"Cool! One of these days I'm gonna have to learn how to heal non-eidolons. It can't be that different, and is certainly useful."
Semsephiel groans as he rises to his feet, he has to slouch considerably to not hit his head on the ceiling. "That was an experience I'm in no hurry to repeat." Semsephiel looks around him at the cramped space and conducts his routine search for traps
"Soooo..." Evalee hovers awkwardly while Semsephiel looks under the table behind shelves. "What do we do next?"
I keep you alive and looking pretty, for starters.
Erin's expression turns to a grin of relief as her wound start to close up. "And we very much appreciate it." She looks around the room as though about to ask something else but seems to think better of it, and she waits to hear about... well, about whatever comes next.
Erin gives a nod to Semsephiel as he awakens. "Nice to have you back."
Nathaniel breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the healing energy wash over him. The taut, irritated skin of his face loosened up, leading the young man to think it had turned back to its healthy shade and not left behind any marks. And if so...then oh well. He had signed up for this.
As Evalee asked her rather important question, Nate arched an eyebrow and turned his attention to the crazed healer, curious as to the response. Rinse, repeat? Or something new?
Yeah, it wouldn't do for all of you to be covered in burn scars. Doc shoots a look at Ashak before turning away. Though his new wounds have closed up, the healing does nothing for his older scarred tissue.
He opens a drawer and pulls out a strip of paper and a pen. This pen is unusual. You see a glass bulb filled with dark, sloshing ink attached to the side of it. What a great invention! A pen that remains attached to its container of ink so that it doesn't get lost! And when you want to use it, you can just detach the ink container and dip the pin into it! This man is a genius!
But he doesn't detach the vial of ink. You notice that this pen is not made of wood or a feather like others you've seen. It is assembled from intricate metal parts. He depresses a small lever in the side of the pen, and a small bubble of air floats up to the top of the ink vial. Doc begins to scrawl on the paper, without ever dipping it in ink! What sorcery is this?
He scratches out a list in barely legible script, then holds it out to the group with one hand as he produces a small bag of coins with the other. I need a few things. Whatever passes for a magic shop in this town should be able to provide them. If you retrieve all of them for me, you can keep whatever's left of this.
He pauses until someone makes a move to take the list before continuing. Now, if they try to just hand them over, don't accept them. These first four substances lose their potency if stored for extended periods, and some of them take a full day to synthesize. They must be fresh. Understood?
You look at the list. It reads:
Distillate of Arjoraam, 12 drams
Dickerberry extract, 52 drams
Powdered Sunstone, 5 ounces
Activated Gavarium, 10% solution, 37 drams
Lanthamine, 30 drams
Realgamar, 10 sticks
Refined Lunarium Ore, 3 ounces
Fine-drawn mithral wire, 2 ounces
Pickled Ironwood Root, 1 sealed jar WITH BRINE
The words "with brine" are thrice underlined.
You've never heard of most of these items, though you may know that dickerberries are small, dark berries that grow on vines in the forest and will cause terrible vomiting and dehydration if eaten, and a sunstone is a special rock that glows softly and gives off heat (though why anyone would want to powder one is beyond you).
"SweetgodsaboveandlesssweetgodsbelowIwantthatpenwherecanIfindonedidyoumakei tyourselfItakebackalloftheuncharitablethoughtsIthoughtaboutyounotthattheywe rereallyuncharitablejustkindofalittleuncharitable." She pauses to take a breath. "How exactly does it work?" She already has a few ideas for how it could work, and wants to know if she was on the right track.
Evalee looks over the list, comprehending only that she doesn't comprehend. That can be fixed. Needs to be. "Do ... you have a book about alchemy I can borrow? Something really basic, to get me started. And ... if it isn't too much of a nuisance, can I borrow your lab, uh, occasionally? I'd get my own components, but I don't have any glassware ... And thank you so much for your time! We'll get your regeants!"
Ashak's face twists in a strange mix of emotions at Doc's words but he responds cheerfully enough. "Ah, of course not. Then I wouldn't be special!"
Nathaniel, not exactly a scholarly sort, merely yawned as the man wrote out his shopping list with his intricate, fancy pen. His eyes wandered over the page, his face breaking out into a grin as Evalee couldn’t contain her excitement. Yup...he didn’t know what any of this was. But he knew how to ask questions and follow directions, so he’d do well enough. Maybe they could split up the list and get done faster. Or maybe they could all go together and he could let Evalee do all the heavy thinking while he daydreamed.
