Expecting Jeorik to deal with the captured thug, I want to concentrate on the men at the door, as I originally implied. (I think this is a good gamble, as it could end the encounter immediately)
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:
** spoiler omitted **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:
** spoiler omitted **"Charging" is a...
Arando's Initiative: 21
Opponents' Initiative: 19
And then Jeorik at 15.
(Looks like everybody's perky for the fighting to begin.)
Arando, it looks like your opponents are going to act before Jeorik. Do you want to cast sleep immediately or wait for Jeorik?
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.
Keliwn climbs the stairs, singing and calling out, "Cygney, my sweet, have you missed me?" before knocking on her door.
I will go immediately.
Opponents' Initiative: 19
And then Jeorik at 15.(Looks like everybody's perky for the fighting to begin.)
Arando, it looks like your opponents are going to act before Jeorik. Do you want to cast sleep immediately or wait for Jeorik?
Arando begins to cast sleep. If he gets this spell off, it could end the fight before it's begun. He chants, and gestures, and does whatever he needs to do with the live cricket,...
This is the first round of combat, and the man next to Arando has not yet acted, which means he is flat-flooted and does not get to make an Attack of Opportunity. ()
Arando makes sure his spell's area of effect does not include Jeorik, which means he can't include the captured thug, either. That's what teamwork is for, he hopes.
Two of the three men outside the door --including the one with the hammer-- slump and crumble noisily to the cobblestones.
Their turn.
Keliwn climbs the stairs, singing and calling out, "Cygney, my sweet, have you missed me?" before knocking on her door.
"Kel! Is't you , honey? Hang on." She goes through the ritual of door opening. Undoing the three deadbolts, peering out, then undoing the three chains that still held the door almost closed.
"comon in. " The apartment is a single large room which Cygney has subdivided with brightly colored hangings. Closest to the door on the right is the "office" with a small writing desk and two rather uncomfortable chairs. She leads you beyond that to her sitting area light sifted through the outside elms streams in through two large open windows on the west wall. The appartment is high enough that there is a bit of a breeze coming in the west windows and exiting through another in the north wall.
She plops unto one large cushion, and pats the one next to her. "Its been so long, Kel. What have you been up to?"
Although Forlorn like Morten, Cygney is unsettling in different, less obvious ways. She moves and speaks well, but is always at the edge of the small Meirani community in Korvosa constantly seeking to ingratiate herself. At times her eagerness to please seems desperate, and she can be aggravatingly persistent
The man at the door is about to take a step inside. This won't be good for Jeorik, because then he won't have the cover of the wall, and if he tries to move away from the swordsman to help Arando, he'll provoke an Attack of Opportunity for moving out of a threatened space.
A crossbow bolt from the side of the room lands in the door mantle. Crossbows are capable of hitting people from a distance of two city blocks, and this one fired from the doorway into Dorman Vander's office, only 20' away. The bolt tears into the hardwood mantle and embeds itself eight inches deep. Both Jeorik and the swordsman reflexively step back.
Dorman is standing in the doorway to his office, holding the weapon in both hands. The crossbow is larger than any Jeorik has ever seen, a full two feet wide, and weighing 10 pounds or more. While the top bowstring has fired, a second bolt is locked into a lower bow running along the bottom of the barrel.
He doesn't look happy. At all.
"Surely, this is a mistake," he says, icily. "I would not believe that a stranger would dare to set foot in my warehouse, arms drawn against my guests, particularly when the Watch has already been called.
"Perhaps you're hoping that the Hellknights would get here before the Guard? I'm sure they'llbe sympathetic to your situation."
The swordsman at the door --given a moment's breathing space, you realize that, like the captured thug, he's shaved his head; the two sleeping men outside both have dirty brown hair-- protests. "You kidnapped Lars. We were rescuing him."
Dorman doesn't even crack a smile. "Lars here was a guest we invited in to share our meal. He has been free to go whenever he wished.
