The World of Eafphqu: Team "good." (Inactive)

Game Master Hoary and Wizened

Thjorvar laughs himself all but silly when Psalm asks if he works for the Arcane Order as a Sender.

This implies all Senders work for the Arcane Order. Is that true or just part of Thjorvar's inner monologue. I did not realize that. It would have made me far more trusting of Fin had it been known. I thought Senders were a network unto themselves that people within the Republic used. I didn't see or realize they were an arm of the the Arcane Order.

One of the most useful factions that the Arcane Order has given to the Republic is the organization of Senders. Senders are casters of above average skill, who have mastered the Sending spell. Senders are recruited from the Order for their skill, their loyalty, and their willingness to relocate throughout the Republic. Stationed in cities and villages throughout the provinces, as well as embassies within recognized and friendly foreign nations, the Senders, who are all acquainted very familiarly with each other, will use their magic to send messages to another Sender, for a fee of course (all such fees are waived for messages of diplomatic importance). These fees fill the treasuries of both the Republic and the Arcane Order. In addition, the Senders, by the very nature of their services, have become one of the government’s premiere intelligence gathering agencies. These magical messengers are also the Republic’s first warning system of trouble in the outlying areas.

Thanks for posting the relevant citation from the setting site, Quint. @Psalm, yes, all Senders were handpicked from the ranks of the Arcane Order, and therefore owe their allegiance to the Republic and to the Arcane Order... not necessarily in that order.

Senders wrote:

One of the most useful factions that the Arcane Order has given to the Republic is the organization of Senders. Senders are casters of above average skill, who have mastered the Sending spell. Senders are recruited from the Order for their skill, their loyalty, and their willingness to relocate throughout the Republic. Stationed in cities and villages throughout the provinces, as well as embassies within recognized and friendly foreign nations, the Senders, who are all acquainted very familiarly with each other, will use their magic to send messages to another Sender, for a fee of course (all such fees are waived for messages of diplomatic importance). These fees fill the treasuries of both the Republic and the Arcane Order. In addition, the Senders, by the very nature of their services, have become one of the government’s premiere intelligence gathering agencies. These magical messengers are also the Republic’s first warning system of trouble in the outlying areas.

Obviously an oversight on my part. Point being that she wasn't just a mercenary figure (which is how she came off to me). She as part of the Arcane Order was trying to help us even though we made things difficult for those in the Order that were behind the experiments with the worms. So her concern for people outweighed her loyalty to the Order alone. It doesn't much matter now it would have made me behave differently before. That is part of the fun of playing a home brew. The lore is new too. Tack it up to being from a different region I guess as a gnome.

"Might want to use a messenger ourself, to run reports back here. Might look odd if we just show up here each eve." She considered some of the pretties outside. "Or not, maybe, if we strike up some friendships." It would serve as cover...and more than one of the people out there had caught her eye. Eyes, really. There had been a lot to look at.

"Other than the servants of the Senator, do we have any ties to the other orders? A nosy around might find out if this cult has got some ties to all of them. If they want control of the Republic they're gonna need 'em all, I would think."

"Do any of you have homes or residences of some sort here in the capitol? Any who do not have an abode here, would not look at all out of place returning here each eve, since we have no other place to return to. And as Nikeisha says, making 'friends' here might not be a bad idea. Besides the pleasure the friendship could provide, the wait staff at an inn is often a good source of information as well. Other than that though, I am not sure where else we should start asking around. Do any of you have any idea where else we might start discreetly asking about?"

"I have traveled with some of the rangers from the Order of the Wild. I wonder what they might . . ." His voice trails off obviously entertaining a question.

Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24 Outside chance something of this is known.

"Do any of you have homes or residences of some sort here in the capitol? Any who do not have an abode here, would not look at all out of place returning here each eve, since we have no other place to return to. ...

Quint realizes that he has no reason to go back to his rooftop hiding place. Even if the senator hadn't offered her own silver to pay for their housing here, he now had enough coin in his pocket to stay in a place like this for months, maybe more. He had just divided up a sack of coins that were collectively worth more than all of the ones he had ever touched before this night put together.

I'll take up rooms here. he says, trying to sound nonchalant about the subject.

Deception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

He does.

...Do any of you have any idea where else we might start discreetly asking about?"

I can think of a few people who might have heard something. I can ask around, discreetly. Quint considers each of his new companions in turn. I should probably go alone, though. For the first time, Quint wishes he hadn't tossed away his old clothes after picking up his new ones from Lira. Dressed as he is, the places he would need to go might be dangerous even for him. Then again, with the magical tricks he has learned, he figures he's not the easy mark he might be taken for. He can't call and calm the winds like Gastin the Great, or throw thunder and lightning from his palms like Arktos the Arcane... not yet, anyway... but there must be some way to use the magic he's learned in a fight. And, of course, he always would always have Windsong, the Merrowslayer.

Hack shrugs.

I'll likely be stayin' here, if there's a room available. I have no friends or fellow Highlanders in town, other than Thjorvar.

I'm just going to plant some seeds here based off of the rolls that Quint and Psalm had, in the hopes that it might narrow the sandbox a bit for those that feel overwhelmed. Then I'll wait for the "high sign" from everyone that they are ready to push things ahead to the end of the first week of investigation. In regards to that. If everyone just wants to make a post with a spoiler tagged "Investigation:[insert focus of investigation here]" and then whatever skill rolls you feel are the most appropriate for your character to make. I think every character has something they can offer here, every character has connections they've made, or can make. Even Hack. Hack might ask around about "underground" fighting pits where the rich gamble on the violence of the angry and less fortunate. In which case he might roll a survival check, or an intimidation check, or whatever he feels is appropriate. My point being, there are avenues of investigation that everyone has open. So just tell me what particular area or areas your character would focus on, and then roll the most appropriate skill dice. I'll put spoilers for each character in the Gameplay thread, in a post that's marked 'Week 1 Investigations,' after I see all those rolls. Then you all can take it from there. :) To get things started...

