - and it wasn't as though you had anywhere better to be.
Silas hops down off the caravan and give the three of you a big grin.
"Ah, mates, a bit sorry - I'll need a few days to peddle these wares off before I can pay ya! Risks of the trade, you know how it is, I'm sure."
He gives half of a bow, then starts to untie the ropes binding down his wares.
"Don't suppose you lot would care to help me set up shop? I'll put it on the tab, so to speak?"
A few of the townsfolk take note of the caravan - apparently interested in whatever exotic goods Silas may have lugged into town. A few have already started to eyeball the items in the back of the cart.
"Look, Brok, if I've told you once, I've told you twenty times. No advances. You pay up, you get the goods. Got it?"
Brok was standing in the back of Enrie Monette's storage shed. It was a small farm on the south side of Belhaim, and it specialized in growing tobacco. In fact, it grew some damn fine tobacco.
Brok was also privy to the little detail that Monette also had a small flayleaf business on the side. A detail he cared about very much. He didn't come to Belhaim often, but he'd gotten to know Monette fairly well.
Enrie shrugged. "No more favors. No more IOUs. Either get your fix somewhere else, or get some damn money. Maybe if you stopped sleeping in trees and got a real job you wouldn't have this problem. I'd take you on, but, well... have a look at yourself, man."
You open your eyes with a sudden gasp of breath. The light, faint as it is, pains them as they adjust to the sudden wakefulness.
You right yourself, trying to take stock of the situation. Where were you? What happened? The room was dusty, old. Dry-rotten wood lay across the floor. A pair of stone slabs lay to your right - much like the one you are now sitting on. Cobwebs crisscrossed the ceiling, poking holes in the narrows wisps of light breaching through cracks in the woodwork.
Your memory is... foggy. You can remember the monks. You were one. Are one. Your masters, especially Kanjougas - the abbot of the Monastary. A vague prophecy... although you can not recall now what it was. The name Enari. A person? The town, too. Belhaim, was it? And two others, you're fairly certain. There were two others.
Two other what?
The shadowy basement - somehow you knew it was - was warm with the summer's heat. Yet, you are alone.
Uh Silas how much is cure light wound portion? Also, which portion do you have Mr??
"Huh? Healing potion? What would ya need that for? Shame, though, ain't got none of 'em."
He waves over another customer, and starts showing the young woman a set of fine furs. Silas smiles at Kanade and adds " Maybe you're interested in some of this Andoran fur, though?
what other things do u have?? (list me all pleas Gm)
"A lady with fine tastes, eh? Wouldn't a pictured you for it, myself, but to each their own. We've got this fur, as you know. A few works of art - beautiful work, this stuff - from the sands of Katapesh, too. A genuine Korvosan pocketwatch, hand crafted by one of the Acadamae's greatest graduates. He had it for years, he did, 'til he lost his life in a small accident on the South end of town. Yes, yes, we've got the greatest treasures of Golarion wrapped up in a bundle here!"
Silas talks both to Kanade and to the crowd. A growing number of people are gathering around, and within a few minutes there's quite a bustle over the caravan and its wares. A few guard stand idly to the side, whispering to each other and eyeballing Silas.
Perception Check :
Uh.. Silas can i buy those things with 5Gp??
Diplomacy Check:
Silas takes a few silvers from a gray-haired man, handing over a rather fetching hat. He chuckles and waves the man off, then turns to Kanade again.
"Those things? Which things? My lady, you know, these are some fine wares. Surely you know how much I've spent to get them all here - I can't part with them for a pittance!"
"The goods vary, fair lass! Ah, these well-tempered but nearly mint condition Chelaxian riding boots are from a world away! They are like walking upon clouds of joy, and I could not part with them for any less than the five pieces of gold you speak of."
Silas dances himself through the crowd and to the other side of his wagon, putting the boots away and pulling forth a small deck of cards.
"And these, a deck of the Harrow from a true Varisian wanderer! Bought them from the great seer at great cost - but think of the wonders of the future held within? What of your fate might lie within, hmm?"
One of the local guardsman wanders away, obviously growing tired of the merchant's haggling. The townsfolk, however, seem to be doing the opposite. At least twenty to thirty people have crowded around, each craning their necks for a look at the great traveler and his wonders.
Rolling:
Mapping Neural Network...
Evolving Survival Instincts...
Growing Physique...
...
>Input Name:
Alexander Vitomir
My name... My name... is... Alex.
I am... I am a human.
