Jeorik rushes the tough from behind, using his weighted glove as a sap.
Facing Arando, the thug is surprised by the attack from behind. He is still standing, but dazed. Waiting for Arando's action. (He wins the initiative tie based on dexterity.)
[repeating yesterday's post:]
Initiative: (Believe it or not, I rolled a) 22(!)
I will hasten my approach, extending my right hand it what will hopefully look like a friendly gesture. I will attempt to deliver touch of fatigue.
(On the off chance I should roll on the attempt, I have a . . . 17 (!)
(My d20 is hot tonight! I'm sure I'll pay for it later.)
Jeorik rushes the tough from behind, using his weighted glove as a sap.
Facing Arando, the thug is surprised by the attack from behind. He is still standing, but dazed. Waiting for Arando's action. (He wins the initiative tie based on dexterity.)
[repeating yesterday's post:]
Initiative: (Believe it or not, I rolled a) 22(!)
I will hasten my approach, extending my right hand it what will hopefully look like a friendly gesture. I will attempt to deliver touch of fatigue.
(On the off chance I should roll on the attempt, I have a . . . 17 (!)
(My d20 is hot tonight! I'm sure I'll pay for it later.)
Nearly simultaneously with Jeorik's action, Arando steps closer and lays a hand reassuringly on the thug's arm while chanting. The thug is now dazed, hurt, stupid, weak , clumsy and doomed.
Jeorik attempts to strike again but the glove turns wrong in his hand and he mistimes his blow.
When he can, Arando will attempt to grab the thug's shoulders and hold him for Jeorik.
If I need another initiative roll, I have whopping 7.
for the attack, a monstrous 8.
Jeorik attempts to strike again but the glove turns wrong in his hand and he mistimes his blow.
Jeorik and Arando:
Arando attempts to grab the thug's shoulders and hold him for Jeorik, but his fingers can get no purchase on the slick leather the thug wears. Meanwhile, Jeorik attempts to strike again but the glove turns wrong in his hand and he mistimes his blow.
Finally reacting, the thug spins to face Jeorik, shrugging off Arando. He swings his heavy stick low at Jeorik's legs, connecting painfully at the knee.
Keliwyn:
The initiate announces you and ushers you into the Grandmasters office.
The office is rather large, about 15 x 20', but low-ceilinged. The walls are stone, draped with red damask. Ornaments in the stone work are plain geometric shapes, tending to primatic pentagrams. A long narrow window in the wall across from you provides sufficient illumination, but no one would describe this room as bright.
Under the window, partially shadowed by its light, hangs a large painting on the wall depicts a tall stern-looking man in black standing on a high rock overlooking a valley filled with people. On the slopes of the height the people are dressed in sumptuous, yet martial-looking, robes with gold pentagonal breastplates. Lower down the people are dressed more modestly in obvious uniformity and in the bottom of the valley are slaves in heavy fetters.
The GM's desk is large and blocky. Three desperate beggars could crowd under it for shelter.
The Grandmaster is a study in contrasts. Tall and elegantly thin as an elf, he moves like a man, without elan, without the crowning grace. The narrow torque and dagger he wears are of elven make, but the ring on his hand is massive enough to be used as a hammer. He even sits like a man. Such are the Forlorn.
Spoiler for Keliwyn :
"Keliwyn, I presume. Did Selimir send you?
Good. Please be seated. Would you like anything? Iced juice perhaps?
For some time I've been working to return an object of some use to your , I mean our, people. It has not been easy, and there have been obstacles. The work is not without risk. I need help. I also need to know that I can trust you. May I cast a spell compelling us to speak the truth before continuing our discussion?
Keliwyn, if "no"
Keliwyn, if "yes"
Last year I became convinced that this was the Mirror of Drethoro, a scrying mirror of great power. It was lost to the elves in the fall of Celwynvian. I contacted Selimir and we arranged for agents to obtain the mirror. The ship that carries it will reach here soon.
The Grandmaster pauses to draw a deep breath. Selimir and I were not able to completely finance the mission ourselves. I find myself indebted to certain people. To clear these debts I need 1000 of these, at considerably below market rate."
Morten holds out to you a piece of light brown paper a quarter the size of your palm. On it in red ink is a crude image of Castle Korvosa. It is a drug tax stamp.