Psalm looks over the multi-colored star sybol, "The colors . . . like dragons. There is an old legend of a dragon with 5 heads each was a different color. A child of Desomos bent on the destruction of life. Kraiula queen of dragons. The more fanciful end to the tale ends with her being thrown into the sea and Draketooth Isle is her corpse." He looks up, "More than politics is at play if a cult devoted to the Dragon Queen is at work."

"A dragon god?" Nikeisha considered her wallet. "Well, this seems like we might need to ask for more money to stop that. Hell, I think I'd want more money to deal with any dragon. I've heard they're pretty dangerous things. Like going into a dungeon or catacombs or somethin' unprepared. Dungeons and dragons, both things I like to avoid."

... Dungeons and dragons, both things I like to avoid."[/b]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! You are in the wrong game then Nikeisha! Loved it!!!Thanks! Need the laughs today!

@Jun, your post was most excellent. A paradigm for those to follow. Focused enough so that I understand exactly what you were doing, but open enough to give me room to operate freely as needed. Thank you! And, don't worry, those History snake eyes won't impede your investigation too terribly much. :)

A few questions.
1- Is there a "great library" Its the capitol of the republic so I imagine so or something like it.
2- Is there open worship of Desmos in the city. Assuming our prvious mentions that sometimes law-abiding people worship evil deities to avoid calamity.
3- Is anyone who I learned of these legends from possibly in town.

Thanks!

Quint stays up late into the night, first discussing with the others, then thinking on his own about what he could possibly do to ferret out this cult. What do I know about cults? Isn't that just a word that large congregations use to denigrate smaller ones?

This cult is clearly a danger to the republic, though. More to the point, with the money the senator is offering, I'll be able to pay a full tuition to the academy.

The academy! What would happen to it if the cult got its way? If they've already infiltrated the Arcane Order... were they behind what happened in Blueblossom?

Thoughts like these jostle and crowd Quint's thoughts, staving off the onset of sleep. He tosses and turns, trying to get comfortable. No, the problem is that he's too comfortable. The bed is too soft. The blankets too warm. The room too quiet.

He finally scrambles down from the bed and over to the window. When he gives it a tug, a small lock of shiny brass embedded in the fram holds it fast. Clearly, the inn's proprietors don't want guests opening the windows. Quint runs his fingers over the lock, feeling the size of the hole. A small shim made of steel wire hammered flat that he retrieves from his tools makes short work of the lock, and he pulls it wide against the grinding of the disused hinges. I'll have to do something about that in the morning...

A cold breeze makes the curtains billow, and the muted noises of the city at night waft in past them. He can hear indistinct voices in drunken conversation as someone stumbles their way home along the street below. In the distance, he can just make out a few faint notes of music still being played in a tavern somewhere. Screeching rings out from a nearby alley where a pair of cats bicker with tooth and claw over ownership of some injured prey.

Then, eschewing the supple mattress and cozy woolen blanket, Quint grabs his cloak and wriggles under the bed. He finally drifts off to sleep with his cloak pulled up around his chin against the chilly night air, with his cheek resting against the cool, rough floorboards.

---

In the morning, Quint awakens to the sounds of the bustling street outside. He pulls out his tools and oils the window's hinges, then he inspects the lock. It's well made, but by filing a notch in the frame, he makes it possible to slip a pick in from the outside to trip the mechanism so that he will be able to come and go unseen. He finishes by soaking a bit of his oil into the wood to make the fresh cut look like old damage before re-locking the window and heading down to breakfast.

Down in the common room, Quint fills a plate with fresh bread, runny eggs, and little sausages. He then finds a corner where he can sit and observe the other patrons. Through his new clothes are a good start, he needs to learn to act like someone who can afford to stay in a place like this as well if he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. He begins to shovel food into his mouth, then notices that everyone else is studiously using utensils, even for the bite-sized bits of sausage that seem made for popping into one's mouth. He discreetly licks his fingers clean, tasting a bitter tinge from the traces of oil left on them from his work upstairs, then picks up his fork and sets about eating like one of the city's upper class.

To be continued...

Quint racks his brain. Who does he in the city that might know something about the cult? Torgand knew about Amotz Arlytwondzhun. Maybe he would know something about this, too? I've already visited the him though, and he isn't known for his generosity. If I went to him looking for information, without something to buy or sell, any answers would cost me. Torgand had seen his new clothes and the weight of his purse, too. Buying information from him wouldn't be cheap, and it would take a bigger deal than usual to loosen his lips. Quint would have to acquire a second purse that he could conceal inside his waistband to keep most of his coins out of sight, and never let Torgand see his platinum!

As he sits near the door in the common room of the Black Pegasus, Quint practices using his invisible magic hand. Whenever a breeze blows down the street, he creates subtle effects, like making a torn bit of discarded cloth flutter up into the air as if on its own, or noisily rustling the shutters in a window actors the street to startle a passerby.

Nobody at Lady Hedregar's orphanage would know anything about cults or the political dealings of the republic, but once we have some leads, I could take a handful of silvers there and buy a network of spies that could move about the city without drawing suspicion.

A man passes, self-importantly hurrying down the street with a sheaf of papers tucked under his arm. Quint plucks out a loose sheet and stifles a laugh as he makes the man chase the liberated paper down the street.