I belong to... Yes, I am a monk of the Monastary of Saint Kyerixus.
I have to... remember.
I have to... wake up? Wait, wake up?
I have to... I must.. Something I have to do.
The witch, the monks, the sleep-
"Wh-Where am I?", Alex gasped, his throat hoarse like it was not used in a long time. He sat up and looked around, seeing a small basement of sorts that had fallen into ruin. The only company he had to herald his return was the spiders absorbed in fixing their webs.
>Look for a way out, attempt to open Door or Window
A cursory inspection of the basement tells you two things. One - it's empty of pretty much anything, having been long forgotten. And two - the only apparent way out appears to be a small trap door in the ceiling.
Fortunately, the ceiling is low enough that you can access it without any difficulty. You've already been hunched over to avoid catching any of the cobwebs with your face.
Except... It seems to be stuck.
Ugh..by Torag's forge...a yammering that's worse than any splendid chord a dwarven hammer's responsible for..." thought Panros Grunyar Lorearthen as he woke up to hazy summer day. After securing his pack and ensuring that none of his precious gear had "wandered off", the dwarf took towards assessing his current situation..which of course meant recording recent events within his journal.
Brandishing an homemade ink pen bearing the lorearthen family rune on it, the Tinkerer smoothed a fresh page within his journal and began writing.
"Several days out on this caravan...lead by Silas. So far...just been dealing with minor scraps and the ever present annoying Elven Woman...ugh, she's as usefull as a sack of flour. And then there's the golden boy who's been with us as well. Can't see him made of any REAL meddle...though, I'm sure Silas has found easy coin with them. Oh right, there's the matter of payment. Black Powder ain't cheap...and neither is my services."
With a journel entry freshly inked, it was time for Panros to see what all that commotion was about. Hopping from the rear of the caravan, the dwarf was welcomed the amassing crowd of which he spotted several of his companions from the journey.
"Oy! LADY! Yea, YOU! You's a horrible excuse for an ELF! Most of dem pansy high snobbery are quiet and head's far up their keisters for whatever magic or craft they clam to. You on the otherhand, pure whiny. Do me a favor, join the next caravan train or learn to kept yer mouth shut in the wee mornin, I need mah rest if I'm gonna be making crafts to show these humans what TRUE DWARVEN CRAFTMANSHIPS LIKE!"
After Panros' explosive display and sounding out the lass, he moved over towards where he saw Silas. Rooting his feet in the ground, he put on his "morning face" and called out the caravan leader.
"Oy Silas! Mind tellin' me where dem gold is coming in? The sooner this little break of your's is done, I'd like to continue. I can feel inspiration comin!"
"Looks like I got locked in here for some reason..."
>Look for Alex's Temple sword
>Use Strength check or Weapon Attack on stuck trapdoor(If weapon is found)
Strength:
Temple Sword:
"Ah, yes, yes... the dwarf. I was wondering when you'd wake, good sir. The gold, as you can see, is coming as we speak..."
Silas turned his head, then slapped away the hand of a young boy who was poking at some of the shinier wares in the cart. A scowl crept across his face, and his cheery demeanor disappeared in a flash.
"Watch yer hand, kid. Might just lose it at that rate."
He smiled at Panros, then gestured to his wares. His overly cheery tone came right back without missing so much as a single beat.
"I don't suppose I can interest you in anything in particular? Perhaps an axe crafted by the finest smith of Janderhoff? Exiled from his clan, forced to craft weapons in far off lands - but a true master of his trade? A truly excellent piece of cutlery, I assure you that."
But there was still the matter of the trapdoor. You put your blade back in its scabbard, and fastened it to your belt. You also take the opportunity to wipe away the dust that had settled into the clothes. You've obviously been here a while.
You crouch low to the ground, and - aligning your shoulders with the hatch's rusted latch - sprang forth from the ground with as much force as you could muster. The wood splintered, and the rusty latch dropped.
"What in the gods-!"
A distinctly started voice shouts out from above. A woman, from the sound of it. A few footsteps resound around the floor above. Dust rose from creaking wooden crossbeams.
"That's one hell of a rat you've got, Anna. Hehe."
A male voice. There was a scraping sound, like something heavy being moved. Suddenly the trapdoor swung open, and you quickly dodge out of the way of it. You must have broken it. Light pours into the cellar, and you find yourself faced with two very confused individuals.
The woman breaks the silence first.
"Who on Golarion are you?"