"Lars, your friends are rude, and we are offended. You are no longer welcome here, and they never were. Take your boots, and your weapons, and this..." he says, throwing the captured thug his belt and pouch, "...and be off with you. Leave the silverware, please."
The thug, Lars, complies, and the swordsman wakes his two comrades. Lars waits until he's outside to put his boots back on. The four men walk off, sullen and seething.
Dorman breathes a sigh, and the tension goes out of him. "Close the door, lad. And take the bolt out of the wood, if you wouldn't mind."
[I have a 4 for sense motive. I'm guessing that ain't gonna cut it.]
"Who are these people? And what are hell knights? I appreciate all you've done for me, Sir, but this is getting to be a bit much."
I will go to the door and remove the bolt.
The man at the door is about to take a step inside. This won't be good for Jeorik, because then he won't have the cover of the wall, and if he tries to move away from the swordsman to help Arando, he'll provoke an Attack of Opportunity for moving out of a threatened space.
A crossbow bolt from the side of the room lands in the door mantle. Crossbows are capable of hitting people from a distance of two city blocks, and this one fired from the doorway into Dorman Vander's office, only 20' away. The bolt tears into the hardwood mantle and embeds itself eight inches deep. Both Jeorik and the swordsman reflexively step back.
Dorman is standing in the doorway to his office, holding the weapon in both hands. The crossbow is larger than any Jeorik has ever seen, a full two feet wide, and weighing 10 pounds or more. While the top bowstring has fired, a second bolt is locked into a lower bow running along the bottom of the barrel.
He doesn't look happy. At all.
"Surely, this is a mistake," he says, icily. "I would not believe that a stranger would dare to set foot in my warehouse, arms drawn against my guests, particularly when the Watch has already been called.
"Perhaps you're hoping that the Hellknights would get here before the Guard? I'm sure they'llbe sympathetic to your situation."
The swordsman at the door --given a moment's breathing space, you realize that, like the captured thug, he's shaved his head; the two sleeping men outside both have dirty brown hair-- protests. "You kidnapped Lars. We were rescuing him."
Dorman doesn't even crack a smile. "Lars here was a guest we invited in to share our meal. He has been free to go whenever he wished.
"Lars, your friends are rude, and we are offended. You are no longer welcome here, and they never were. Take your boots, and your weapons, and this..." he says, throwing the captured thug his belt and pouch, "...and be off with you. Leave the silverware, please."...
Darthen:
As you close the door to your apartment you realize you are not alone. A diminutive figure cloaked in black is sitting at your table.
"You really ought to keep the windows barred, Darthen."
Sighing Darthen says, "I really need to get a room without a window. Can I get you a drink, or maybe some dinner from the kitchen?"
(First a corrective note: Lars' weapons were a large hardwood truncheon and a large hunting knife, bordering on being a thin short sword.)
Sense Motive: (1d20=13)
Jeorik,
"There's never a dull moment around here, is there?"
Dorman locks the crossbow, sets it down on a low table running along the wall, and takes a chair. Arando, this may be the first time you've seen your employer actually sit at a table. He glances at the two of you and then at the two chairs. It's an invitation.
"It's like to get more interesting yet, m'boy. While you and Arando here were distracting him, I was checking through Lars's pouches. I've come to find three reasons that you will meet him again, and sooner more than likely.
"First, he isn't merely taking Qat. He is selling it, and without a tax stamp. I found three sealed and unstamped packages of it, each a couple of days old. That identifies him with a certain stratum of the city's lower lifestyles."
Dorman reaches into a vest pouch and withdraws a small square of parchment, folded into fourths. "Second, he was carrying papers that suggest he's party to one of my larger problems." As he talks, he reaches behind him for a small writing desk, from which he withdraws a candle, an envelope, and a well-used block of blue sealing wax.
"Once he realizes I've liberated this little document, he'll be eager to have it back." Dorman slides the folded paper into the envelope, lights the candle, and begins to melt the blue wax in its flames.