As Evalee enthuses over the pen and the shopping list, Erin lifts off her breastplate and stows it in her pack, stretching appreciatively at the newfound freedom of movement. Chi leaps down from the shelf and clambers into the bag after it, squeezing in just before Erin pulls it most of the way closed.
She turns back to the others just as Evalee is finishing her impromptu list of requests. "You know, Evalee," Erin chimes in, "you can probably buy your own books once we start getting paid." A pause. "Assuming we start getting paid, that is. In retrospect, that's probably something we should have looked into before accepting the job."
A sound from outside brings her back to the present. "Anyway. Shopping. Yes." Erin reaches over and tugs at the plain piece of cloth around her arm, and in the same instant her outfit flickers into something entirely new, the bloodstained leather replaced with a dark grey suit, classy and flawless and very expensive. She brushes a loose strand of hair from her face, looking around at the others expectantly. "Ready?"
Pogug stumbles over the words "substance" and "reagents," but concludes that they must be something good if this man wants them. Perhaps something delicious. Rubbing his stomach greedily, he answers Erin. "Pogug is readies to go find yummies. Er, sub-stan-ces."
"Hooray," the devil says sardonically. "I love shopping."
Semsephiel isn't sure that he knows where these items can be purchased.
He asks Evalee.
Doc looks a bit perturbed at Evalee's outburst, but from what you've seen, that might actually be an improvement on his usual disposition. Bring back my reagents and finish your audition, then maybe we'll talk about it. He produces a flask from one of his pockets (he never seems to have trouble finding one of those) and takes a long swig, then wipes his mouth with his sleeve.
When Doc mentions the audition, Zeera (who has been preoccupied with Ashyr's condition up to this point) speaks up. Thanks Doc! We should be going, and you guys should go talk to Mr. Maleffect. Ashyr and Zeera shuffle their feet through the detritus littering the floor and step out of the wagon. Back in the sunlight, Zeera's golden hair shines as it dances in the cool breeze. Her bare feed pad across the grass in a few quick steps before she stops abruptly and turns around quickly enough that the hem of her dress lags behind, and fans out slightly as it twists to catch up. As usual, a bright smile fills her face.
Ashyr stomps down the stairs more forcefully, then twists to look over her shoulder, trying to inspect the repairs to the backside of her dark garb.
Nathaniel gave the 'doc' an uneasy glance as he talked about the 'audition'. Wait, hadn't they already done that? He'd done got the piss swatted out of him twice now, and that wasn't enough? He'd barely had time to think about it when the lovely halfling woman called through the doorway, offering her advice. The young man waved, goofy grin on his face. "Thanks! Will do!"
He looked to the others, then, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, right? Or should we get all this crap, first?"
"Speaking with Maleffect would require less walking. My vote is that we do that first."
With that, the fiend takes off to find Mr. Meleffect, his summoner tagging along behind him. Semsephiel is glad to get out of the cramped quarters, and he folds his second set of arm/wing things beneath his signature tattered coat, and pulls his kerchief over his mandibles.
Erin shrugs and follows him out of the wagon. "Works for me. The shops will still be there when we're done."
Nathaniel shrugged and followed Semsephiel, Evalee, and Erin out of the wagon, thinking that revisiting their arrangement with Mr. Maleffect might not be a bad idea after all. Not that carnies weren't notorious for being liars and cheats, but it still might help to get some clarification. About pay, for one thing. The young man didn't expect to get rich off this line of work, but being paid to bleed for entertainment usually had a decent compensation, from what he heard.
Pogug scampers out of the wagon after them, eager to leave the man and his strange creature.
He looked to the others, then, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, right? Or should we get all this crap, first?"
Nathaniel ambled after the others, careful to not be the first nor the last. You didn't want to be seen as confrontational, but those in the rear were always viewed as either cowardly or trouble-makers. Time to see what this Mr. Maleffect thought of the group and their capabilities (or lack thereof).
Ashak follows in the back, perhaps he's a coward, or maybe a bit of a trouble maker. Realistically a little of both but the back is where he's comfortable.
"Shouldn't we hit the shops first? Sounded like some of these things were going to take a bit to get ready, we can go talk to Mr. Maleffect while we're waiting/"
"I doubt talking with Mr. Malefect will take long. 'Sides, I think the wait will end at the same time whenever we start it; we'd be working around someone elses schedule. 'Sides, we're already walking towards wherever Mr. Malefect is, and it'll probably take less time to complete both our vital quests in whatever order than to decide definitively what the best order is in which to do them." Evalee pauses. [b]"At least, I think that we're walking to talking with Mr. Malefect. Sephy, where are we headed?"