A smile formed on the cranky dwarf's face that melted away the semi-permanent scowl Panros has crafted since being aboard the caravan.
"Janderhoff, eh?" said the Tinkerer as he eyed the dwarven axe that stood out from Silas' wares. :Bloke's got the audacity to mention something so dear to me. Better not be lyin..."
Adjusting his goggles and leather cap, Panros wanted to get a good eye at the extraordinary axe.
At the back of Panros' mind, the dwarf could recognize a salesman when he saw one...but Silas was a different matter. Having been the caravan leader and somewhat of an ally at the very least, the Tinkerer had to keep some sort of relationship with the business man. After all, how else would be able to travel overland with such convenience.
Silas smiled, holding the axe out for inspection.
"Take a swing, why don't you? I'm sure that'd be all the confirmation you'd need. Your type's good with these, aren't ya? And surely all these people would like the show!"
He winked at Panros, then waved to the people. Some of them cheered, apparently okay with the idea of a mock battle.
"How's about you keep it in your cart, eh, traveler?"
The stoic guard that had remained behind did not as seem enthused. Silas made an over-the-top frown, winked at Panros again, then set the axe back down into the caravan's wagon.
Panros wasn't at all surprised that Silas tried pass off his dwarven wares as authentic, but any Dwarf worth his stone could easily tell a shoddy replication from the real thing. Interesting enough, whomever the blacksmith was tried to feign the aesthetic style of Golden Age Dwarven tech.
Heh, that bloke tried passing something off from me own history...but teh poor sap's not even aware that I'm a learned Dwarf - the most dengerous kind!" mused Panros to himself.
At the guard's request, the "janderhoff" axe had been sequestered into the caravan that Silas kept a good eye on. Lacking any social graces, Panros did the Caravan Driver and the customers a favor. Strutting over to where the weapon was laid, Panros brandished the axe letting the midday sun shine on its metal. For a moment, it seemed like the Tinkerer was preparing to call upon his faith. What had happened was the direct opposite.
In one fell move, the Dwarf cracked the weapon along his knee and tossed it to the ground. It didn't matter if Silas was trying to make money which would fuel the Tinkerer's payroll or future endeavors, but Panros has a sacred mission.
"Oy! This ain't no dwarven steel! Such a weapon wouldn't be broken so easily unlike puny Taldan or Elven craft, aye. Its an insult to my proud history and culture for any replicas to be passed around!"
After saying his piece, the Dwarf spat upon the ground where the shoddy weapon lie and moved about. "Ladies and Gentleman, I take it yall have never had teh utmost pleasure in meeting someone as myself. allow me to introduce myself!" Hopping on a nearby stack of crates, the Tinkerer's voice boomed out over Silas'.
"I am Panros Grunyar Lorearthen. By trade I am an Clockwork Enthusiast, Brewer and Chemist but as the resident spokesman of Dwarven Culture, I feel a need to help temper your knowledge about mah kin. That weapon thar, ain't Dwarven. My people are like the stones and metal that helped forged this world and as such, anything thats Dwarven will last for the test of time...unlike that shoddy cheese cutta dear ole Silas was pushin'. As a Tinkerer is my moral obligation to help restore such fine craftsmanship and love of the art back in this world. So as long as yall follow this caravan, I can perform a world of wonders fer you all!!!
After saying his piece, he scanned the crowd hoping that of the doe-eyed audience, someone would heed his words and be interested in what the Tinkerer would have to offer.
Light poured on Alex's face as the two individuals stared at him in surprise. Alex noticed their surprise, and perhaps fear, and quickly smiled and waved his hand in the air as a hello. He glanced down at his other hand, and realized he was carrying a weapon. That really wouldn't help his case, so he awkwardly dropped it on the ground.
"H-Hello! Um, uh, where exactly am I? I don't really remember how I got here..."
Silas watches in horror as the dwarf smashes the prized Janderhovian axe, its hilt cracked to pieces and its blade chipped. He glanced towards the crowd - only some of whom seemed to put two and two together. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ah, yes, yes! What the short one says is true - wonders of the world, from near and far, all within this fine wagon here. Step on up and purchase a piece of history!"
The townsfolk seemed enthralled by the display. Between the dwarf, the merchant, the short-ish fighter-looking type, and the dozing elf that was still in the back of the caravan, they'd had more excitement in a day than they'd have over the past six months. The summer labors had been wearing thin on the nerves.