"Having said that, however, I must also mention that my opponent in these matters either did not mean for the products of Lars's person to be so readily availalbe to us, or else we were intended to find this, and it is bait laid out for us. Our opponent in this is subtle, and I would not put it past him." Dorman dribbles the wax on the envelope, and impresses his signet ring on the seal before it cools.
Dorman sighs. "Jeorik, I needs send Arando to deliver this parcel to a scribe in the upper end of town, an elf by the name of Cygney Greenlake. I presume he would feel safer if he hand your strong swordarm by his side. Would you consent to escort him there and back?"
The wax cooled, Dorman turns the envelope over and writes a two short questions and a third, even shorter sentence.
He hands the envelope, and a small leather pouch containing coins to Arando. "Take these to Cygney. Her workshop is on Summit Street, three blocks east of the lower courts. Give her this payment, and wait for an answer. Once you have it, come directly back here. It may take some time before she's ready, and I don't mean to have to wandering off for supper before getting back.
"Tell no one your business. If accosted on the streets, throw them the gold and run; do not allow that message to escape your possession. If you run into any trustworthy friends along the way, invite them back with you. I'll have a job for them, too.
"Now," he says relaxing, "are there any questions?" He asks it as if it were a test, as if there were something he deliberately left out.
You're missing a lot of context here: you're not sure what the "Hellknights" are, although they certainly sound like bad news
Dorman
So, anyway, Jeorik has a vague idea about the hellknights.
"Now," he says relaxing, "are there any questions?" He asks it as if it were a test, as if there were something he deliberately left out.
Jeorik scratches the back of his head and sits.
"I don't mind escorting Arando for you sir. But I do have a few questions I guess. First, you said there were three reasons that Lars would be back after us but I only caught two of them? Secondly, you seem to know who's behind your recent problems. I might be more comfortable if I knew. Thirdly and perhaps of least importance... I haven't eaten much but trail rations today. Do you mind if I have a bite of food before we set out?"
"Oh... and what is the law on self defense in Korvosa?" Jeorik grins, "I don't rightly want my blood spilt but I'm not looking to get myself hanged either."
"Yea, let's go. I should have MY crossbow. It's not really the law I'm worried about."
[my languages are posted!! Under 'languages.' Of course I read elvish.]
"Now," he says relaxing, "are there any questions?" He asks it as if it were a test, as if there were something he deliberately left out.Jeorik scratches the back of his head and sits.
"I don't mind escorting Arando for you sir. But I do have a few questions I guess. First, you said there were three reasons that Lars would be back after us but I only caught two of them? Secondly, you seem to know who's behind your recent problems. I might be more comfortable if I knew. Thirdly and perhaps of least importance... I haven't eaten much but trail rations today. Do you mind if I have a bite of food before we set out?"
"Oh... and what is the law on self defense in Korvosa?" Jeorik grins, "I don't rightly want my blood spilt but I'm not looking to get myself hanged either."
(Resignedly) "I already asked my questions."
(First a corrective note: Lars' weapons were a large hardwood truncheon and a large hunting knife, bordering on being a thin short sword.)
Sense Motive: (1d20=13)Jeorik,** spoiler omitted **
"There's never a dull moment around here, is there?"
Dorman locks the crossbow, sets it down on a low table running along the wall, and takes a chair. Arando, this may be the first time you've seen your employer actually sit at a table. He glances at the two of you and then at the two chairs. It's an invitation.
"It's like to get more interesting yet, m'boy. While you and Arando here were distracting him, I was checking through Lars's pouches. I've come to find three reasons that you will meet him again, and sooner more than likely.
"First, he isn't merely taking Qat. He is selling it, and without a tax stamp. I found three sealed and unstamped packages of it, each a couple of days old. That identifies him with a certain stratum of the city's lower lifestyles."