Euric disappeared three months ago. He's probably turned up dead in an alley somewhere by now.

A carriage pauses in the street outside. The curtains are drawn, but Quint uses his invisible hand to slip them open enough to see that there is a couple making out inside.

Wegyck and Haegret had always been good sources of gossip, but neither of them has been able to hear anything that anyone but the other has tried to tell them since the two started dating.

A fat young boy in expensive-looking clothes places a bit of cheese on the ground then stands nearby, watching and gripping a wooden mallet. When a mouse comes sniffing around the cheese, the boy raises the mallet high above his head, obviously about to bring it down on top of the mouse. As the boy jerks the mallet to a stop at the end of his backswing, Quint give it an extra push backwards. In his tight grip, the force on the mallet is just enough to throw off the boy's balance, and he lands hard on his fundament. Startled, the mouse runs off into a crack in a nearby wall.

Dofthmuk is always talking about one conspiracy or another, but the latest involved the nobility inventing the crimson flue and implanting it in rats to kill off the poor.

A young man in a soldier's uniform walks hurriedly down he street carrying a small bundle of roses. A strong breeze makes one of them slip from his grasp, and when he begins to run after it, Quint uses the hand to hold it in place so he can catch it.

I haven't heard from Borgramir since he joined the republic army. I hope he's ok.

An older noblewoman walks past, verbally abusing a servant girl who trails behind her, fumbling with an unwieldy armful of fabric rolls. The short human girl has dark hair tied back in a frayed bun skewered with... knitting needles? She reminds Quint of Lira, though her hair is shorter and at least half a shade lighter.

Quint doesn't like the way the woman is talking to her. The woman's skirts hang low near the ground, and Quint pins one of them to the ground just long enough for he to step on it. There is a sharp ripping sound, and the woman nearly falls on her face. The servant girl quickly turns away, pretending not to notice as she stifles a laugh. When she turns, her deep blue eyes briefly meet Quint pale green ones, and he shoots her only the slightest of smiles.

If Rietta knew something, she certainly wouldn't tell me. Quint misread her sexual advances late last year, and feeling rejected, she has since tried to murder him three times.

It's getting late now, and the sky is getting dark. A young woman with golden-yellow hair flying free in the breeze bids farewell to her friends down the street, and starts walking alone in the direction of the inn. She passes a darkened alley on the far side of the street, and a taller man with a tricorn hat pulled low to conceal his face steps out of an alley and begins to walk quickly up behind her. Nobody is around to see, nobody but Quint, and the man is clearly planning to rob the woman, or worse...

Using his invisible hand, Quint pushes up on the hat's folded brim, knocking it up off his head and revealing his face. With a look of surprise, he stops in his tracks and looks around. Stripped of his anonymity, the man turns and hurries off in the other direction, not bothering to pick up his hat. The woman doesn't notice any of this, and a few moments later, she steps through the door into the black pegasus, still laughing to herself slightly about something one of her friends said earlier. She smiles briefly at Quint as she passes him.

When she goes up to her room, Quint hops down from his chair and walks out into the street. He picks up the hat and dusts it off. It looks brand new. He tries it on, looking at his reflection in a nearby window, and decides it suits him.

I guess there's no way around it, Quint thinks to himself, I'll have to go talk to the Shepherds.

1. YES! But... The greatest library in all of the continent of Iewiuf is the Arcanium inside the tower of the Arcane Order, and the only people allowed into it are members of the Orders, members of government, or those private citizens that pay the exorbitant sum necessary to gain entrance. Even then, the library is broken up into five separate levels, each higher level having more security, and, likewise, more "classified" information. Private citizens are only ever allowed into the lower two levels of the library, and there's a separate fee for each level. There are rich members of society that have their own small private libraries, and they share those with their friends. Obviously the Order of the Arcane has convinced the leaders of the Republic that knowledge can be dangerous, and therefore have pronounced themselves the protectors of that power.

3. If, here, you mean are there any Rangers from the Order of the Wild that you traveled with currently on respite in town? Let's leave it up to the dice. Rangers, especially those that are mission capable, do not frequently stay in the city for long, coming only to replenish, debrief and get new orders. So let's say there's a 25% chance that any of your previous Ranger acquaintances are currently staying at the Order of the Wild compound. I'm calling high here, so 76-100.
In Town?: 1d100 ⇒ 86
The dice are on your side! :) Yes, one of your previous acquaintances, Maldeth, the half-elf Scout is in town, and he was one of the people that shared the lore about Kraiula with you. :)

Psalm spends the evening after the encounter with the Senator in the Black Pegasus thinking. He retires his head swimming with ideas. perhaps someone from the Order of the Wild can get me access to the Great Library. Its worth a try.

In the morning he makes his way to the Order of the Wild facilities and seeks out any of the rangers he had previously known in the months he journed south from the mountains. After asking about he learned that one of his old friends Maldeth was in town. He asks around and stumbles on his old friend. "It seems the wind has blown you back to the capital. How long have you been couped up? We should get some breakfast." As he breaks fast with his former traveling companion he asks after the matter of the Dragon Queen, "I was thinking of one of the stories you once told me. About Kraiula, queen of the dragons. I need to get a handle of the legends, if any of them are true? Knowledge of her seems sparce."

Quint ascends the stairs to his room, and locks the door behind him. Better if nobody wonders where I'm off to at this late hour. Donning his cloak and his new hat, he swings the window open and pokes his head out, identifying a narrow ledge below and a few other useful handholds surrounding the window's frame. His room doesn't have the best view in the inn, but it suits his purposes perfectly. Below is a narrow alley, across which lies the roof of the textile shop next door. The shop has a high vaulted ceiling, but no upstairs apartment, making the roof the perfect height for him to jump to from the ledge below his second-story window.