The guardsman sighed, shrugging away the whole scene. For him, it meant more work than usual in the rather sleepy town. The second guardsman returned, scroll in hand. He unraveled it, showed it to his companion and laughed.
---------------------
The woman kept staring at you for a good thirty seconds before she could manage to keep her mouth from dropping agape in awe.
"Generally? Belhaim. More generally? Taldor. You want specifics? Apparently, you're in the cellar I didn't know I had. Now what..."
The man tried to stifle a giggle, then cut her off, "At least you know how those rats kept getting in now! And I'll be damned if you really didn't catch the biggest of them all!"
"Shut up, Ernie." She sighed. Long day, apparently, and only made worse by your entrance into her life. And somewhere between you dropping your weapon and the rather poor jest from the fellow, the woman had drawn a knife. It was pointed at you, of course.
"I'd still like an answer to my question. Who are you?"
"Hey now you don't need to be so damn hostile like that, man why can't you just chill out man?"
I start to ponder at what I am going to do to obtain money besides sitting on may ass all day with my cool ass badger.
"Could you help me find a job..."
All of a sudden I hear a bunch of people out side of Enrie Monette's shop. I wait for his response then go out to see what is going on.
"Brok, I've already told you -"
A commotion outside caught both men's attention. Enrie slid open the shed's door, then peeked outside. No one in the immediate area. He stepped outside, and Brok quickly followed before Enrie slammed the door back shut and sealed it with a padlock.
The Monette farmstead was on the south side of town, but it was only just barely off the Verduran Highway. A few shouts and cheers were happening down the road - just over the bridge into town. It looked as though a crowd had assembled in front of The Wise Piper Inn.
"Aw, hell. I hope Lady Origena isn't collecting taxes early again."
The already gruff man looked even worse with that frown upon his face.
"I'm gonna have to ask ya to leave, Brok. I've got some... uh, matters to settle before they get over here. Just in case, you know."
"All right Ernie I shall leave you to your business."
I run over to see what is going on.
You jog down the road and across the small bridge and into Belhaim proper. The crowd had gathered around a caravan's wagon, stacked high with boxes and barrels of unknown goods. A small, stocky fellow had perched himself on the wagon and was chatting with the crowd. They were looking on with something between disbelief and awe.
There was a second man, taller and thinner, with dark hair and eyes. His smile penetrated the crowd, and you noted at least one young woman who was clearly interested in the fellow. The man, however, appeared more interested in showing her a small case of jewelry.
The only other person you noticed who looked out of place was a young woman, clad in shining armor. She was standing looking rather confused, with a pair of blades in the scabbards at her side.
You figure that ol' Enrie would be rather pleased to know it was not tax day.
"I ask the man on the wagon what all this is."
I then walk over to the young confused looking woman.
"Hello miss would you mind explaining to me what's going on, is their an opportunity here for any sort of work!"
Maybe I should go warn Enrie that it is not tax day and that he does not need to worry, why won't he just give me flayleaf.
I then consult with my pet company on what he thinks we should do.
"What if we just stole the flayleaf from Enrie that should be easy right?"
Badger Companion RESPONSE:"What ever you think is best man I want flayleaf as much as the next badger does man but I suggest that we don't do that and just talk to anyone and everyone around this city looking for work."
Brok:"All right now that i think about it that would just get us farther away from our goal most likely"
The two guardsman watch the strange, haggard looking man strolling into the crossroads. A large badger, its eyes glazed over, followed along behind the man and looked strangely happier than normal.
It wasn't until the man knelt down and started chatting with the beast that the two guardsman started to laugh, however.
One of the townsfolk watched as the stranger chatted with the badger, pouted a bit, and then stood back up as though nothing had happened.
"Uh... You alright, stranger?"
The man - looked like a farmer, or perhaps a craftsman of some kind - pointed at the caravan merchant.
"Looks like he might have some work, stranger. 'Course, there's always a farm or two looking for an extra pair of hands in the planting seasons. Surely they could help ya out, too. Though, Talia's inside the Piper there, and she might know a bit more."
I wake up from the sleep due to all the racket caused by the large group of people surrounding the merchant.
[bold]"Where am I? A village? Why are there so many people around us? Oh. right! the merchant man![/bold]
I walk up to the merchant fast.
[.bold]"Hey, merchant dude. We took you here safely. I want my money right now."[./bold]
bold?
and by the way,, gee I rolled a twenty!!
I tried to respond to ThunderCheeze as best as I can..