Dorman reaches into a vest pouch and withdraws a small square of parchment, folded into fourths. "Second, he was carrying papers that suggest he's party to one of my larger problems." As he talks, he reaches behind him for a small writing desk, from which he withdraws a candle, an envelope, and a well-used block of blue sealing wax.
"Once he realizes I've liberated this little document, he'll be eager to have it back." Dorman slides the folded paper into the envelope, lights the candle, and begins to melt the blue wax in its flames.
"Having said that, however, I must also mention that my opponent in these matters either...
[my languages are posted!! Under 'languages.' Of course I read elvish.]
Sighing Darthen says, "I really need to get a room without a window. Can I get you a drink, or maybe some dinner from the kitchen?"
It's Velvet. " No thanks, I've eaten. You need more ham. Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours. Oh, you need more ale too." The halfling tips his chair back, places his mocassin shod feet up on the table.
"I overheard a little of your conversation with the boss. Both you longshanks really should learn to talk more quietly. I don't think he told you everything he should have. Don't think he meant any harm mind you. He's under a lot of pressure. He's worried about the Wrappers. They're a lot more aggressive than before, both in terms of business and being just plain mean. And they're a lot smarter. "
" I've heard just a hint, they've got "new management" , to steal Thalus' phrase. Gaedron Lamb."
"I don't mind escorting Arando for you sir. But I do have a few questions I guess. First, you said there were three reasons that Lars would be back after us but I only caught two of them?
Dorman smiles. "You've paid attention; excellent.
"Freely do I admit, I dislike the trade in Qat. It is a tepid vice, to be sure, dulling the senses of those foolish enough to fall for its allure, but its effects add up, addict after addict, day after day, and weaken this city. There's not much we can do to halt itsthe trade: the bed of rushes that South Cheliacian traders use to cushion their shipped wares strongly resembles raw Qat, and serves as a disguise for the drug."
The merchant pauses and smiles wider. "Of course, nobody tries to chew the actual packing herbs; they're mildly poisonous. Although they resemble Qat when ground, anyone chewing them would be subject to severe cramping and, ah, intestinal distress.
"So, for his sake, let us hope that Lars kicks his habit before reaching for the 'Qat' I left in his pouch."
Secondly, you seem to know who's behind your recent problems. I might be more comfortable if I knew.Thirdly and perhaps of least importance... I haven't eaten much but trail rations today. Do you mind if I have a bite of food before we set out?"
Dorman grows a little more serious. "Oh, please. Help yourself. You, too, Arando; dig in.
"I'm not sure who's behind some of the problems. Frankly, Jeorik, I'm in serious trouble.
"Two of my ships were lost at sea last quarter, and the other two are now late. Those are the risks of trade, and the viccissitudes of life. We grieve for our dead crew, notify our local merchants, and contact the shipwrights.
"But this time, I've borrowed money, against the profits I'd make from the ships' cargo. And the contract...ah, the contract...seems to be far more to my disadvantage than I recall.
"There's a ... man in town, a disreputable, petty wretch of a man, who likes nothing more than collecting debtors, like some collect books or fine pottery, and wringing them ... I mean 'us', I suppose ... until we are wrung dry. He presses that disadvantage against me. If I cannot make good soon, I shall be ruined.
"Is he behind the threats that have reduced my staff from a dozen this past winter's thaw, down to Arando here? I would think he's capable of it, surely, but I have no proof.
"But my advice, nephew: never borrow from Garvin Fellrock. If you do, you'll be indentured till the end of your days. He'll probably have a clause in there, specifically to entrap mules, too.
Oh... and what is the law on self defense in Korvosa?" Jeorik grins, "I don't rightly want my blood spilt but I'm not looking to get myself hanged either."
"Then have witnesses, don't get caught by the Hellknights, and if you come to the courts, get a fair judge. Judges are laws unto themselves here, and the Guard's only marginally better."
"I already asked my questions."
Indeed, my good man. Well, the day doesn't grow longer. If there be nothing else, then?