"To speak with Malefect." Perhaps Semsephiel is confrontational, but he's taken point in the marching order.
"Cool."
Ashak raises his hands in resignation and pulls his hood over his face, appearing to sulk as he follows behind the group.
"Eh, whatever you say Ms. Ribbinz."
Nathaniel glanced at the summoner, her companion, and Ashak with amusement as they bicker for a moment about where to go next, his head swiveling back and forth to regard them. As the issue seemed to be settled, the young man drifted toward the back, leaning in conspiratorially with Ashak. "So, you think it IS Miss and not Misses, right? I mean, she wouldn't marry 'Sephy', right?"
With the lovely Halfling no longer in sight, Nathaniel predictably had settled his eyes on the good-looking summoner in their midst. And she was human, too, which anatomically seemed like it would work out better. Where were they going again? Oh right, to see Mr. Maleffect.
"Well, look on the bright side. If we all die in the next stage of our audition, we don't have to go shopping."
"Well, look on the bright side," the halfling snarks, "If we all die in the next stage of our audition, we don't have to go shopping."
Evalee laughs. "You sound like Sephy! Except, your voice doesn't sound as raspy and gross."
Semsephiel interjects. "'Raspy' is more or less objective, but 'gross' is nothing more than an opinion. One that I disagree with."
"Besides," the summoner carries on, "we aren't going shopping. We're in the market for magical items! There's a big difference in, uh, how exited you should be. Should be. How exited you might be? Crap. I just went and asserted my preferences as a . . . I went and said that other people should feel the same emotions I do when thinking about something that I feel emotions thinking about. Which is silly. So I'm sorry about that."
Nathaniel nodded at the logic of Erin's words, then looked off to the side as what she said actually hit home. Sounded pretty dismal. So far 2 out of 3 halflings he had met had a gloomy outlook, which defied the general expectations of the small people. So much for stereotypes.
The young man added, "I don't actually know what any of that stuff is, so I don't know how excited I should be."
"I don't know what most of this stuff is either! That's why I'm excited to find out!"
"I think," says Semsephiel, "that my voice sounds quite convincingly human. Are human voices 'gross'?"
Pogug perks up at Semsephiel's rhetorical question. "All human voices gross. Also elven voices. Dwarf voices even worse. Orc voices are ok, but goblin - that Pogug - is best!"
"But, me say, you don't sound like much human I hear."
Erin laughs. "Okay, I'll admit, I don't actually mind the shopping - in fact, I'm curious about a few of those items myself." Her face turns a bit more serious. "I'm just... not a big fan of this city. So I mostly try to skim the surface."
"I think," says Semsephiel, "that my voice sounds quite convincingly human. Are human voices 'gross'?"
Erin leans in conspiratorially. "Little bit, yeah. The rest of us try not to say anything."
Ashak leans in to whisper back to Nathaniel.
"Well I certainly wouldn't marry him, but you never know. They are an unusual pair."
Ashak looks up at Pogug's outburst, and calls to him in a rather "gross" sounding tongue.
You approach the main tent for the first time since that first night, back when you thought this would be simple. Now you find that your audition is still going on. What more do these people want from you? You suppose you're about to find out.
Semsephiel reaches the entrance, where a flap of fabric hangs, partially blocking the entrance. Those of you with enough social awareness might conclude that the tent is currently "closed", but you either don't care or don't think that this applies to you. The tall demon pulls the "door" aside, holding it open for Evalee to pass. The rest of you take the invitation as well, and Semsephiel ends up walking in last. He stands behind the rest of the group looking over their heads as you all survey the setting. It looks different in the daylight, and the accoutrements left from the show performed that day are enough to make you question, just for a second, if you are in the right place.
As your eyes adjust, you spot a tall man with reddish-brown hair wearing a long coat on the other side of the tent. His back is to you, but this can only be Gregor Maleffect. He stands, apparently supervising the striking of one set and assembly of another, undoubtedly preparing for the evening show.
"Mr. Malefect!" Evalee calls out to him. "We took a vote and decided that your voice sounds gross. It's OK, though, since Nathaniel's voice sounds gross too. My voice sounds half gross? I'm not sure."