"Well.. I don`t know. This place is too small to find something to do. Maybe.. we can go to a mayor to ask for a job, I guess.. I even think there would be no mayor for this small town(whispering)"
"Anyway, I will just follow your decision.. I know nothing about this palce.. I hope we can find someone like a mayor of this small town."
With more people entering the mock merchant quarter Silas Grigs had established recently, Panros could recognize that the Elven “lady” and the Golden Girl were bustling about.
”Ugh, they're awake. Time for more yelling and screaming =_= Panros thought to himself with a frown. ”First Silas pushin off a phony dwarven axe and now these children. Torag, please for me patience...and half a mind to deal with them.
While not their chaperone, the Tinkerer felt it was best for him to keep a close eye on the companions whom he had the displeasure of riding with. It wasn't that he hated them, no, well maybe just the elf because they smell funny and have no mind about crafting, but the other wee lass stuck out as a potential nuisance. Sure, alchemy was unstable and unpredictable, but a woman could easily mess up any situation as he had experienced.
Striding over to where the Blonde Woman and the “Lady” Elf stood, Panros garnered their attention.
”Oy, gold's not to be made here if yall are interupin Silas. Best be to ask a guard or something. Though you could pay me...Lady Elf, I've a job perfect fer you...” Insuring that his point was clear, Panros tapped on several vials of alchemical liquid that dangled upon his belt.
While the offer stood for the elf, Panros' eye caught the strangest sight. A man who appeared to be covered in nature's vomit complete with a badger.
"Lad's gotta be some sort of druid or nature bloke, though, that oath of no metal or armor makes em sound as weak as an elf. Ugh, nothing worse than Orcs are Elves."
”Oy lad! You right there? Yer walkin like a forge thats not fully lit.” said the Tinkerer to the human male.
"I remember my name is Alex. I'm a monk from the temple Monastary of Saint Kyerixus. As for how I got here I'm not exactly sure, all I can remember is someone casting a spell on me. Someone who probably lives in this house. Except... You two don't look familiar to me. I guess I'm just as confused as you guys are. We can talk more but, Would you mind helping me up?"
Silas turned to the Elf with his trademark smile. "Payment? Of course, of course! As our dwarven companion here mentions, it is a matter of obtaining said payment."
He watched the elf, then swung an arm over the shoulder of the rather effeminate man. "Of course, you and I have been traveling together for quite a while now. All the way from Oppara, even. It's been quite the trail, let me tell you! I mean, I suppose you would know. You were there!"
He laughs, and a few of the nearby townsfolk joined in. Silas was in complete command of the crowd now.
"For such a friend, I could offer some of our wares - in lieu of the gold, you understand. Of course, the offer always remains to continue traveling the high roads of Golarion on my wagon of trinkets..."
----------------------------------------------
The woman looked surprised at the mention of the Monastery, and her threatening gesture with the knife faltered for just a moment or two. The man reached out a hand, and she slapped it away. He looked rather disappointed.
"That's not possible. The Monastery has been empty for nearly two centuries."
"Oi, you've got a ghost rat, Anna! But can't we help the poor folk, he looks more confused than a de-winged stirge in a bowl of honey."
The woman glared at him, then back at Alexander. She sighed, set the knife back into the fold of her clothes - you're not quite sure where, but it certainly wasn't visible any longer - and knelt to offer a hand.
"You make any funny moves and I'll have you stuck faster than you can blink. And Ernie's more than capable of running for the guardsmen. Got it?"
While waiting for a response from the fellows gathered near him, Panros Lorearthen took towards breaking the hazy spell of the midday sun. The Tinkerer brandished a cigar the size of a child's finger and a twig-like object. After a furious strike, fire emerged and in moments, the Dwarf's countenance eased as he began to enjoy the aromatic flavor of Varisian tobacco.
"Alright ladies...now that I've the unfortunate luxury in your company manners and respect are foreign to all of ye, allow me to say my piece. Panros Grunyar Lorearthen is my name, and if you've got half a mind, Panros or Tinkerer's fine to address me as such". Taking a long drag, the dwarf let out several smoke rings that wafted in the air.
Flashing a small grin, he turned his attention towards the effeminate elf.
"Though, must address as me my full name. I want my name to stay in yer head as the greatest dwarf that you've come across."
At the elf's dismay, Panros continued oblivious of how his words were received. "Surprisingly enough, yes, I'm a craftsman, brewer and purveyor of all that is dwarven which happens to be the best technology available - just look at Janderhoff or my homeland, Five Kings Mountains. Aye, nary have I met an individual who's be thar, I'm probably the only dwarf yall met - but the pleasure's all mine!
