Walking into the establishment, Elise takes a deep breath as though she belongs here. "Lovely establishment." Walking up to a painting, Caladwhen marvels at the artisan's ability. Speaking aloud to her brother, she adds "The artist has a way with the canvas. See how he..." suddenly trailing off, Caladwhen blushes and changes the subject "Nevermind."
Heading to the bar, Caladwhen picks out the most likely person to own the establishment after careful observation. Approaching him, she smiles broadly with a quick curtsy, and asks politely "Beggin' your pardon m'lord, but are you mister Vernon? I saw your sign, and was wondering if I could perhaps find some work here?
Sindran, after some asking around, heads to Templeton Rise for trade . . . and to see if anything of interest in the temple remains there.
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These folks could be a connection to acquire more specialized equipment.
"Greetings," Grima says, grey eyes piercing from the shadows of black hood. "I'm looking for some . . . specialized equipment, and you look like fellows who know an opportunity when they see one."
Talon feels the first dagger sting into him, then shifts so the second one bounces off his armor. Well, that backfired he allows the electricity in his body to flow into his sword, swinging it at the man in front of him
Attack
Concentration Check
Damage
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Talon, they did not see that coming.
The mook who stabbed you is instantly reduced to ashes - he doesn't even get to scream.
The guy behind you drops his rusty knife and runs into a nearby alleyway in panic, wailing something about demons while he splotches along in the murky surroundings.
From a small distance, you hear someone snicker.
"heh. heh. heh. Not bad, for a new kid."
A figure is leaning against the one significant building in the area, casually cleaning his nails with an ornate dagger. His is a deep, rich voice; immediately likeable, dripping with natural leadership. "Ya know - I could have use for someone like you on the busy weekend nights. Tell you what, kid - you're obviously new in town; you looking for work?" He quickly lifts his chin in question - but it's clear he only expects one answer.
Talon sees the nearly obnoxious confidence, but lets it slide since he really was here looking for work. Perhaps the man is just that perceptive. Talon watches the living man continue to run and sheaths his sword, hearing it whisper in his mind it's pleasure at punishing lawbreakers. "New to the area, not to fighting or thievery" Talon can't help but grin; he likes working with somebody who's good at talking to people. He was always so bloody awful at it "Work sounds great, especially the weekend kind. However, I have a request and a question" he pauses "I never work for somebody who I don't know. My name is Blane Slyn" he says, offering a hand
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The green man smiles. some more.
Good! Then you and I shall get along great. You'll only have to throw people you won't want to know out of my place there."
He points at Drownington's Manor - the only permanent structure in all of Drownington - making it obvious you're dealing with what passes for a mayor here.
"one gold per night, two if there was trouble and three if you deal with it...cleanly"
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Sindran has made a connection to a guild of smugglers; although they call themselves 'brothers who acquire specialty equipment' or 'BASE', in short.
Through the harbor, they connect to the dark markets of Absalom, Katapesh and other nearby cities. Although they charge a 15% fee (25% for exceptional requests), they are capable of arranging items that most other sources would... frown upon.
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"Beggin' your pardon m'lord, but are you mister Vernon? I saw your sign, and was wondering if I could perhaps find some work here?
Cala's inquiry is met with a smile and a reasonable offer. You and your brother can stay in a tiny room in the servants quarters and earn 15s a day. Bonuses for working extra long / hard.
Teralye finds a room at an inn near the Canton's Canter, but visits to hear Bianca deVallya's performance.
Realizing what the bard is truly doing, he retrieves his trident, making it appear as if its coming out of his sleeve, and offers it for her performance.
"Excellent." Grima claps his hands. "Why don't you show me where we can conduct business at our leisure?"
Talon suddenly starts chuckling, then nudges his boot in the pile of ash on the ground "A little sweeping and I think that's fairly clean" he takes a moment to look at the manor, then glances back at him, giving an approving nod "Ah so you are Lord Drowington. T'is truly a pleasure. Well I believe I shall see you this weekend. Should I dress any way in particular?"
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Realizing what the bard is truly doing, he retrieves his trident, making it appear as if its coming out of his sleeve, and offers it for her performance.
When you produce the trident, her pretty eyes open v-e-e-e-ry wide. She is unable to hide her surprise and stutters "oh! ah...eh...sir, what a big tool you have thatistosay I usually only do tools ohwhatamisaying" she shakes her head, regaining her composure and presenting you the best smile in the world. "Sir, I'm sorry, that's simply a bit too much for me to handle right now. You see, I was expecting shovels, axes, and knives; not an item of such quality as your harpoon. That simply requires more effort - and " grinning, she adds "it doesn't look very interesting on stage. But I'll be happy to enchant your instrument say two days from now? Let's discuss the details over a glass of wine later, hmm...? Now! Does anyone have a more dull item that you might wish to be dull nevermore?"
