You all met in a tavern, like a scene from one of the copper dreadfuls set in Venture Town that have become so popular. Whether through luck, destiny or narrative convenience you found that your adventuring party near formed itself. You still lack a name, and are unregistered with any of the guilds, but such ritual and ceremony are unnecessary. None of the brave heroes who meet up in a bar and decide to have adventures in the books ever wait in line to fill out forms. No, they dive straight into adventure.
Not too far from the tavern, a notorious adventurer hangout, is the diving board of adventure: the Gilded Hole. The crack in the Earth 200 ft. deep has many names, but all of them mildly vulgar. Standing between you all and adventure is a protective ring of merchants, traders, solicitors and pick pockets all looking for your money.
You work your way through the crowd and come to the edge of Dead Hero's Drop. The moment of truth has arrived. It's time to make your fortunes or break your necks.
Garrett will sign the document without comment.
Vek likewise.
Vek is once more humbled by the offer of help from her new companions. She is unused to pledges of aid from vishata ("foreigners"; a motley group) - in Amari she would be written up as a pariah if such mingling became common knowledge, even though she was merely tan-noble ("new noble" through intermarriage, often morganatic).)
It seemed she was sinking further and further from her hope of mastery and a fulfillment of her father's path. She would make him proud, though he be sitting in the Pale Lands, watched over by the Dreaming Sisters.
It did appear however that the group was singularly poorly placed to attempt a thorough investigation. Still, one must attempt even the impossible.
"Does anybody have any knowledge of this accursed town? Malbrighka - do you have any contacts in the courtesan-house? Any means of finding a missing person or a gang of thieves?"
Having stamped the documents, Malbrighka puts away her items. She gives a small smile to Vekaessena as she stands. ”I will enquire. What part of the city did the theft occur? That may help me narrow down where to start my search. Here, buy some rations.” She leans closer placing three coins on the table in front of the woman and whispers ”If they frequent a certain establishment for the womanly comfort, finding them will be easier.”
The half-orc takes a step from the table and then laughs, ”Ah! Where shall we meet again? Here, the same time tomorrow?”
"How about we meet back here this evening instead. Hopefully one of us will have something by then and we can team up."
A roll for 4 hours spent attempting to track Vekaessena's thieves down or find info on Farrin's friend.
"The Darque Veil is located in this very quarter, and it seems to cater to the more foreign foreigners if you take my meaning. Outlandish takes on a new meaning in Venture Town. My Linguistic skill served me well, but I was initially unaware of the Veil's more darker, less salubrious patrons. It would seem to be a dive, if somewhat colorful."
Vekaessena thanks Malbrighka for the offered coins with a warm smile.
"It is entirely possible any of the five might frequent a pleasure house."
clutching at straws here... ;)
”The Darque Veil. Hmmph. Until evening then,” the half orc says.
"Well, it was all I could afford at the time. Luckily I had paid in advance, though I shall have to acquire new lodgings three nights hence."
Vek offers Malbrighka a deep nod of thanks.
I didn’t mean to give offense,” Malbrighka says to Vekaessena, ”nor any disrespect to you. When I first arrived here, we stayed in a lean-to. A leaky one at that.”
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Having successfully filed the forms to start our LLC corporation and somehow talked the stampers to endorce him not just another time as a dwarf.. they fill up his entire identity papers with stamps now.
Feeling a bit dejected though Farrin slowly makes his way to where he was to meet the others. His teachers son deceased, no known children. What is he to do now.. Should he tell the others of the small fortune he wears or should he keep to himself? I wish there was anything on those brigands that robbed that Vekaessena he thinks.
Seeing the others already gathered he approaches and waves as he does so, a smile lighting his face. it must be good news he bears.
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"Well I have a couple things that I found out. First according to the records Darter's Son is dead with no known family. I could find nothing about the brigands that assaulted you Vekaessena. I am sorry. I did however find this for you."
Inside the sack you find an Agile breastplate made for a woman of a similar figure to yours. There are also 20 iron rations in the sack.
"I had a few things I was to deliver to Darter's Son. They were not mine earlier as I had to try to give them to him or his kids. I spent the whole lot get that sack, the food. AND more important than that. We all have 100% non-discriminative resurrection insurance incase stuff goes south while we are down there.. OF course if we have to do that, then we loose everything we had on ourselves if nobody survives."
Vekaessena appraises the agile breastplate for a long time, holding it up to the light, assessing the articulation of the plates accompanying the central torso plate, eyeing the bosses, leather straps and general feel of the armor.
"Ma..Farrin. I have never in my entire life received such an expensive, or wondrous gift. I shall wear this with immense pride, that an honorable being such as yourself saw fit to bestow it upon my person. You are a credit to your kith and kin." Vek bows low, tapping her open palm to her forehead, finger's pointing to the heavens.