Finishing with a small flourish and tap on the cigar, Panros Grunyar Lorearthen had successfully introduced himself. As he expected the other's to follow suit he had the following prepared should his introduction astound the companions.
"I don't know why we've stopped at this hovel of a town, by the looks of eet, not much in the city expansion if I must say myself. Could always use a trained and experienced craftsman, though I don't know how close is the nearest city. By chance, anyone know why've we stopped ere of all places?"
I talk back to Silas.
"You'd better give me the promised gold after your dumb trip! Or I will rip into pieces and make a sausage out of it. You know I used to be a real maphia who would make noodles out of human guts. If you try unusual things, like running away no paying, you will see my ANGER."
Then I walk up to the dwarf.
I roll sense motice check to see if I can tell wheter of not he is bluffing.
After b%$~+ing at Silas, I walk to the dwarf.
"Hey, Pan rose gun art, was it? Anyways, you little fella. I have two things to tell you. FIRST OF ALL, stop calling me the elf lady cuz although I am an elf, I aint no freekin girl!! and second of all, about that job thing you were talking about.. I think I'm pretty interested. What is that job you were taling about?"
Then I walk to Kanade.
"Just who the hell are you supposed to be? You're a half-blood between a cissy human and a freekin angle, right? You know, I really really hate those mudblood. You'd better be good with stuff. You look like my freekin grandma. Who gave you that gray hair?"
I am very dissatisfied at the fact that I have to be with a hotshot-wannabe dwarf and a youngling halfblood cissy. I take out a piece of paper from my bag pack, and I write
These jerks are killing me. I want to get my money back and get the hell out of here as soon as possible. I have lots of other things to do.
Rolling Diplomacy
"Haha, you must be joking about that century thing. At least I got rescued by people with a sense of humor. I'm sorry for intruding in to your home sir and mam."
If diplomacy succeeds Alex also wants to explain that he wants to bring the sword up as well as it is a memento from his monk friends. If they are uncomfortable with that he asks that they retrieve it for him.
I looked at the elf lady without speaking..
"He must be color-blind.. This is white rather than gray. He looks like hyper cissy trying to be cool. I don`t care anyways. Well.. he also looks very silly.. I don`t like him."
Then I ignored him.
"so what are we going to do? I mean.. which job are we going to have?"
"by the way.. does anyone have a map of this town? We`d better use a map to figure what to do."
Looking at Silas with cold eyes...
"oh by the way, Silas, I need money, too. I would appreciate it. And the more is the better. Without a doubt."
Diplomacy check
Silas chuckles at Pixis's remarks, and then - arm still around the elven half-woman - turns him away from the crowd. Silas's trademark smile vanishes, a scowl in its place. His eyes betray a sinister vengeance beneath his happy merchant exterior.
"Look here, elf. You'll wait for pay and you'll like it. You speak of Taldan mafias and assassination..." He fails to stifle another chuckle. He continues, his deadpan voice only audible to the elf and his compatriots as the crowd looks on with curious eyes.
"You will quickly learn to listen to the order that Silas Grigs gives you. Or your blade may find its way into your own gut."
He looks as though he wants to continue, but stops himself as he turns back to the crowd, grinning from ear to ear.
"So who was it that wanted these Molthuni cloak clasps? They're a bargain, truly, and as new as the day they were forged!"
Before Silas can get very far, however, a gruffer looking guard stepped up to the caravan. Nobody had noticed his approach thanks to the little 'pep-talk' that Silas had been giving you.
A glistening longsword sits upon his belt, and a well-crafted tabard of thick fabric bore the image of the Taldan. A single scar marred the man's otherwise impeccable and mildly attractive face, but his expression betrayed no sense of kindness. He laid a gauntleted hand upon the hilt of his blade. You notice a small golden badge also fastened to his belt.
"Sheriff."
"What, may I ask, seems to be the problem here?"
------------------------------------
The woman - Anna, you've gathered - does not look enthused. However, she does help you up, and doesn't even try to stab you once. You're pretty sure you're making progress!
"Not a bit, stranger. Guess thieves don't do their research very well now, huh? Your Monastery is long gone. So who are you really? How did you get into my basement? And... why do you have that strange looking blade?"
Ernie quickly offers to hop down into the cellar and hold the sword for the moment. He examines it, oohing and ahhing at its craftsmanship.