The next evening, after your business in town is completed you meet again with Tiadora near Farhold's bustling docks. She is bedecked brilliantly in all white, looking like a travelling noble on the way to her wedding. She escorts you to the nicest part of town, the gently sloping hill called Calliver's Green. This is a gated community, and she approaches the guard confidently.
" is epxecting us," is all she says.
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There are only six manors in this neighbourhood and Tiadora leads you to what is, arguable, the most impressive and definitely the most opulent of them all. The front door is secured by two guards wearing armor and livery. The guards are polite, but firmly insistent that weapons must be collected. "No stranger may go before the Baron so armed."
However they do not search you - only confiscating your primary armaments.
At the door, you are greeted by a very formal butler and attended by a small squadron of servants who offer you brandy and hors d'oeuvres. The brandy is sublime, and the appetizers are a selection of tasty little beef skewers and cruncy, spicy crayfish puffs. Finally, after a fashionable delay, the baron makes his appearance.
Talon shakes his head "This isn't a weapon you want to touch"
Talon takes a moment, but in the end he likes how the guard acknowledges the threat of his weapon and puts it in the chest
Oret ignores the servants and their proffered comestibles, looking for all the world like he would like nothing better than to be elsewhere.
Grima peeks at the list from the corner of his eyes, barely able to make out the words. He gives the guard a smirk when they pass by.
At the front door, Grima drops his brand into the chest. "Don't lose that."
Inside, he inspects the offerings, presumably for its quality, before partaking in them. He slyly attempts to engage the servants in small talk in a subtle attempt to gauge the baron's disposition.
Aerent appears as himself, in a stylish black suit with immaculately shined black riding boots. Perfectly folded leather gloves are tucked into his belt, which also supports a sword hanging by his side. His hair is slicked back and up into two points which might seem to resemble horns to certain observers.
When challenged by the guard at the Baron's residence, Aerent responds in a neutral tone, "Sir, as you no doubt know, retaining a blade at one's side is perfectly acceptable in polite company. To require the forfeiture of all weapons could be taken as a grave insult to one's honor and lineage. Surely you don't mean to imply that the Baron's home is anything less than hospitable for his guests?"
Once past the guards, Aerent tries everything at least once, but tries to maintain a neutral demeanor. When the Baron arrives, Aerent tries to get a read on the man.
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He slyly attempts to engage the servants in small talk in a subtle attempt to gauge the baron's disposition.
They do not take your bait and politely tell you they are not supposed to idly chat to the guests.
looking for all the world like he would like nothing better than to be elsewhere
The staff try their best to cheer you up. They're good.
Aerent tries to get a read on the man.
The Baron is a conflicted man. On one hand, he hates the Sarenraeans and the current rulers, the House of Darius. He was too young to fight when his father, Baron Zaedor Vandermir and his distant cousin, King Jaraad of Barca were both slain at the Battle of Tamberlyn. When the Victor came to power he treated the House of Vandermir fairly allowing the new
baron to keep his holdings if he would only renounce the worship of Asmodeus and swear fealty to the new king.
A humiliated young Arkov had no choice but to do both. Now, the Victor is in his grave and still the Baron’s thirst for vengeance remains unsated.
But the Baron also lived through the Asmodean purges of Markadian IV, the Zealous. He saw many of his fellows stripped of title and fortune and burned at the stake. The Baron was clever enough to avoid their fate and keep his fortune, his station and his life. He knows all too well the cost of associating with Cardinal Thorne and his ilk.
Once he would have never dreamed of doing anything overt against Andoran - But the situation has changed in recent days : With the breaking of the Watch Wall, the current regime is weaker that it has been since the Victor first came to power.
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Grima notes to himself on how well-trained the servants are. This improves his opinion of the man a notch.
When the man himself arrives, Grima turns to face him with a polite smile. Sindran's disguise wears his customary dark robes, but here it's more than clear that despite being able to withstand street use and being of a subtler style, they are nonetheless finery and suit the occasion.
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a majordomo comes in from a side door just as the Baron is making his grand entrance. "My ladies and gentlemen - I present to you: the son of Baron Zaedor Vandermir, cousin to the king Jaraad of Barca, last in the line of Mir. My lord, and tonight, your host - sir Baron. Arkov. Vandermir."