Diplomacy check, gather information: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Venture Town is the kind of place where being too forthcoming with information can get your throat cut with a soul-eating knife. Malbrighka is unable to find anyone willing to talk to her about anything but the weather and the price of grog ("A full silver?! Greed drunk brigands is what they are! We should round up the barkeeps and hang them all!").
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Garret, however, takes a slightly... rougher approach to his information gathering that produces much more favorable results. It seems that even in a place like Venture Town Vekaessena's stolen equipment stood out as unusual. A group of thugs was making the usual rounds trying to unload some strange foreign stuff recently. The only place that might have taken them up on the offer would be Scabby's Buy House, a bric-a-brac shop that acts as the thinnest veneer of legitimacy for a low class fence.
Of course, you wouldn't be the first armed gang to attack Scabby's Buy House. You can expect the place to be well defended. You also don't have a contract with any of the watch-houses (and Scabby likely does) so if the fight spills into the streets things could get ugly fast.
Diplomacy check to gather info from traders re: fences/stolen goods: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Sense Motive for same: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Vekaessena is able to gather nothing but sales pitches and vague threats.
She gets the sense that people are afraid to talk to her, or at least about the topic of fences and stolen goods. Some criminal syndicate or other likely has eyes and ears in this part of town.
Diplomacy Check to one of the form-filers into helping me find out anything useful: 1d20 ⇒ 17
Farrin is able to cunningly convince one of the form-filers to actually file his forms properly. CJDR LLC is now a fully registered Adventuring Company and protected by what passes for a legal system in this gods forsaken pit.
Of course, that's just the courts. If you want police protection you'll need a watch-house contract. Killing anyone who messes with you is also a popular policing option in Venture Town.
Knowledge History to find any historical records locating my mentors son or possible children. I will search birth records/death/property tax payments/marrages/etc everything I can think of: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
After a very thorough and efficient search of all available records Farrin still turns up nothing. He wasn't born here and either still lives or didn't die in Venture Town either. Nor has he a recorded marriage. Venture Town has no taxes, and those few freelance tax collectors who say otherwise tend not to keep very detailed records.
Profession Librarian to find information that the History check does not help me out with.: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
These are just the public records. There are some very powerful groups in Venture Town who keep their own records of the comings and goings, many of whom have magical or even stranger means of information gathering. If you could get into the record hall of one of these great powers it's likely you could find a solid lead.
We all have 100% non-discriminative resurrection insurance incase stuff goes south while we are down there.
Farrin follows the directions of one of the criers to a dilapidated were-rat moon temple. All you can afford is the really cheap usurious stuff. It's 10 gp per day, lapses if you miss a payment, and only covers death by monster or traps specifically in the Gilded Hole. But if you die in the prescribed way while you have a contract in good standing you get raised for free.
After a busy night, you all meet up again the next morning at the same tavern, ready to compare notes.
"From what I understand Vek, the only place that the thieves might have sold you stuff to would be Scabby's Buy House, a bric-a-brac shop that acts as the thinnest veneer of legitimacy for a low class fence." Garrett frowns, "The place is probably well defended and while I wouldn't have had any problem with taking on the original thieves we'd be on morally shaky ground assaulting the fence. How attached are you to the equipment they took from you? If we earn some money we could probably buy it back for you."
Vek is amazed at the effort shown by her new companions. She only hopes she can repay them in some manner.
"Well, this new armor Farrin provided goes a long way to mollifying me. It isn't quite the work of my people, nor the style to which I am accustomed, and I am deeply cut by the loss of my heirloom. I say we try to buy it back later as you say Garrett... - we have few resources and little standing to attempt an armed invasion and what would essentially amount to theft. I can only hope that if my armor is there it will not move fast..."
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"I am pleased to announce that CJDR LLC is now a fully registered Adventuring Company and protected by what passes for a legal system in this gods forsaken pit of a city."
"Vek, this dwarf is sorry that he couldn't find any information at all about your thugs or for that matter my teachers son. I did however find this were-rat moon temple that they sold me some Insurance for us, not sure how many days worth it was, but if we run into any traps or monsters were ok. I did sign as Farrin, anyone that wants to take CJDR property is a monster, Druzak. I hope we don't need to see if that's worth the paper its written upon.
[rewind]
...in response to Garrett's suggestion:
"I am deeply cut by the loss of my heirloom, but it seems there is naught that we can do. I say we try to buy it back later as you say Garrett... - we have few resources and little standing to attempt an armed invasion and what would essentially amount to theft. I can only hope that if my armor is there it will not move fast..."
Vek turns to Farrin:
" Thank you for taking care of that Farrin. If you must find this person before we descend, let us find them! Otherwise, let us descend..."