Jeorik grabs some food, and then arming himself with sword and bow, he motions to Arando that he is ready to go.
"Let us be on our way then, good Arando. I shall follow at your heels."
She plops unto one large cushion, and pats the one next to her. "Its been so long, Kel. What have you been up to?"
“Oh, a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Mostly trying to stay out of trouble, to tell the truth. How about you, Cygney?”
“Well, as much as I’d like to say this is purely a social visit, I’m here because I have a need of someone with your, uh, particular talents.” Keliwyn leans in and lowers his voice, continuing, “I can’t go into the details, yet, but I can tell you that it involves an opportunity to recover something of great importance to the Mierani. This is serious stuff, Cyg, deadly serious. I can pay you for your services, of course, but we will have to keep you role quite to keep you safe. However, when it’s done I will make sure that . . . certain of our people understand that you played an important part in getting this done. So, are you in?”
“Alright then, what I need may seem odd, but you’ll need to trust me,” Keliwyn explains. “What you can help me with, is this,” he says as he opens his hand to reveal the drug stamp he received from Morten. “Or, to be more precise, a thousand of these.”
Looking into the street first, Arondo heads out for the scribe's premises.
"I guess you don't know much more of what's going on here than I do, Jeorik. Your uncle has done me some good turns, and I don't much like these enemies of his, but I'm not sure any of this is worth dying for, at least not for me. Maybe we can find out what's in this envelope, when we get there."
Jeorik grabs some food, and then arming himself with sword and bow, he motions to Arando that he is ready to go.
"Let us be on our way then, good Arando. I shall follow at your heels."
"I guess you don't know much more of what's going on here than I do, Jeorik. Your uncle has done me some good turns, and I don't much like these enemies of his, but I'm not sure any of this is worth dying for, at least not for me.
"I have nary a clue," says Jeorik, "but if my Uncle speaks true, I gather him to be a good man with unscrupulous enemies. A man should do what he can, especially for family, or so Erastil teaches us. Still, I'll see what I can do to keep you from dying."
Even as he talks, Jeorik is only half mindful of what he is saying. He keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword and tries to keep his attention sharp as to his environment. It would do neither he nor Arando much good if they allowed themselves to walk into an ambush.
It's Velvet .... tips his chair back
Sighing Darthen says, "I really need to get a room without a window. Can I get you a drink, or maybe some dinner from the kitchen?"
It's Velvet. " No thanks, I've eaten. You need more ham. Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours. Oh, you need more ale too." The halfling tips his chair back, places his mocassin shod feet up on the table.
"I overheard a little of your conversation with the boss. Both you longshanks really should learn to talk more quietly. I don't think he told you everything he should have. Don't think he meant any harm mind you. He's under a lot of pressure. He's worried about the Wrappers. They're a lot more aggressive than before, both in terms of business and being just plain mean. And they're a lot smarter. "
" I've heard just a hint, they've got "new management" , to steal Thalus' phrase. Gaedron Lamb."
"Gaedren Lamm! The crazy fool with the alligator? I know he runs that thieves guild, but I haven't heard about the Wrapper angle. Smiling, "Anything else you overheard that involves the players in my investigation?"
For the CrimsonDM
Inigo then heads for the library to investigate the curious symbol on Vertas' breastplate.
Thereafter, with the knowledge he now has, he deems it prudent to report to Morten the following tasks which Vertas has requested of him:
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.
And the procurement of certain obscure items.
A report Inigo will make in the evening.
Then he returns to Vertas to retrieve the appointment book so he can return it before it is missed.
The tasks outside, i.e auditor and ingredients, will be handled in the afternoon by Inigo personally.
Finally, in the evening and while making his report, Inigo will ask Morten for the ledgers.
"Gaedren Lamm! The crazy fool with the alligator? I know he runs that thieves guild, but I haven't heard about the Wrapper angle. Smiling, "Anything else you overheard that involves the players in my investigation?"