Quint climbs out and closes the window behind him, using a pick to trip the lock and keep it closed until he returns. He barely turns to look before he leaps, twisting his body in the air to land and grasp the cool clay tiles. He absorbs the impact with his knees as he crouches down into a runner's pose, dropping one hand down onto the upward slope of the roof in front of him. Never stopping to let his momentum die off entirely, he thrusts himself forward, and in no time at all, he's made his way to the next roof, and the next.

Getting around this way is more natural to him than walking on solid ground. More natural, almost, then breathing. The Wall encircling Castle Redwood looms overhead, closer than he usually liked to get, but it shrinks into the distance as he bounds from one sloped roof to another, silhouetted against the deep indigo of the autumnal evening's sky, and the light of the harvest moon Laureoth just beginning to wane in the firmament above.

Btw, when looking up the date, I noticed that we landed back in Rydwyrna on Ilsa 9. Was this an election year? If so, those would have just happened...

Quint makes his way west. The Shepherds' territory straddles the border that runs between Rydwyrna's sixth and ninth districts, and Quint stops to admire the spires of the Arcane Order's compound and think about the academy as he passes. Soon. If he does well on this job, his purse might be heavy enough to pay a full tuition by the next time admissions come around.

The Shepherds had tried to recruit Quint on several occasions, but he was nervous about doing their type of shady work so close to the Arcane Order's compound. He worried that one of the Order's archmages might eventually find himself down a dark alley, set upon by the crew. He had no illusions that he or any of the Shepherds could hold their own against that kind of power. Even if Quint survived such an encounter, being spotted in a situation like that would ruin his chances of ever entering the academy. It wasn't worth the risk.

Besides, the Shepherds were high-profile enough for the city's larger crime syndicates to take notice, and to demand dues that the crew was perpetually working just keep ahead of. Their work turned violent more often than Quint would like. Cutting purse straps and running the odd grift, he never had a big enough footprint on his own to draw such unwanted attentions.

As Quint skirts the streets and alleyways, he looks down from his rooftop vantages, searching for signs of Shepherd activity. He doesn't know what scam they'll be working tonight, or exactly where, but unless they're out celebrating a big score, they must be here somewhere.

As Quint crosses an abandoned building, he hears the soft sound of muffled sobbing from the alley below. He peers down to see a lone feminine figure, crumpled beside a discarded barrel among the refuse. She wears a faded blue dress that shows fresh scuffs and stains, with one alabaster shoulder laid bare by a torn sleeve. Her disheveled black hair cascades forward over her face and shoulders.

Quint crosses to the street side to find a good place to climb down, then backtracks to the alley, and approaches unhurriedly, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible in his dark cloak and low-slung hat.

The sobbing gets louder as he approaches, until he's nearly standing over the girl. From behind him, he hears the crunch of gravel beneath a booted heal, and a bowstring being drawn back in a window above. Before he can turn, he spots a glint of shiny steel flashing out from behind a fold in the girl's dress, while the long, slender fingers of her other hand strike out to grasp Quint's outstretched wrist.

Bhaaaaaaa. Quint says, doing his best impression of the noise a sheep makes.

The steps behind him grind to a noisy halt, and the girl's motion freezes, then she yanks him close and knocks his hat off, exposing his shock of greasy red hair to Laureoth's cool moonlight. With her other hand (the one still holding the smooth, glistening dagger), she pulls back the dark wig to reveal her face. Her own hair is a silvery blonde, even lighter than her creamy-white skin. The long bangs of her short, asymmetric cut fall past dark, thinly-arched eyebrows to brush against her thick, black lashes. On the shorter side, her hair reveals one ear that comes to a shallow point, expressing an elven ancestry that must be at least three generations removed. The tip of her long, narrow nose is turned slightly upward above plump, full lips the color of pale raspberries. Thick, sinking disappointment can be heard through the recognition in her smoky, faintly-accented voice when she speaks.

Quint!

He has located the Shepherds.

In the morning he makes his way to the Order of the Wild facilities and seeks out any of the rangers he had previously known in the months he journed south from the mountains. After asking about he learned that one of his old friends Maldeth was in town. He asks around and stumbles on his old friend. "It seems the wind has blown you back to the capital. How long have you been couped up? We should get some breakfast." As he breaks fast with his former traveling companion he asks after the matter of the Dragon Queen, "I was thinking of one of the stories you once told me. About Kraiula, queen of the dragons. I need to get a handle of the legends, if any of them are true? Knowledge of her seems sparce."

Psalm smiles and enjoys the telling a lover of stories he can't help himself. He takes notes and writes down the key details. "That is the legend I was thinking of. I wonder was this Kraiula a loyal servant of Desmos, if such evil things can stand loyalty." He thinks a moment. "So this queen if legend has it was the 'Mother of Dragons.'TM Was she a weapon of the Dark Elves or their queen? I mean did the or do the Drow worship this dragon queen?" He asks as part of his curiosity that Maldeth well remembers.

"I wonder if I wanted to find an account of these legends I would need access to the Arcane Order's Library. I don't suppose those from your Order could arrange such a thing?"

"Hmmmmm. I mean, you're asking hypothetical questions about mythical creatures and demigods, you realize that right? I'd guess, if that legend had any basis in fact, that there was at the very least some kind of connection between the Drow and Kraiula. They rode her dragons into battle after all, right?" Maldeth says. Then when Psalm asks about gaining access to the Arcane Order's library, her furrows his brow and says, "If I went with you, I could get you into the bottom two floors, and that'd be it. I'm not even allowed anywhere but those two floors! It's like they think the world's going to end if anybody reads the wrong book. Yeesh! If they ever got out of their study rooms and out into the wilderness they'd see there are a lot more dangerous things than books in the world. If you want me to take you, I will, but I can't today, I've got meetings with my superiors here soon, and it'll keep me busy the rest of the day. Maybe stop back later in the week, after I've received my new orders, I'll have a bit of down time before I have to head back out with a different squad."