Malbrighka arrives with curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Her backpack is full and her greataxe appears freshly sharpened. ”I wish I had better news, but I found nothing. I hope you had better results and didn’t spend time talking with cretins and dregs.”
"Well. It seems it is time. Let us then descend and find what awaits below?"
There is what you might describe as a ring of stalls, merchants and other hustlers around the entrance to the Gilded Hole. You push your way through the crowd. A few aggressive salesmen try to catch your eyes but you're all too jaded by this town to fall for it.
You come to Dead Hero's Drop, not so named due to the moral integrity of all the corpses at the bottom, and easily set your ropes. None of you has any problem with the long rope climb downward, although by the end your hands are raw and rope burned.
At the bottom, as advertised, as two adventurer-types who look like they died from a massive fall. One is a half-elf man, maybe an elf, wearing green wizard's robes. The other is a human woman wearing chainmail.
You find yourself on a filthy ancient dwarven street. The entire place stinks of death and caves. Mostly death.
All around you are different buildings from the dwarven slum. It looks like you were in a largely residential area with spotted storefronts, all seamlessly cut from the living rock. They all show centuries of wear and neglect.
The street stretches out before you in every direction. You can go where ever you like.
Garrett will ready his bow and take a careful look around, "This is a likely ambush site, although we're more likely to be attacked on the way back than on the way in."
Vekaessena begins to murmur an indistinct pick-some of various arcane, archaic and eldritch words. The faint sussurus of her meandering vocalizations is unsettling, yet somehow faniliar to each of you, as if the woman is otherwise describing the cellular composition of every mote of existence. Her eyes blazing, Vek's low voice grows hoarse, and an indescribably delicate wave of energy flows out from her, at the same time as a double-spiral pattern reminiscent of a shadowed waxing moon traces itself on her forehead.
Then nothing.
Then a rough and primitive voice interrupts the stillness.
"Greetings mistress. It is good to be back. Have we tracked down the thieves?"
The speaker is a monstrous, gangly apparition that appears to be a mix of bird and insect, but with long clawed arms and long legs. Taller than a man if it did not stand stooped, and with the same double spiral pattern emblazoned on its forehead, the creature notices each of you in turn.
"Forgive me. Greetings to you all. I am Tokh."
"Um... well met?"
Vek's eyes betray her derision of the creature.
"Do not be foolish. If we had I would have my khirt-hauberk. This is Garrett, Farrin and Malbrighka, our allies. Look to our safety now disan!"
Whatever the foreign word means it is clearly not a term of affection. Tokh cannot hide the hurt in his eyes as he merely nods his assent.
Vek peers angrily about, trying to discern anything in the gloom...
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Taking a deep breath Farrin looks more comfortable, more relaxed then you have ever seen him. He shrugs a couple times to adjust his backpack with sack of scroll cases inside. Letting out a deep sigh.
"This Dwarf has drempt about walking these streets again. the construction is flawless, even after all these years it still stands strong, neglected but not unfixable."
Farrin draws his beautiful double bladed battle axe kissing the hiltsone as he does so.
'A Durzak has returned. The destroyers will be avenged.' He says under his breath.
"Come Friends let keep our eyes peeled and blades ready.. who knows what beasties have taken up residence since my cousins left."
"What direction do you recommend, good dwarf?"
”Last time I was here, we had a map. More like scratchings on parchment. We went that way,” she says after getting her bearings. ”I recommend going this way,” the half-orc points in the opposite direction.
Garrett shrugs then grins, "This way it is.". He'll head off the direction Mal recommended.
Vek stares in undisguised wonder at the soaring buildings and wondrous architecture, wondering what this place looked like and felt like when a bustling trade centre.
Like my homelands before the fall...
She comes back to the present when Malbrighka speaks.
"Sounds like an eminently suitable plan".
With a cursory movement of her head she indicates for Tokh to precede her - they follow after Malbrighka and Garrett.
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Farrin would fall into the back line diagonal from garrett, so he can keep an eye on both of the lasses, that can probally handle themselves better then him in a scrap.. but they are women and in his his first youth (which lasted longer then the rest of party has been alive he thinks) gramps always said watch out for the womenfolk even if they can beat you to a pulp/
The half-orc holds her greataxe in a relaxed yet firm grip. ”Before we go too far, Farrin do you have any idea where this Winslow you are looking for is?”
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"I wish I did ma'am. His father was something of a magus and wizard and sorcerer and summoner.. that man Dartered was aptly named as dabbled in almost all forms of magic, darting here and there as his interest as caught by some new challenge or trick to learn. I would expect Winslow to show the same traits. I am like my father after all. Which means.. He could be anywhere down here. Perhaps the better districts bein a place ta start."