I also fear my lenders may have designs on the Mirror. Though they can not know what it is, they know it must be valuable. We will need men we can count on for security.
[ooc] DC 8 Know(local - Mierani) or DC 12(history)
Inigo:
Vertas is waiting for you in his room. When you arrive he is unpacking a small backpack. As you arrive he lights two tall candles, their cinnamon-like scent slowly fills the room. "There, much nicer." The old man rasps. He indicates that you should sit on the wall bench.
"Did you find out anything about the elf? And who was the old man in the courtyard?"
After your reply he nods. "please find out more about the elf, he intrigues me. Tomorrow morning should be soon enough."
"Inigo, do you know what I am, and why I am here?" As he says this, he removes his pentagonal gold breastplate and with effort, hands it to you.
The breastplate weighs about 5 pounds. It has fine chains which secure it around the neck and back. ON first glance it is simply a ceremonial ornament of the middle church hierarchy, but the fine etching on its face differs somewhat. In each corner is an eye. In the center an eye wreathed in flames surmounts a mace.
"Do you know what the First Lord desires of us above all else, INigo? Obediance. Swift, effective, total Obediance. Only through obediance to proper authority can the rabble overcome their petty conflicting aims and desires and work together to acheive anything. Without the sway of law this city would be a miserable heap of bones and wreckage, the inhabitants preying on each other. Chaos. Disaster.
Obediance, INigo. All else is secondary."
Vertas shuffles back to his bed and plops down to sit on the edge. "Tell me about yourself, INigo."
Jeorik winces and then, letting his training take over he instinctively lashes out again, his weighted leather glove making a beautiful flat arc towards his opponent.
Attack: (1d20+3=23)
Confirming threatened critical: (1d20+3=21)
Critical damage (subdual): (2d4+4=8)(seperate rolls for damage were 1 and then 3)
"Yeah, I do -- if only all your jobs were this straightforward. Seems your Goodman is, or was -- he may be changing profession -- an 'independent' qat dealer who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Somehow, he must have ticked off one or two of the Nails who was rounding up dealers in Midlands. They gave him a good, stern talking-to, then dropped him off with the Watch."Darvyl takes a few bites of his meat.
"Oh, yeah. My contact didn't know anything about the other name."
Darthen listens intently as Darvyl describes his conversation with Qevir. He nods, "Did he say anything about the Nails that picked him up? What about the qat he was selling. Was it stamped?"
As Darvyl finishes his meal, he gets a somewhat calculating look. "Listen, Darthen. I've got a job right now, but the pay is for dung. If you've got something going that could use a little night work, I'd love to hear about it."
"There might be something for you soon. Depending on how this investigation goes an extra hand, or sword, may be needed. When it gets to that point you will be first I call on." Watching Darvyl eat and drink he starts wondering who this Maggie Bright could be.
"Either it's an alias or she has bypassed the registration. If she is involved in illegal qat then both would be expected. Goodman was caught up with the Wrappers in a city-wide bust of unstamped qat. If he had stamped qat why did they pick him up? Could he have had a forged stamp? What exactly happened to all the qat that was rounded up? What about all the Wrappers that were taken into custory. I don't recall any mention of them being beat so badly. Could the Nails be rounding up the qat to resell for one of the nobles? Maybe Goodman figured out what was going on so they tried to quiet him up."
Darthen hears a loud smack, instinctly puts his hand on the pommel of his sword, before realizing Darvyl had just put his empty mug down. "Sorry about that my friend, I was just going over some of notes in my head. I think I may need your services sooner rather than later. Tomorrow I will head over and speak with Gnarls or someone in his family. After that I will contact you for a trip into Wrapper territory. Maybe we can speak to one of them ... discreetly. Unless something else comes up during that time and sends me in a different direction. Be here tomorrow night after you get off. I'll leave any messages with Jonathon." Smilling he says, "If nothing else you can get a decent dinner. You look like you could use a few good meals."
As Darvyl gets up to leave Darthen shakes his hands, transfering 1sp to him. "Thanks for your help Darvyl." With a wink and sly smile he adds, "tell your sister I said hello"
Darthen listens intently as Darvyl describes his conversation with Qevir. He nods, "Did he say anything about the Nails that picked him up? What about the qat he was selling. Was it stamped?"