"Quite a blade - I'd bet Big Ol' Baccus would love a look at this! Ain't seen anything like this before."
Anna sighed.
"Well - sit down... Alex, was it? We clearly need to have a little chat. The name's Anagrit." She pulls a chair out at the nearby table, a ramshackle thing with a book propping up one leg. A few glasses of questionable liquid sit on top. She sits down and takes a swig as Ernie pull himself up out of the dust-coated cellar.
Surprised by Sheriff, trying to settle his anger.. and smiling-he`s a man who has moe-phillia, so if i act charming then he would be settled?maybe..
"Uh...Nothin`. The dwarf is just suffering schizophrenia.. Don`t care about it. We`re just selling stuff. We will settle problems by ourselves. Don`t worry. They are jusy crazy cissies(whispering)"
Diplomacy check:
"actually, I don`t care about the dwarf being caught."
Surprised by Sheriff, trying to settle his anger.. and smiling-he`s a man who has moe-phillia, so if i act charming then he would be settled?maybe..
"Uh...Nothin`. The dwarf is just suffering schizophrenia.. Don`t care about it. We`re just selling stuff. We will settle problems by ourselves. Don`t worry. They are jusy crazy cissies(whispering)"Diplomacy check:1d20+9
"actually, I don`t care about the dwarf being caught."
"...being caught or not."
”I am definitly convinced by the dwarf
After b+~$#ing at Silas, I walk to the dwarf.
"Hey, Pan rose gun art, was it? Anyways, you little fella. I have two things to tell you. FIRST OF ALL, stop calling me the elf lady cuz although I am an elf, I aint no freekin girl!! and second of all, about that job thing you were talking about.. I think I'm pretty interested. What is that job you were taling about?"
Panros hadn't payed half a mind to what the Elf was blubbering until he heard “little” which caused his brow to furrow and he unconsciously began to gnaw on his delicate cigar.
”Oy, those be fightin' words there, lady! Though, I can't expect anything else outta someone who just whines.” Letting everyone see his seething anger, Panros cast a long gaze upon Pixis and eyed her up and down. ”Tho for ye, the offer's turned down. Next time you'll hopefully learn matters, girl”
After saying his piece, the Tinkerer was surprised to see the other woman engage in conversation.
By Torag's gleaming beard, the little one can talk! Hopefully she can shut up too!
Surprised by Sheriff, trying to settle his anger.. and smiling-he`s a man who has moe-phillia, so if i act charming then he would be settled?maybe..
"Uh...Nothin`. The dwarf is just suffering schizophrenia.. Don`t care about it. We`re just selling stuff. We will settle problems by ourselves. Don`t worry. They are jusy crazy cissies(whispering)"
The situation grew sour as the human and the elven women payed little respect to the mechanical genius that was Panros. ”Heh, they'll need me later alroight. Har! Whats the first to go, their shoddy gear or their gold, ahahahaha” thought the Tinkerer to himself.
As the human woman was approached by the sheriff, Panros couldn't let her get away with the snide remark about the Tinkerer's mental state.
”Oy WOMAN! Don't you dare accuse the of of such limitations! I've lived a life time longer than any of yall ave. All 154 years, I've spent researching, creating and finding ways to help my people! All yall seem to want to do is yer selfish or to git yer way. You gotta craft your path! Thats why I have such a hard time dealin with yall youngings, feelin like the whole world owes you a blarkin favor! The sheer lack of respect from his contemporaries caused the Dwarf to stifle his cigar and bury it under the heel of his boot in the Taldan soil and he muttered while doing so. ”I ain't crazy”
Panros then turned the situation around and inquired about work or any possible leads from the Sheriff...though not in the most aggreeable fashion.
"Oye Sheriff. I can't see why a bumblebuck town needs so much policing considering nobody knows yall exist. Tell me, is anything to do 'bout ere?"
- - - - - - -
I feel very confused why the little fella keeps bothering me, so I decide to just walk away.
writing on my notebook,
have to find a good job for some filthy lucre/
also never to mess with the little one.
Finally I see the marijuanaed half-elf man standing near the guards finding his way into the cloud nine.
I walk up to him.
"Hey, I see you are also looking for a job here. I am as well. Lets let these chickens keep talking to each other and move down to.. that big square. Maybe we could find a job there."
looking at the dwarf..
"I am not a human but aasiamr. He might have bad eyes"
drawing my long sword and I threatened the dwarf with it(placing my blade just in front of the dwarf).