But - perhaps it could be helpful to your cause leave his self-centered illusion intact...
The baron's picture seems to have dropped out of my earlier post...
Tiadora just barely waits for the baron's introduction - had she spoken a hair earlier it would've been rude, but she has mastered impatience to perfection.
She introduces you all; Aerent first, mentioning his close relation to Furcas as an honorary title; then Sindran - quickly followed by Talon and Oret who are almost skipped over, since their merit to hell is yet to be proven.
Then, frowning for a fraction of an instant as if wondering that four did not seem to be the correct count, she continues (a single breath too late to be considered the same sentence) :
"aaand the lady Caladwhen of Aldimae, "
Whispering quickly, but loud enough to be heard by everyone, she adds injury to insult: "Seldon and Tessara's daughter - dearest you may recall that ...awkward incident with the drow some time ago?" waving away the brutal slaughter of her parents as a mere footnote in the history of elvenkind.
Sense Motive
Talon arcs an eyebrow at Tiadora Never let your personal relations into your work He otherwise remains quiet, seeming very much the strong and silent type
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Now that the...pleasantries have been exchanged, the majordomo leads you all into the lush dining room.
Armored guards stand at each corner of the room, obviously ready to face opposition - but they subtly blend in nicely with the decor, almost appearing like displayed suits of armor.
Hunting trophies are hung on the walls, which have stylish, intricate patterns in gold on red or black. In the fireplace, a quietly rumbling fire explains why the room is so comfortably warm.
As you take your prearranged seats at the huge wooden table with its unique, almost blood-red hue, an attractive servant approaches and quietly and very politely introduces him-or herself to you, asking you politely if you'd prefer someone else to serve you that evening before taking your order for drinks.
When the baron enters, he opens a hidden panel on the fireplace, revealing a pentagram in the chimney that beautifully catches the light from below. Then, he invites those of you who are not yet seated to do so:
"Please, why don't you sit down."
Politics, however, prevent him from being frank, for now.
Sindran observes the practiced entrance, the Baron's clothing and his general manner. Once in the dining room, his eyes flicker to the guards before spending a brief calculating glance at the servant before him. He accepts the servant's offer, strangely ordering a glass of one of the lighter, fruitier wines.
"Of course," Sindran says, avoiding agreeing to follow a command by stating that his sitting down is a fact. He smiles with a full set of teeth, relaxing into the offered chair. He nods to the Baron and speaks calmly, looking at the man in the eye just long enough to be polite. "A pleasure to meet you, Baron Arkov Vandermir. Your staff have been very accommodating and your dwelling exquisite. I particularly like what you've done with the fireplace." He gives a small gesture towards the fire and the pentagram.
The half-orc opens with small talk and a patient demeanor, a slight jab at the Baron's impatience to see how he'd react.
Aerent waves away the servant with a request for red wine. At the Baron's invitation, he seats himself at the opposite side of the table.
He waits until Sindran finishes his word games before chiming in, "Yes, we thank you for seeing us, My Lord. We know your time, and privacy, is valuable. Our mutual associate thought you might be able to help us in our mission."
"As you are no doubt aware, the days of this monarchy are numbered. When it falls, brave men must be prepared to step forward into the chaos to bring law and order back to the realm. Men who have... the proper heritage... would certainly be easier to support than those who have less noble upbringing."
Looking around and gesturing to his surroundings, Aerent continues, "Given your current status, despite the change in management, patience must be one of your virtues. The ability to remain idle, but prepared, while events play themselves out often leads to opportunities down the road, wouldn't you agree?"
Sipping his wine, Aerent smiles, "We are the heralds of that opportunity."
"Keeping that in mind, would you happen to know anything about the Horn of Abaddon, its former occupants, The Sons of the Pale Horseman", or the daemon Vetra-Kali Eats-the-Eyes?"
"And we're also interested in learning about an elven ranger named Aiden Kael. He was familiar with the Caer Bryr, and his recent disappearance is ... troubling."
Sense Motive
Talon asks for a water, sitting next to the others and glancing around. The only thing he says during the entire exchange is "Impressive fireplace" upon its' reveal. However he's paying attention to everything that's going on, his typical pose of his chin resting on his folded hands. He gauges the Baron's response to the others before speaking
I hope we get to kill him after all of this is done. This self-centered posturing is part of the reason I began this endeavor, after all... Still, Oret remains silent through this exchange, hoping to let the others speak for him and avoid any social missteps.