Darvyl grins. "Yeah, I asked about both of those. I have done this before. One of the Nails was your friend and mine, Paralictor Graves. The other was a name I didn't know, Levey . . . Anton Levey.
"And, yes, Gnarls's stuff was stamped."
"After that I will contact you for a trip into Wrapper territory. Maybe we can speak to one of them ... discreetly. Unless something else comes up during that time and sends me in a different direction. Be here tomorrow night after you get off. I'll leave any messages with Jonathon." Smilling he says, "If nothing else you can get a decent dinner. You look like you could use a few good meals."
"Damned straight," Darvyl laughs. "Ok, I'll check back tomorrow evening."
As Darvyl gets up to leave Darthen shakes his hands, transfering 1sp to him. "Thanks for your help Darvyl." With a wink and sly smile he adds, "tell your sister I said hello"
"I'll do just that! And say the same to your mother." Chuckling, Darvyl pockets the silver and heads home.
Jeorik and Arando:
Jeorik winces and then, letting his training take over he instinctively lashes out again, his weighted leather glove making a beautiful flat arc towards his opponent.
[/url]
The glove hits the thug in the temple. He staggers back, falling toward Arando.
[it strikes me as unlikely that Arando can stop a large unconscious man from hitting the ground]
"Good hit, Jeorik! Let's drag him across the street."
Jeorik and Arando:
Jeorik winces and then, letting his training take over he instinctively lashes out again, his weighted leather glove making a beautiful flat arc towards his opponent.
[/url]
The glove hits the thug in the temple. He staggers back, falling toward Arando.
Jeorik grimaces as the man hits the ground. He takes a moment to shake the rocks from his glove and then slipping the glove under his belt he bends down and picks up the fallen man with Arando's assistance.
"Sorry about this," says Jeorik to the unconscious individual he is carrying as they jostle him about. With a feeling of some uneasiness about the situation, Jeorik looks up and down the street to see how much attention they are drawing to themselves.
[it strikes me as unlikely that Arando can stop a large unconscious man from hitting the ground]
There are onlookers, and one of them, a local shopkeeper named Steppen known to Arando approaches wringing his pudgy hands.
"Arando, what are you doing? What's going on?"
Some others mutter darkly. Someone mentions "the Guard" . One sprightly lad dashes away from the scene.
Jeorik whistles innocently as he carries the man. "Just a little misunderstanding, I'm sure," he says out loud and then softer to Arando, "Let's hurry and get him inside."
[yes, dodging is definitely the play]
"It's all right, Steppen, we're heading off trouble before it starts."
Arando will help Jeorik with the unconscious man, to get him inside as quickly as possible.
[it strikes me as unlikely that Arando can stop a large unconscious man from hitting the ground]
There are onlookers, and one of them, a local shopkeeper named Steppen known to Arando approaches wringing his pudgy hands.
"Arando, what are you doing? What's going on?"
Some others mutter darkly. Someone mentions "the Guard" . One sprightly lad dashes away from the scene.
Will Save; Knowledge (Religion) (1d20+6=14, 1d20+5=7)
Though Inigo has no intention of hiding what he found about Keliwyn from Vertas, he felt an iron vise that seem to sap his will. Inigo can only observe in horror as the words come out of their own volition, "Yes, obedience to the properly constituted authorities is all. Keliwyn told me that he is here to meet with the Grandmaster on account of certain communications from unidentified parties that they have a common interest. I hazard it might pertain to the Grandmaster's elvish heritage though I was informed that the Grandmaster was raised away from his people."
Inigo notices the insignia on Vertas' weighty breastplate but cannot place it at the moment.
"I am a warrior first and foremost and not a bureaucrat. I prefer smiting infidels and heretics than catering to wretches with overblown sense of worth. Master Vertas, I see that you are warrior. I take it that you have the same distaste?"
Arando and Jeorik; You drag the thug across the street, into Dorman's. As you do so you notice brown drool seeping from his mouth.
"I am a warrior first and foremost and not a bureaucrat. I prefer smiting infidels and heretics than catering to wretches with overblown sense of worth. Master Vertas, I see that you are warrior. I take it that you have the same distaste?"