Nathaniel nodded in agreement to Ashak's comment, then peeled away as the knife-wielder spoke some weird-sounding language at Pogug. The young man was about to suggest they indeed go shopping when they approach the tent in its current state, but his objections die in his throat as Semsephiel brushes aside the entrance flap and invites Evalee in.
Not wanting the summoner to enter alone for multiple reasons, Nathaniel hurried after the young woman only to be too late. His mouth hung open at Evalee's called out greeting to their prospective boss. He wracks his mind, trying to come up with something to soothe what she had said, but then only could shrug, offering a weak grin to the half-elf as he eyed Maleffect, waiting to see if the man had a sense of humor or not.
Erin passes through the entrance just in time to hear Evalee's abrupt comment. She steps up behind her and whispers, "You did catch the part about trying not to say anything, right?" Her tone is still lighthearted, but with an edge of exhasperation.
Semsephiel listens with bemusement as Evalee obliviously puts her foot in her mouth. "I don't think your voice sounds gross," she continues, "in fact, I think human voices sound pretty normal. But the people have spoken, and democracy is, uh, well, it's pretty cool."
Semsephiel decides that he should probably say something. "This all makes a lot more sense in context," he says in his best human interpretation, a sound not entirely unlike scratching groves in a ceramic dish with a sharp piece of metal while roaches chitter to each other in the background. "And since you don't want to hear the context," this said in a voice weary of walking the mortal plane, "it's probably best to pretend you didn't hear anything. Zeera told us we should speak with you?"
Having entered a new location, Semsephiel looks around for traps, exits, and any terrain or items that could be useful in a fight. He'll then situate himself wherever in the room has the best view of the entrances and exits, preferably with his back to a wall. He does this casually, out of habit.
Gregor turns, seeming (thankfully) not to have heard Evalee's initial comment. There you are. He approaches, but then he walks past you to the tent flap. Holding it open, he says Let's talk outside.
As the group exits, he walks about 30ft, leading you away from the tent, before turning to face you all. You did well, for a first try. He reaches into an interior pocket of his coat and pulls out a small bag. It has the distinctive jingle of a purse full of coins. As he tosses it to Ashak, a single silver coin slips through the cinched top of the bag and falls to the ground. Gregor continues, The winners' purse is paid in gold. If you ever want to win, you'll need to learn to work as a team, and you'll need to be more clever. I need to see that you can learn these things.
He shades his eyes as he looks up toward the top of the big tent. You can take the rest of the afternoon off, but I want you to come back tonight, after the carnival has closed. Then, seemingly changing the subject, he asks Do you see that yellow flag?
A slender triangular streamer flaps from the top of the long pole that supports the center of the big-top tent. You each turn and have to shade your own eyes as you look up to spot it. Without waiting for a response, Gregor continues. I want you to bring it to me. You will make your attempt only at night, while the carnival is closed to the public. My people will be walking the grounds, and you'll need to try not to be spotted. If any of them manage to tag you, be it with a hand, a weapon, or magic, you must leave the grounds immediately, and you will be unable to participate until the following night. The carnival will be here three more nights. If one of you doesn't put that flag in my hand before then, you will all be left behind.
Lowering his hand and looking back down to the group assembled, he adds, Any questions?
Lowering his hand and looking back down to the group assembled, he adds, Any questions?
Erin looks up at the flag, then around at the party, then back at Maleffect. "I assume knocking down the tent would be frowned upon?"
Nathaniel looked up to the top of the tent pole, brow furrowed in concern and frustration. He had just received two serious beatdowns in as many days, and there were more obstacles to overcome. Calming himself, he snickered at Erin's question, nodding anyway. It was a creative solution, but unlikely to overcome the general irritation of Maleffect should his big top come tumbling down.
A plan formed in his head, but it was just starting to hatch. "Will it be lit in here? How dedicated a surveillance will there be? I mean, will they all just be staking out the joint? Or just casually passing by on occasion? That will probably effect how we plan."
Frowned upon, yes. Gregor's tone says that this is an understatement.
Pogug gives a chuckle. "Game reminds me Pogug of Frog-Chuck. Or maybe Boom-Grab. So wes just grab flag and gives? Pogug could climb up right nows!"
Ashak opens the coin purse and counts out the payment as he speaks.
"Sounds easy enough... Or at least easier than the last challenge."
Nathaniel looked up to the top of the tent pole, brow furrowed in concern and frustration. He had just received two serious beatdowns in as many days, and there were more obstacles to overcome. Calming himself, he snickered at Erin's question, nodding anyway. It was a creative solution, but unlikely to overcome the general irritation of Maleffect should his big top come tumbling down.