"Hey, Tinkerbell, Would u shut up and go back to your fairy tale if u keep screwing up and trying to be killed by the Sheriff?",I whispered
Well, If i have to roll for intimidate:
Then, I Looked at the Sheriff
"Sorry for the nuisance. He is having just schizophrenia. Please don`t care about it"
If i have to roll dipo again:
The sheriff watches this spectacle unfold as the caravan's guard apparently turn on each other. Silas cringes a bit, knowing that no good can come of this.
The sheriff looked from the caravan leader, slowly shaking his head, and made his way down the whole line. He was clearly not pleased.
As the townsfolk backed away, now unsure if they wanted to be involved, several other guards came up behind to support his authority. A total of five - the sheriff and four others - stood before the group.
As Kanade draws her blade, the sound of five swords being drawn in near-unison resounds from the sheriff and his men.
"I suggest you drop your blade little missy. Unless you'd like to add intent to kill to your aiding and abetting a criminal."
He then swung his blade towards the elf, who'd begun to wander away.
"And as for you, elf. Stay still. We have business to attend to, and not the sort that involves sorting pretty flowers in your woods."
And of course, he couldn't forget Panros. He scowled at the dwarf. Somehow, he knew that his words would be lost on the short and gruff fellow. A simple grunt sufficed to communicate his displeasure.
The sheriff towards to Silas.
"Silas Grigs? You are under arrest for the crimes of thievery, smuggling, misinformation of the consumer, and suspicion of murder. I'd recommend you come quietly."
Silas' jaw fell agape - it was the first time he'd actually kept quiet for more than thirty seconds. He swallowed his fear and tried to stay on top of the situation.
"Officer, surely you are mistaken. I may be Silas Grigs, but my brother - he is the criminal. He has stolen my name away, and has been incriminating me for years!"
"Aye, and does he have a snake's tongue as well? Arms out, Mr. Grigs."
He reluctantly reached his arms out the sheriff slapped a pair of manacles on them. One of his companions grabbed the new prisoner, and held him apart from the group.
The sheriff gave a satisfied grunt, brushed his hands of Silas, and looked back towards the three caravan guards.
"Now it's the matter of you three. Partners in crime? Moneylenders? Mercenaries? Stupid but entirely innocent bystanders? Who are you three?"
He pauses, waiting for a response, and then quickly adds, "Oh, of course. My manners. The name's Briklar. Sheriff Bruce Briklar. I really do recommend you three cooperate."
"The square, huh?" Brok thought this over. He looked at Rufus, and Rufus seemed to agree that this might be a good course of action. Why hadn't he thought of it? At least, right up until the Sheriff started yelling.
Brok had been in enough legal trouble over the years that he knew enough to back off when the law was involved. Especially when they weren't yelling at him.
With a cough, and a rather-not-so-subtle slide away, he placed himself among the townsfolk at the side of the crossroads. At least for now.
I readied to draw my swords as the Sheriff force us to follow.
"Shiitt.. What the hell.. What has Silas done in his life? What should we do? Perhaps we would find our job in the prison-as a criminal.. Goddaammnn.."
"Mister, I met that caravan when I woke up, and I was in the desert, the middle of nowhere. I know nothing about him, and I was with him just for food. If we were related to his crime, then I would not be here cause he might want stronger warriors-not us. So, like, we cannot fight against you,so.. Silas would not have hired us if we were related to the crime,and he had wanted to hire us to protect from you."
Because I was quite surprised by the situation, I talked the same things again, and screwed many things while I am speaking, hoping the Sheriff understood my jibberish and hoping the Sheriff has pedophilia-by the way, I am cute and young..ㅋㅋ..(althogh I do not want the situation like the Sheriff dripping his dirty sailiva)
diplomacy check:
If I fail in diplo check..
Intimidate:
I walk up to the rather confused and infuriated sheriff.
and I say..
Hey, sir. Sorry to have bothered you. We are not part of the crime, you know. In a sense, we are one of the victims. This man owes as a large sum of money, especially me, and he hasn't payed back yet. However, that white haired old lady seems to be part of the crime. She is very violent and merciless. In our way here, I think I have seen her kill some civilians for not paying her. You saw her vicious movements with her swords, right? That undoubtedly leads to the conclusion that Silas and the woman could have been cooperating in the crime. If you are going to arrest them, I would feel grateful if you had also have them pay the sum they owe me. Thank you."
intimidate
bluff