"In a happier life I was a warrior. I'm too old now to wield weapons well. And it is the First Lord's pleasure that I should spend my time with unfaithful heretics and wretches with overblown sense of worth. " His mouth twists in a bemused grimace.
"what were Morten's instructions regarding me?"
As you enter Dorman's warehouse, you see that the merchant has already set out lunch. The bread on the table smells fresh-made and delicious. Dorman's already sliced up some fowl and goat-cheese.
He turns to you as you enter and gestures with the carving knife at one of the chairs set around the table; the only chair with armrests.
"Good work. Set him up there and get him cleaned off and ready. Be quick about it; we haven't much time."
"In a happier life I was a warrior. I'm too old now to wield weapons well. And it is the First Lord's pleasure that I should spend my time with unfaithful heretics and wretches with overblown sense of worth. " His mouth twists in a bemused grimace."what were Morten's instructions regarding me?"
"Only that I was to serve you to the best of my abilities and that I was to inform the Grandmaster of your activities."
I drag him to the chair (hopefully Jeorik helps), saying, "I think someone went for the Guard."
As you enter Dorman's warehouse, you see that the merchant has already set out lunch. The bread on the table smells fresh-made and delicious. Dorman's already sliced up some fowl and goat-cheese.
He turns to you as you enter and gestures with the carving knife at one of the chairs set around the table; the only chair with armrests.
"Good work. Set him up there and get him cleaned off and ready. Be quick about it; we haven't much time."
"Only that I was to serve you to the best of my abilities and that I was to inform the Grandmaster of your activities."
"I expected no differently. It is always the same."
Vertas leads you through a series of questions, changing subject frequently, often repeating a question as if he had forgotten your earlier answer. The subjects range from your personal history, particularly in Korvosa, to your relationships with your fellow priests, to prominent members of the faithful, to Morten's calender of meetings, to Garven ("weren't you going to tell me about the other old man in the garden?), to temple economics.
He concludes with one last question, "What do you think of your Grandmaster and the current state of this temple?"
Afterward Inigo replies, Vertas asks him to do a few things,
[list]
I drag him to the chair (hopefully Jeorik helps), saying, "I think someone went for the Guard."
The thug groans as he's heaved into the chair. A leafy brown wad rolls from his mouth. It is Qat, a mild and nearly legal depressant chewed primarily by the lower classes.
Jeorik looks at the disgusting brown wad as he helps position the body.
He queries his uncle, just a little nervously, "Should we tie him up? Or bring him around? I assume you have a plan for dealing with trouble from the guard?"
"I think someone went for the Guard."
"Should we tie him up? Or bring him around? I assume you have a plan for dealing with trouble from the guard?"
Dorman looks a little surprised, and tosses Jeorik a damp cleaning rag. "Clean him up a little, disarm him, and," he adds, turning to Arando, "remove his boots. Make sure his weapons are well out of arm's reach, and place his boots back by the door. One of you, stand next to him, ready to restrain him if he tries to rise.
"If he does attempt something foolish, only then will we bind him. If he's got any sense in his head, it won't come to that.
"And, incidentally, the city guard is the least of our worries." The old merchant glances sidewise out the back doors of the warehouse, towards the docks. "This is Korvosa, lad. One way or another, this man will be long gone by the time they arrive."
I get down on the floor and pull off his boots, looking for any weapons I can see on him from down here. I'll put his boots by the back door.
"Who do you think this guy works for?"
"I think someone went for the Guard.""Should we tie him up? Or bring him around? I assume you have a plan for dealing with trouble from the guard?"Dorman looks a little surprised, and tosses Jeorik a damp cleaning rag. "Clean him up a little, disarm him, and," he adds, turning to Arando, "remove his boots. Make sure his weapons are well out of arm's reach, and place his boots back by the door. One of you, stand next to him, ready to restrain him if he tries to rise.
"If he does attempt something foolish, only then will we bind him. If he's got any sense in his head, it won't come to that.
"And, incidentally, the city guard is the least of our worries." The old merchant glances sidewise out the back doors of the warehouse, towards the docks. "This is Korvosa, lad. One way or another, this man will be long gone by the time they arrive."