Getting into upper floors is a specialty of Quint's. Just throwing that out there. He would have to know what to look for though, and who knows what kind of magical security the arcane order might have in place.

"Actually that would be great yes." Psalm smiles, "I'll buy us breakfast. I really appreciate this thank you. See you then."

Psalm wanders the streets in though before returning to the Pegasus. He ponders over his limited experience with the underdark and dark elves.

Silly Question looking at the "secret" that I know from my background feature. Does Psalm remember any details which might connect to Kraiula.

Sorry for the delay, I'll throw this out quickly before I head out later today. Just to start up Nikeisha's line of investigation.

It wasn't too hard to find out who was the employ of a former senator charged with treason. The problem was sorting through the people who hadn't known anything - the stable hands, the under butlers, the ones that would never be in a position to find out anything compromising, anything secret. Well, anything important. The gossip about what lady was sleeping with whose's maid and the like would flow through the staff without much problem, but that was easy to find out. Nobles always thought they were so discrete - like the chambermaid wouldn't notice a second person had been in a room.

The other problem was, of course, a lot of the staff that were close enough to their master - the steward, the housekeeper - were probably in a cell too. Not nearly as nice a cell, knowing how toffs worked - even a fallen one wouldn't rank being thrown in prison with the paupers until he was stripped of all titles, lands, ranks and cash as a warning to the others - but still not an easy place to get unnoticed.

So she looked for there assistants. The underbutlers, the chambermaids, the valets and the cooks. Anyone who was still free, but of a rank to hear things. Maybe the cook had been asked to stay late a few times, make and serve a private supper. Maybe the chambermaid had seen a letter they shouldn't have. So she hit up the city's social circles and asked who to talk to.

Persuasion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Ok, so I totally failed to advance the story with this chunk, but it was fun to write.

Good to see you too, Azuri. Quint says, affecting a tone of mocking indignation at his fellow thief's less-than-warm welcome.

Heavy, green-hued fingers thump down on Quint's shoulder, bristling with wiry hair. A low, gravelly voice from behind him intones, Finally ready to fsit at the grown-upfs' table? The 'F' sounds are accompanied by a fine spray of spittle. Ogram's thick, protruding tusks made it impossible for his mouth to close completely when he spoke, and Quint makes a point of keeping his back to the big half-orc as long as he is standing so close, lest any of it land on his face.

A third familiar voice calls down from a makeshift sniper's nest in the window of the abandoned building Quint was skulking across the top of just minutes earlier, speaking far too loudly for the clandestine activity the group is engaged in. Who is it? I can't see!

Azuri grips the rim of the barrel and pulls herself to her feet, dusting off her dress. As she straightens, the hem lifts to reveal long boots of brown leather. With their elevated heels, the slender demi-elf stands just shy of six feet tall. It's just Quint.

Oh. Hey Quint!

The girl lets out a sign of resignation, then looks up to the darkened window. Come on down, Rook.

As rook climbs out though the window and hangs from the sill, then drops, somewhat less than gracefully, to the alley floor, Azuri shrugs off the remaining strap of her costume, letting it slip down to reveal the strapless leather "armor" beneath. It is, in fact, little more than a tightly-laced corset of tough leather that covers nothing above her armpits. She bundles the dress and wig, then produces a matching leather half-jacket and shrugs it on to complete her typical ensemble.

Rook, the archer, walks over to join the others surrounding Quint. He dresses all in black. Black boots, black gloves, black form-fitting breeches and a slightly looser black shirt, even his long, straight hair is raven-colored. A black scarf covers most of his face, and a flowing black cloak completes the ridiculous Stygian getup. Only his dark brown eyes and part of his pasty forehead show, until he pulls down his mask to reveal the rest of his acne-riddled face. What's up, Quint? Did you finally decide you're ready to sit at the grown-ups' table?

I already afsked him if he wanted to fsit at the grown-upfs' table! Ogram's voice booms, again misting Quint's neck.

Well, what did he say?

He hafsn't anfswered.

Well, what's it gonna be, Quint?

Yeah, what'fs it gonna be?

Azuri lowers her head and presses her forehead into her palm. Will you two please shut up?

While the others head out in multiple directions throughout the course of the week. Hack stays close to the Pegasus. He takes his meals there, and he drinks the mead from the highlands every evening. By the third day of the week, he approached his fellow Highlander, Thjorvar.

Well, my friend, can ya tell me of any other Highland groups or gatherings in town? I have been known to join a bare-knucle fight for sport. Saxwyn not only heaps praise upon those who kill in battle, but those who can defeat an enemy with their fists.

Thjorvar points him in the direction of the fighting pits in the city, and Hack spends some time participating and joining the ranks of the fighters. He attempts to gather as much information as he can from those who operate the pits by fighting well as a good draw for the gamblers.

Hack will also attempt to intimidate one of th ed higher ups in the pit fighting ring to disclose any information relative to what the underworld stakeholders ed is in the fight against the Republic.