A plan formed in his head, but it was just starting to hatch. "Will it be lit in here? How dedicated a surveillance will there be? I mean, will they all just be staking out the joint? Or just casually passing by on occasion? That will probably effect how we plan."
"We can further discuss strategy while we are making our purchases. Ms. Ribbinz, I believe you know the way to the Artificery?"
"Yup!" Evalee is always happy to share her encyclopedic knowledge of everything (except alchemy) to everyone (except the people she doesn't particularly like). "Didja know sometimes people just call it the 'Ficery, which is short for Artificery but also sounds like 'Fishery'? It's 'cause the whole place smells like fish."
"I did not know that," the devil rasps evenly, "Nor do I particularly care now that I do."
Evalee keeps talking. "It's on the tip of my tongue . . . what's it called, when you use a homophone humorously? I can't believe I forgot."
"I neither know nor care," reiterates Semsephiel, though he would, in fact, know, were he paying attention.
"Pun! It's a pun."
"That's wonderful, Ms. Ribbinz."
"Yes Let's be on our way. The faster we find these things the more time we have to plan our little heist."
Ashak gives Mr. Maleffect a mock bow as he turns to leave. "Mr. Maleffect"
Nathaniel just offers Mr. Maleffect a small nod before turning and joining the others. With amusement he listened to the back and forth between 'Sephy' and Evalee, wondering what kind of awful crimes the devil had committed in the Pit to get condemned to serve such a happy, carefree soul.
As they walk, Nathaniel starts to speak to the others about the capture the flag ultimatum they had been delivered. "I can move about silently enough, I suppose, but I think we'd be best served if some of us split up and became a distraction force, while the others focused on quickly obtaining the flag. Perhaps we could even purchase a ladder to balance against the beam and make at least the beginning of the climb easier!" The young man is obviously pretty proud of himself for thinking of that idea.
As you walk the short way south along the road, you shade your eyes against the sun as it sinks toward the horizon over the sea to your right. Ahead of you, the walls of the city loom high.
To your left, the even masonry of the stone walls bends upward, climbing the side of Mount Cyeris. The Tiered City of Vliasport extends from the bustling seaport right up the western face of the mountain. A series of inner retaining walls hold the mountain back in a series of planes that resemble an enormous staircase. One can just imagine such stairs being built by the gods to ascend to the heavens, and the industrious race of men coming along later to build their homes and shops and factories in their footprints.
Vliasport is a free city populated mostly by humans, though it also has a significant halfling contingent. The tiers of the city are reflected in its class system, with the aristocracy inhabiting the higher levels, the opulent governor's mansion built into the vertical face overlooking the rest of the city, and the poor and working-class confined to the lower levels. Slavery is officially prohibited, but the only halflings to be found on the higher levels are servants, who although they are paid a token wage, are slaves in practice if not in name.
The lowest level contains one of the largest shipping ports in this part of the world. Goods come in and go out all day and night. Free trade thrives as a result of low tariffs and the city's location at a nexus of several major trade routes. In many cities, one would have to venture in the the realm of the aristocracy to purchase magic items, but the busy port provides enough demand for proprietors of the Artificery to enjoy moderate prosperity in their location near the docks, mostly providing low-level magic items to the ships, traders, and business owners that form the foundation of the city's economy.
As you approach the gates, the goblinoid members of your group draw some attention from the guards on duty at the gate. You get the sense that were they not accompanied by a greater number of humanoids, the guards might attack them on sight. State your business, one guards says. He is armed with a spear, and although he is clearly addressing Nathaniel, Evalee and Erin, his eyes remain fixed on Ashak and Pogug.
Nathaniel smiled in a friendly way at the guard, moving to stand in front of Ashak and Pogug to break the guard's line of sight. "Hey there, friend. Just off into the city to do a bit of shopping. Our friends back there have never been in a city before, so I promised them I'd take them with us." He leaned in conspiratorially to the guard.
"We'll take good care of them and make sure they stay out of trouble, ok? They're good enough men. We'll vouch for them." He looked back at the others and gave a thumbs up sign, then brought his finger to his lips and urged silence, eyes on Evalee.
Erin shoots Nathaniel a strange look, but quickly smiles and nods as she steps forward to face the guards. "Yes, we shouldn't be staying more than an hour or two." She speaks with a slight upper class accent that matches her outfit, but seems at odds with her previous demeanor.