Jeorik does as his uncle bids once more, though the remark about, "This is Korvosa," worries him. Questioning is one thing, murder something else entirely.
"Done," he says when the man is clean and weapon's free.
The thug moans a little as Dorman leans down and deftly removes the man's belt pouch. "I'll be right back," Dorman says. "If he wakes up while I'm out, let's be hospitable. Offer him something to eat or drink."
And the merchant turns back into his offices and closes the door behind him.
As soon as Dorman leaves, the captured man raises his head and growls, "You're both dead men if you're still in Korvosa at sunset. You know that, don't you?"
As soon as Dorman leaves, the captured man raises his head and growls, "You're both dead men if you're still in Korvosa at sunset. You know that, don't you?"
"So would you like something to eat," says Jeorik in a friendly tone, deciding to ignore the threat for the moment, "Sorry about the bump on the head but we didn't think you'd want to just walk in the front door with us."
"So what's this all about anyway? I'm new to the city."
"I expected no differently. It is always the same."Vertas leads you through a series of questions, changing subject frequently, often repeating a question as if he had forgotten your earlier answer. The subjects range from your personal history, particularly in Korvosa, to your relationships with your fellow priests, to prominent members of the faithful, to Morten's calender of meetings, to Garven ("weren't you going to tell me about the other old man in the garden?), to temple economics.
He concludes with one last question, "What do you think of your Grandmaster and the current state of this temple?"
"I despise him for being such a sycophant. He has failed the First Lord by allowing the Temple to reach this sorry state. I wouldn't mind cracking open his skull for such a failure."
Afterward Inigo replies, Vertas asks him to do a few things,
[list]Bring him the ledgers for the temple treasury.
Bring him Morten's appointment book, if he keeps one.
Bring the lesser priests to see him one by one. "Tell them I am here to examine their orthodoxy and fitness for promotion."
Find out who, if anyone sees Morten today.
Find a trustworthy auditor from outside the temple.
** spoiler omitted **
Report everything, except anything that might lessen Inigo's standing with the Grandmaster, to Morten after it's done.
"As you know, Garven and Keliwyn has met with Morten today. Garven is a familiar face here in the temple whereas this Keliwyn is a new face."
"By your leave, I shall do the rest that you have bid. For the Greater Glory of the First Lord." Inigo then moves out of the room to do all the things required of him by Vertas.
Inigo heads first to look for the lesser priests and direct them to Vertas. With them meeting with Vertas, Inigo figures that the ledgers and the appointment book would be easy to obtain.
"So what's this all about anyway? I'm new to the city."
"Hired muscle, eh? Well, take my advice, country boy. You're in the middle of something you don't want to know nothing about, and you're on the wrong side. Ask the little wizard here. Ask him how many guys Vander had last season. Ask him how many they got now.
"Answer is, two more than there'll be tomorrow."
"If we're in the middle of it, then we DO want to know about it. If you won't tell me what you're talking about, why should I listen to you? So what is it you think I'm in the middle of?"
"So what's this all about anyway? I'm new to the city."
"Hired muscle, eh? Well, take my advice, country boy. You're in the middle of something you don't want to know nothing about, and you're on the wrong side. Ask the little wizard here. Ask him how many guys Vander had last season. Ask him how many they got now.
"Answer is, two more than there'll be tomorrow."
Inigo heads first to look for the lesser priests and direct them to Vertas. With them meeting with Vertas, Inigo figures that the ledgers and the appointment book would be easy to obtain.
Inigo. That's a great plan for the appointment book. Which does exist. Consider the app. book obtained. Gossip travels fast, and the lesser priests give you no back-talk, even if they are reluctant.
It's not great for the ledgers, which are kept by Owlen, who would not be considered a lesser priest.
If you run down to the temple library:
How do you plan on handling the tasks out of temple?
"Keliwyn, I presume. Did Selimir send you?
Good. Please be seated. Would you like anything? Iced juice perhaps?
For some time I've been working to return an object of some use to your , I mean our, people. It has not been easy, and there have been obstacles. The work is not without risk. I need help. I also need to know that I can trust you. May I cast a spell compelling us to speak the truth before continuing our discussion?'
"Well, I wouldn't say that Selimir sent me, but he did point me in your direction and indicated that we may have a common interest."