Mended, does Luna actually know the name of the head of the 'Order of the Open Fist? Is there any chance Luna may have met her at some time in the past during her 90 years of study at her own monastery? Does Luna know for how long has this person (Ascendant Xaneak) been the head of this monastery? Have there been recent changes in their leadership, whether of persons, or of policies? *** These are the type of things Luna wants to try to learn first. Then if this 'Ascendant Xaneak' seems legit, and has not been a part of some recent 'take-over' or sudden unexpected change in the regime for unusual causes (mysterious sudden death of previous leader or some such) or anything like that (vague enough?), Luna will seek to request an audience with her. If there seems to be any hesitation or difficulty to obtain an audience, Luna will use her full title "Bellaluna Liaqirelle, Daughter of Amra Liaqirelle, Daughter of Malgath Liaqirelle, Daughter of Aldetárianadur Denoniel Liaqirelle, Daughter of the Great Aldellion, Daughter of the even Greater Amren Himself and also sixth niece to the current Aldetárianadur Tyrandirul." since she believes that would most certainly entitle her to an urgent audience with this 'human' leader. Of course she understands enough about politics that she knows she will have to at last 'pretend' to treat her as an equal for the duration of the meeting.

If she is granted an audience, then Luna will ask her her opinion of the current situation in the Republic, and what the Fist plans to do about it if she may know. She will also ask if she is aware of any new cults using some sort of a five pointed star as their symbol (without getting too specific about the symbol, unless it seems to become necessary).

Insight: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Investigation: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Perception?: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Using my inspiration for Investigation: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22 YAY! Nice! Woohoo!

I really have no idea what else to roll if anything? Perhaps she would like some sort of demonstration of my abilities as a monk? If so what should I roll?

Luna asks the initiate if they have ever seen any of the rice itself be removed or taken aside in any fashion, or had there ever been anything unusual found inside the sacks of rice?

*****************************************************

The following may get modified, depending on the answer to the previous. Complicated enough? :-)

After Luna learns her ... very strange tidbit of information, when she next meets with her companions she shall tell them all, "The only thing I have found out is a very strange bit of information and I cannot currently see how it would be related to our investigation in any way. What I found is that all rice coming in to the local monastery for 'The Order of the Fist' is being opened and searched through, but not just as if searched for items hidden in the grain, but sometimes rather searched grain by grain, as if each individual grain might be something to investigate? Are they maybe somehow sending messages on the rice? Maybe some sort of mark or something on the rice?

Thanking the woman and paying the first part of her gold happily, Nikeisha considered the implications. She'd suspect that the problems here had gone deeper than simply the Senate and one Order. This was going to be a huge problem. They needed to identify the worst of the problem and give it there own friendly Senator, so she could rally troops and take them out all at once.

And that meant finding out more about the problem. Once again, she focused on the poor of the population. The Arcane Order wouldn't have magi cooking and sweeping - or filling the wine glasses of important guests. If she could find someone who knew why a corrupt senator was visiting, then great - but what she wanted to know to start with was who, exactly, Enwelros was speaking with, how many, and there ranks.

Persuasion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Psalm spends what time he can pouring over the books and enjoying the time of study. He hopes to see evidence of the same iconography that the senator showed them.

is there a known symbol of the dragon queen? is it similar to what we have seen?

He thanks Maldeth as they make their way out.

Quint tells the Shepherds that he's working on a big score, one with a senator as the payday, and that he may need a crew to help him finish it (and to split the payout). Recent events have complicated this job, though, and in the course of it, he's come across some disturbing information about a cult using two symbols: a four-pointed star with a long tail and a multicolored one with five curved points. This cult might be a problem for the job, and he needs to find out what he can about them before he can proceed.

All of this is true, of course, but none of it means exactly what he knows his fellow thieves will assume it does.

Azuri tells Quint about rumors she's heard of drow in disguise who have been infiltrating every part of the city. She also says that she's nicked a few silver necklaces bearing one or both of the symbols he mentioned, and that those behind them seem to be using more subtle means than hired killers to achieve their goals.

Quint gets the feeling that Azuri knows more than she is telling him, but he can't risk being more honest about what he needs to know and why. Instead, he resolves to follow them to gather some more information. Which one to follow though?

Azuri is the brains of their crew. She undoubtedly came up with the alley ambush plan they were using when he found them. Best to stay clear of her.

Ogram is the group's muscle. He's a huge brute who spits when he speaks, but he's surprisingly agile. The half-orc had managed to get behind Quint, and nearly went unnoticed while he was approaching Azuri. Underestimating Ogram and thinking him a simple brute could easily be someone's last mistake.

Rook, on the other hand, has no sense of subtlety. Quint knows that the bespeckled teenager's skill with a bow puts his own to shame, but Rook can't help showing off. He thinks his pitch-black garb makes him look like a shadow in the night, but it only serves to set him apart. Quint learned long ago that in the city, it is far more important to go unnoticed than unseen. Besides, for those blessed with darkvision like Quint, the cute black actually makes it easier to spot him, even at night.

So, Quint begins to track Rook's movements. He follows him back to the group's safe house, and is surprised to find the crew holing up not in some rundown tenement in district four, but at a huge estate in the city's eighth, complete with guards on the walls. More than once during the week, he even spots Rook himself standing watch among the guards, looking down from the walls with his longbow at the ready.

Although Quint has always thought of the Shepherds as just Azuri, Ogram and Rook, he knew that they were part of some larger organization. He had no idea that it was this big, though. He needs to learn more about what's going on here.

Quint goes to the orphanage and spreads some silver around, buying himself enough spies to keep track of who comes and goes from the compound at all hours, including watching the sides that don't appear to have any doors or windows for the possibility of secret entrances. He also offers a whole gold piece to anyone who can discover the identity of a dark elf in disguise, or anyone with a tattoo or wearing jewelry with one of the symbols the senator showed him (though he warns them that they will only receive their gold once he is able to prove their claim, to avoid false reports).