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The main course is served (an exquisit collection of fish specialties and spiced rice) and the servants are dismissed. The baron quickly loses his friendly facade and becomes quite frank.
"You come to me as beggars. The last remnants of a forbidden faith. You have promised me much - very predictable. You will promise me even more, I have no doubt. But all that I am likely to earn from helping you, is the inquisitor's pyre. Tell me now - why should I help the likes of you?"
Talon almost breaks his glass when he's called a beggar. He shifts his eyes sideways to meet the gaze of the Baron "The fires of Asmodeus burn much slower than the inquisitors, and I'm certain the Cardinal would agree with me"
To the feast, Caladwhen is resplendent in an exquisite strapless pure white dress the fits tightly around her torso, but flows mysteriously in the outward from there. Her hair is intricately and stylishly composed, flowing past her waist. To her companions, she appears more delicate than usual, almost like a porcelain statue.
As she passes the guard, she addresses at him mostly coldly "I am not armed, your search is not necessary... nor advised." Trusting that even diabolic nobles no something of chivalry, Caladwhen walks past the guard without giving him a second thought.
To Tiadora's introduction, Caladwhen merely crosses her arms and bites her lower lip inconspicuously. For a moment, it appears that the devil has leveled a grievous insult, but just as quickly Caladwhen regains herself, turning a warm smile towards the Baron, and bows with a deference that is clearly unnatural to her "Greetings my lord, your hospitality is most welcome."
You will regret that slight devil.
Unaware or perhaps indifferent to the Baron's feelings towards them, Caladwhen takes her seat, and orders a glass of white wine. Demurely quiet, Caladwhen leans on her left arm while running her right index finger along the rim of her glass while Aerent speaks, in somewhat quietly distracting manner.
Slowly raising her gaze towards the Baron, the lithe elf takes a different she is usually loathe to take, and smiles provocatively at the Baron. With a wicked curl of her lip, Caladwhen purrs as she speaks "Ah Baron Vandermir, I understand your hesitance to trust us, certainly I would in your situation." Leaning back, Cala tilts her head and continues "In truth though, many of us are not the remnants of a forbidden faith as you say, but rather we have congruous goals with the Asmodeans, and so have taken up the cause... as it suits us."
Running her hand behind her ear to move an errant strand of hair, Caladwhen raises an eyebrow and adds "I should think this arrangement could also suit you my Lord. Your ambitions could be met realized, if only we had your collaboration in this endeavor." Placing heavy emphasis on collaboration, Caladwhen appears to insinuate that a partnership of sorts would be in order.
Sindran assesses what his group is doing as he keeps taking a mediating role, not hostile yet not taking an active role in trying to convince the Baron. He keeps himself flexible to direct the conversation where it needs to go.
He observes Aerent and Caladwhen seemed to have taken roles of opportunity and friendliness, appealing to the Baron, while Talon and Oret remain more quiet yet potentially hostile as a show of the group's strengths and a reminder that Cardinal Thorn is not to be crossed.
The half-orc considers his own approach, before deciding a subtle appeal to the Baron's self-importance would work well in conveying his group's intentions . . . if the Baron is smart enough to catch on.
"They are correct, you know," Sindran says, waiting until their group has finished speaking. "Cardinal Thorn has mentioned an acquaintanceship with you...." He seemingly changes topics, going back to small talk.
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Torn between ordering you killed or ordering celebratory champagne, the baron looks away in contemplation. The hearth then suddenly crackles and releases a shower of sparks upwards, engulfing the golden pentagram.
The baron's eyes follow the sparks and he seems to have made his decision.
"Thank you for your elaborations. I do believe you are sincere in your desire to act, and you seem to have the ability to follow through. Unlike the last 'friend' the cardinal sent my way."
He refers of course to Aiden Kael.
"It would be folly not to jump on the opportunity you provide. So, let us enjoy our desert while we discuss how we may help eachother achieve our own goals. A toast - to our Prince of the Nine!"
The tension in the room dissipates as a beautiful selection of fruits and sweets is brought in.
Talons hand relaxes as the atmosphere releases the tension. He has a slight smile as he raises his glass, and eats some of the fruits but avoids most of the sweeter things.
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The baron gets an opportunity to gain serious power.
you get food shipments to the horn as soon as you've found it,
you get some men to do chores for you (you're level 6 now; you shouldn't have to carry, arrange, fetch, or mend much anymore), and you get to use the baron's orphanage, which is really no less than a terrorist school. The urchins from the orphanage are fully under the headmaster's control and could be used for very simple tasks such as delivering messages etc.
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