After accepting some juice, and listening to the grandmaster, Keliwyn thinks for a few minutes before realizing that he has nothing to lose and agreeing to the spell.
He listens quietly as the priest continues, sitting stoicly and revealing nothing. Pushing aside any questions he has for why this Forlorn would care about the mirror, and what would motivate him to act outside the auspices of the Temple, Keliwyn digests what he is told.
Knowledge (1d20=13) After the priest finishes, Keliwyn responds. "I know of this mirror, and although most whisper of it as legend, I know that it was lost to the Mierani when Celwynvian fell. Recovering it would be of utmost importance, and I will, of course, do whatever I can."
"Now then, acquiring stamps shouldn't be too difficult, and I can certainly provide for some security, if need be. Unless you have some ideas of your own, I imagine these tasks are to be left to my discretion?"
"Now then, acquiring stamps shouldn't be too difficult, and I can certainly provide for some security, if need be. Unless you have some ideas of your own, I imagine these tasks are to be left to my discretion?"
"Yes, of course. Discretion is the word. May I expect to hear from you in a day or so? How may I contact you if I have need?"
Afterward, Morten thanks you and sees you to the office door.
"If you won't tell me what you're talking about, why should I listen to you?"
The man stops looking at Jeorik, and slowly turns to Arando.
"You had your chance, little wizard. We toldyou to wise up and make yourself scarce. Today's your last day working for Vander. Tomorrow, you'll either be chatting with Faelar or Malkarnen. Your choice."
Outside, you hear the clatter of several hard boots, rushing up to the door.
For Arando:
Malkarnen was a seamster, one of the finest sail-makers in Korvosa; Vander was lucky to get his services, and several other merchants had offered to pay him upwards to twice his wages. Last winter, his body was found in the river, his eyes and fingers surgically removed.
"Why all the animosity," Jeorik asks the seated thug, "Who are you working for?"
Jeorik moves near to the door.
"You don't know anything, huh? They probably only hired you because they couldn't afford a dog."
I will face the door and prepare myself. (What weapons did the thug have?)
"If you won't tell me what you're talking about, why should I listen to you?"
The man stops looking at Jeorik, and slowly turns to Arando.
"You had your chance, little wizard. We toldyou to wise up and make yourself scarce. Today's your last day working for Vander. Tomorrow, you'll either be chatting with Faelar or Malkarnen. Your choice."
Outside, you hear the clatter of several hard boots, rushing up to the door.
For Arando:
** spoiler omitted **
"Why all the animosity," Jeorik asks the seated thug, "Who are you working for?"
"The winning side, country boy. Hey, what's Vander payin' you? I'll guarantee, come next week, he'll be in no shape to pay you a stinkin' copper. Why don't you come over to where the smart money is?"
"You don't know anything, huh? They probably only hired you because they couldn't afford a dog."
Jeorik moves near to the door.
Arando faces the door and prepares himself.There's a blow at the door that tears the simple wooden bolt out of the wall. The bolt goes flying across the room, missing Arando's head by a half-inch, and clatters against the far wall.
The door to the street is now wide open.
There are three men blocking the doorway. All of them have weapons drawn: two have swords, and one wields a 30-pound hammer. The man you're questioning stands and grabs for the carving knife on the table. He acts as if he were furious at Arando.
"Couldn't afford a dog, eh? Well, when I'm done with you, little wizard, you'll be dog meat!"
(Arando, the weapons you took off the thug were a shortsword and a dull-bladed dagger, both in poor upkeep.)
Both of you, please make either a Spot or Sense Motive roll, your choice, and announce your intentions. We may be getting into a melee.
Spot: 19! My intention is to cast sleep (4 hit dice of things go into magical slumber) on the men in the door.
"Why all the animosity," Jeorik asks the seated thug, "Who are you working for?""The winning side, country boy. Hey, what's Vander payin' you? I'll guarantee, come next week, he'll be in no shape to pay you a stinkin' copper. Why don't you come over to where the smart money is?"
"You don't know anything, huh? They probably only hired you because they couldn't afford a dog."Jeorik moves near to the door.
Arando faces the door and prepares himself.There's a blow at the door that tears the simple wooden bolt out of the wall. The bolt goes flying across the room, missing Arando's head by a half-inch, and clatters against the far wall.