I figure you can get an orphan on the street to sit around watching a building for a while for one silver, plus the opportunity to earn a whole gold piece... Call it one silver for one shift each day for a week?

Orphans' Investigation: 1d20 ⇒ 19
Orphans' Insight: 1d20 ⇒ 2
Orphans' Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 17

At the group's next meeting, Jun says "Well, I haven't had a lot of luck investigating the group's financing, but I did come across something weird: there is a shipping company shipping basically Dwarven ore and manufactured goods into the empire; what is odd is that this group is run almost entirely by people of mixed Elvish heritage."

"With that being said, I didn't expect to find much on first pass, but I do plan on taking a run at the company that is moving said goods, which has been around about a decade, and is named Diamond Imports."

When Luna shares her information about the rice, Jun says "Did you happen to hear which shipping company is contracted to deliver rice to this monastery? If not, I can try and find out."

"Finally, and I offer this mostly jokingly, but I discovered that this is a really good time to get into the mercantile trade. There are a few companies that are one to two moves away from tsumero - that is, an easy win - that we could "invest" in to effectively take over."

"Hrrmm… now that I say that, I think that might be something to go on my list as well."

Also, it's about time for this to finally happen...

One night, Quint steals off through his window, out the gates, and into the woods, with a small brass brazier concealed within the folds of his cloak. He borrowed it from Boddynuck's things before the other gnome's sudden departure, and though he had been planning to return it, the opportunity has long since passed. It hasn't rained here in some time, and the ground is littered with sticks and dried leaves.

Before long, he finds himself in a small clearing, where the burnt and charred stump of a large tree stands alone. Scorched, jagged lines work their way along its roots. Whatever set fire to the tree also killed the grass around it, most of which has already dried, crumbled, and blown away. All around the edges, new growth is only beginning to crawl exploratorily into the space and once again take root.

This looks like as good a place as any, he thinks to himself. If I mess it up, at least I can't do any more damage. Quint approaches the tree. Once no doubt majestic, it now stands no taller than his own slender frame.

He fumbles with the brazier for a moment as the smooth metal slips against the fabric of his cloak. He loses his grip, and it falls to the ground with a thud that leaves it reverberating to the tone of a middle C. It's not terribly loud, but in the still, silent night, the noise is almost deafening. Quint curses silently and ducks down to place a hand on the ringing brass to muffle it, then looks around guiltily to make sure there is no one around to hear.

This is stupid, I should just go back, he thinks, but his hands have already begun to tear up the herbs and sprinkle them into the brazier's gaping mouth. He adds the charcoal and incense, then he begins to strike his flint. There's a cantrip he could use for this part, but he's too flustered to recall the words. As the sparks catch, white smoke immediately begins to rise up, working its way into his nostrils and making him cough. No going back now.

He sits, legs crossed, facing the brazier and the and the blackened stump beyond. He whispers the incantation he's been practicing while the others were asleep, over and over again, in the light of the small fire.

An hour passes, then two. He hears no sign of movement. Shouldn't it be here by now? Has he gotten the ritual wrong? He continues for another hour, or is it more? The fire is barely embers now, and the black of the night's sky has begun to fade, ever so slightly, into the deep indigo that forewarns of the coming sun. In resignation, he stands and kicks over the brazier, spilling its contents onto the ground. The embers don't even flare up, and he stamps out what little is left of them.

In his head, he hears a familiar, mocking laugh. Giving up so soon? The sultry, mocking tone pulls him into a memory. The voice is that of Aelyra, an older girl who used to tease him endlessly when he was younger.

For a moment, he is back on the streets of Rydwyrna. His only arrow is stuck in a wall in the alley behind a pawn shop. It's too high for him to reach, and he is lying in a heap on the ground. His thumb is bleeding and his head is bruised after falling while trying to climb a rotted crate to retrieve it. He missed the pigeon. His makeshift bowstring made of twine slipped from his grasp, slicing a gash across his thumb. The worst part is that Aelyra saw the whole thing. She'll be taunting him for weeks after that display. The lanky human girl is easily tall enough to pluck the arrow from where it sticks, but she seems to enjoy watching him squirm.

The voice echoes in his head again. I thought you'd be chanting over that pot until midday. Wait, Aelyra never said that. He realizes that the voice is not Aelyra's at all, but the tone of ridicule with just a hint of flirtation is uncanny.

Quint swivels his head to look around as the cruel laugh repeats. Who's there? he asks, looking around.

Who, indeed. The voice simultaneously sounds like it is coming from right in front of him and from within his own head. He turns back toward it, and something is different about the burnt wood. Twin black orbs glisten from inside a heart-shaped knot, where the flame failed to reach a bit of pale-brown wood. The laugh continues as the knot cocks to one side.

No, this is not wood at all. There is something else there. It's a bird. It's back is to him, and its head has swiveled backwards to look in his direction. How long has it been there? There is no way of knowing; it may have been there when he walked up to the tree. It could have been there before the tree. Sitting. Waiting. It resembles an owl, but its slim body and smooth feathers make it look like it's been plucked. Or rather, it looks like what Quint ASSUMES a plucked owl would look like. It's black coloration with hints of brown makes it look like it was carved from wood, then burned along with the rest of the tree.

From his pocket, he can feel Nibbles peeking out, then burying himself as deep as possible to hide from the bird of prey. The owl continues to stare, as the mocking laugh continues to echo in Quint's mind. Is this what I was sent? The bird's wings spread, and before Quint knows it, its razor-sharp beak is careening toward his head. He ducks to the ground, scraping his bow up from where he laid it on the ground countless hours ago. In a flash, an arrow is in his hand, and he has spun around, searching for the bird. It has vanished, and the night is still, as if it had never been there.

Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just an hallucination brought on by smoke inhalation and lack of sleep. That's what Quint tells himself, anyway. He bends and reaches for the overturned brazier, touching it experimentally. Not even warm. He taps it against the ground, then wipes out the last bits of ash with a corner of his cloak. Pulling the cloak tight against the pre-morning chill, he slinks back to return to his bed before anyone notices that he's missing.

Quint spent 10gp to cast Find Familiar, gaining a melanistic barn owl (fey creature) as a familiar, but this familiar is not the typical obedient pet...

---

During the days that follow, Quint spends a lot of time looking around the compound from rooftops in the area, trying to discover a way in, and taking note of the guards and the layout. He often dozes off in the evening, concealed in a crook in a nearby roof, only returning through his window after he wakes in the morning.

He watches the compound so much that at night, he sees it in his dreams. The odd thing is that though he watches during the day, his dreams are of what the compound looks like at night. Sometimes, it even feels like he's flying over the estate or perching on its roof, seeing parts of it and overhearing conversations that he could never get a view of from outside.

Quint is unconsciously using his familiar's senses during the night, while it sleeps dismissed to a pocket dimension during the day. The owl has advantage on hearing- and sight-based perception checks. The owl just looks like a regular owl to anyone who might spot it, of course, but it avoids Rook, just in case he gets it in his head to take a pot-shot at it.

Quint Stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Quint Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Owl Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Owl Perception advantage: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

When Hack has an opportunity to speak to the group as a whole at the Black Pegasus, they all easily notice the bruising and cuts on his face and hands.

I been spendin' time in the fighting pits of late. I been winnin' my share too. So much that I got introduced to a money man, Brantar Hambuc-Ham, who would pay good money for my protection on occasion. I noticed he had a tattoo in the skin between his thumb and forefinger, a blue star, with four points, and a long tail. Any of ya know what that means? I could go back and offer my services, and even all of ours as a group of ya think this symbol is a good guy to have on our side in this fightin'?

Psalm laughs hysterically at Hack, leaning back his chair. "Seriously." He looks at the others, tears on his cheeks, he turns back to Hack, "Leave it to a man of the North to crack skulls and find gold." He shows Hack the papers Senator Akassa gave them regarding the cult. "4 points with a long tail." He puts a finger on each point and traces the tail. [b]"Like this?"{/b]

Just like that! So, how do we play this?

"Good work Hack!" says Jun as he slaps the man on the back.

"Do you think he suspects you in any way?"

Considerin' I didna' even connect the dots, I'm sure he doesn't. He is thinkin' I may return to offer protection services. I could join his crew, if ya need a spy?

Has anyone else heard rumors about drow?

Quint listens to the others, collecting data and working on various different schemes, but won't volunteer details of his own line of investigation into the Shepherds yet, unless someone specifically asks, or he sees some useful intersection between his line of investigation and one that someone else mentions.

"Okay, sounds like we have the offing of a plan; for this next week, I'll look into the company delivering rice to the monastery, Hack will infiltrate the fight promoter's group, and...Drow, did you say?" asks Jun when Quint brings them up. "In what context did Drow come up in your investigations?"

They're disguising themselves, presumably as elves... maybe half-elves. Forging documents and concealing weapons and the like. Not their normal raiding tactics.

Mended, though the information that Quint got was all in one paragraph, I don't see anything else there suggesting a link between the drow and the people the shepherds stole the silver cult necklaces from. Actually, it's not even clear why they even mentioned the rumors about drow in response to Quint's question about the symbols...

Can I get a little clarification as to what they were trying to tell Quint?

I'm also a little confused about why the exchange made Quint feel the need to follow Rook back to their safe house. What, exactly, is he hoping to learn by getting in there? Just feeling a little lost as to what my character's motivations are...

I am on it!

When Quint mentions Drow Luna does a sudden double-take and raising her eyebrows, "DROW! Why do you bring up such a myth as that? There is no such thing! Any lead you found that pointed you in that direction is obviously incorrect. But sure, you go ahead and pursue that. --- As to this dwarven company using Elves of mixed heritage you say? Then perhaps another Elf of mixed heritage should try to infiltrate them? --- And yes, we should certainly look into whoever is delivering the rice to the monastery. --- and yes, Hack should certainly hire on as protection, but by himself at this point. If we feel more are needed there later he could serve as a point of contact and refer us."

As to the Drow, to be clear, that is Luna's upbringing speaking. I myself, am seeing an obvious connection to a company using 'elves' of mixed heritage and Drow using half-drow to pass as 'surface' elves. Their definitely seems to be a connection there. I think infiltrating them could be quite valuable, but since Luna is a high-elf, it would be nearly impossible for her to pass herself off as of 'mixed' heritage.

"It makes a certain logical sense that a cult of the dragon queen might have connection to the drow who have historical connection to Kraiula." He thinks a moment. [b]"I encountered drow once. Not directly I almost stumbled into a parlay with an orc raiding band and drow. The meeting was ominous of feeling but not one to understand the dark speech its substance is lost."

"Highness, just because you fervently hope that something doesn't exist, and you spend your life being told by others that something doesn't exist, doesn't mean it's not real. If you are to lead your people one day, I would humbly submit that you dismiss nothing out of hand. You'll be less likely to miss something that way."

Turning back to Quint, Jun says "If I had to guess, I'd say that the rumors of Drow coorelate to stories I have heard that I mentioned about the half-elven trading company. I think that we should work together to see if they are related or not. We should also add Drow to the list of things to investigate."

Was Psalm going to share what he heard about drow?