The door to the street is now wide open.
There are three men blocking the doorway. All of them have weapons drawn: two have swords, and one wields a 30-pound hammer. The man you're questioning stands and grabs for the carving knife on the table. He acts as if he were furious at Arando.
"Couldn't afford a dog, eh? Well, when I'm done with you, little wizard, you'll be dog meat!"
(Arando, the weapons you took off the thug were a shortsword and a dull-bladed dagger, both in poor upkeep.)
Both of you, please make either a Spot or Sense Motive roll, your choice, and announce your intentions. We may be getting into a melee.
"Yes, of course. Discretion is the word. May I expect to hear from you in a day or so? How may I contact you if I have need?"
Keliwyn explains that he can be contacted by leaving a message with his friend Siladil, a half-elven innkeeper whose establishment is not to far away, and that yes, he'll send word to Morten in a few days regarding his progress.
Finally, before leaving, he asks Morten, "Do you want me to take possession of the mirror when the ship makes dock? If so, I'll need the proper info - name of ship, name of contact, when & where, etc. As I said, I can take care of getting some muscle, but I think this will be best left to a small group so as to not draw attention."
Afterward, Morten thanks you and sees you to the office door.
After leaving, Keliwyn decides to wander the city for a bit, to have some lunch and get in some face time with various contacts, before heading to Lower Northgate to visit his friend Cygney Greenlake who runs a scribe/copying business.
Spot: 19! My intention is to cast sleep (4 hit dice of things go into magical slumber) on the men in the door.
Arando, the result of your Spot check:
Sleep is an excellent choice. Did you want to exclude the guy with the knife standing right next to you from the area of effect?
If you begin a spell, particularly sleep which takes a little longer to cast than most spells, you might be attacked before the incantation is complete. (Indeed, just standing there and casting would allow the captured thug an attack-of-opportunity (AoO) against you.) You can avoid the AoO by "casting defensively", which requires a Concentration check with a DC of 16 (15 + spell level). (If someone else does get to attack you normally during your casting, you'll need to make another Concentration check to keep the spellcasting going.)
The downside to casting defensively is that if the Concentration check fails, the spell doesn't go off. (You're too busy thinking about dodging incoming attacks, and forget to pay attention to actually casting the spell.)
Do you want to devote all your attention to casting sleep, or do you want to cast defensively?
Jeorik draws his sword and readies himself to recieve a charge. (Instead of charging into battle he will prepare to attack the first that charges him; assuming Jeorik has the initiative advantage of course. )
Jeorik, the result of your Sense Motive check:
"Charging" is a particular maneuver, involving rushing towards a foe. (PH, page 154.) This isn't a good situation for charging.
You're right next to the doorway, and they're right outside it. There is a "hard corner" between you and the men outside (see the rules on Cover, PH page 151); you have cover to the first man, and vice versa, but you could attack one another where you stand. Either of you could take a five-foot step (he'd be entering the warehouse) to attack each other directly.
Do I understand you to mean that you are readying an attack against any opponent who moves to attack you?
Do I understand you to mean that you are readying an attack against any opponent who moves to attack you?
Finally, before leaving, he asks Morten, "Do you want me to take possession of the mirror when the ship makes dock? If so, I'll need the proper info - name of ship, name of contact, when & where, etc. As I said, I can take care of getting some muscle, but I think this will be best left to a small group so as to not draw attention."After leaving, Keliwyn decides to wander the city for a bit, to have some lunch and get in some face time with various contacts, before heading to Lower Northgate to visit his friend Cygney Greenlake who runs a scribe/copying business.
Morten agrees a small group would be best. The current plan is for his contact to carry the mirror off the boat in her sea-chest and make the transfer at a nearby tavern. Morten will be coming along in any case.
Greenlake runs her business out of an apartment on the third (top)floor of an older building on a cul-de-sac. The building's facade is dark-timbered and narrowly windowed. It seems the psuedodragons like this area. Seven are within easy sight.
Inside the building's hallway the air is stuffy and close. A filthy skylight at the top of the stairwell allows a thin trickle of light to illuminate the gloom. The stairs are squeaky and somewhat uneven.