Velvet smiles. "Nothing else. Just watch your back. Gaedren's boys play very rough indeed." He gets up to leave. "Oh, you need more bread. Did you a favor there, it was so stale you'd probably have lost teeth eating it."
Keliwyn:
I’m assuming that like most people, Cygney does not know what Keliwyn really does, although she may have her suspicions.“Oh, a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Mostly trying to stay out of trouble, to tell the truth. How about you, Cygney?”
Cygney's reply is pleasnat but non-commital. Business has been good, everything is fine.
“So, are you in?”
She is on board. For the regular rates.
“Alright then, what I need may seem odd, but you’ll need to trust me,” Keliwyn explains. “What you can help me with, is this,” he says as he opens his hand to reveal the drug stamp he received from Morten. “Or, to be more precise, a thousand of these.”
Cygney stifles a laugh at the sight of the stamp. "How is that going to help anyone?"
Taking up the stamp she examines it while rambling, "The job is easy enough... Really, its a little beneath me... You could probably do it yourself, but a thousand will take time. Of course its risky. The Revenuers are as tenacious as Hellknights...." She looks up, brushes back a strand of long dark hair. "Kel, there's not much profit to this job. I mean, stamps are cheap enough. It'd have to be some incredibly greedy dragon-hearted bas___d to want to forge them. Why?"
Inigo:
Inigo begs leave from Vertas to attend to the other matters.
"By all means, " Vertas huffs. "After all, The Supreme Temple of Azmodeus, Bringer of Order and Properity was not built in a day."
Thereafter, with the knowledge he now has, he deems it prudent to report to Morten the following tasks which Vertas has requested of him:
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.
And the procurement of certain obscure items.
A report Inigo will make in the evening.
Then he returns to Vertas to retrieve the appointment book so he can return it before it is missed. "The elf and old man in the garden were not in the appointment book. Morten's factotum says this Garven has often visited without being noted in the book. Find out their business together."
The tasks outside, i.e auditor and ingredients, will be handled in the afternoon by Inigo personally.
Finally, in the evening and while making his report, Inigo will ask Morten for the ledgers.
Do we make it to Cygney Greenlake's? What do we find when we arrive?
Cygney stifles a laugh at the sight of the stamp. "How is that going to help anyone?"Taking up the stamp she examines it while rambling, "The job is easy enough... Really, its a little beneath me... You could probably do it yourself, but a thousand will take time. Of course its risky. The Revenuers are as tenacious as Hellknights...." She looks up, brushes back a strand of long dark hair. "Kel, there's not much profit to this job. I mean, stamps are cheap enough. It'd have to be some incredibly greedy dragon-hearted bas___d to want to forge them. Why?"
"Like I said, sweets, you just have to trust me on this. It's part of trading a favor for a favor with someone who is underwriting this little venture," Keliwyn replies, "but it'll be worth it. You'll see. So, when can I pick them up, and when can I take you to a nice dinner at that new place that everyone's talking about?"
At your pleasure then, give me your general plan, let me know if you want to RP anything in particular. I'll let you know if anything in particular finds you. :)
Jeorik, Arando.
You find this on your arrival:
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. Eight 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.
Keliwyn :
"For you, Kel, I'll do it. 5 gold and the dinner. It will be done in three days. But next time you've got to bring me some good work. Something like those invitations to the Coronation Jubilee a few years back. Nice detail, lovely paper, no real risk." She breaks off suddenly when the stairs squeak under the weight of someone climbing them.
Jeorik looks up into the gloomy stairwell and his mind conjures up the images of waiting assailants, just out of view. While he knows that it is unlikely the thugs knew where he and Arando would be heading, he decides to be careful anyway.
"I'll go first," says Jeorik, and drawing his sword he starts slowly up the stairs, ears and eyes straining for any possible trouble.
For the CrimsonDM
At your pleasure then, give me your general plan, let me know if you want to RP anything in particular. I'll let you know if anything in particular finds you. :)
"I'll go first," says Jeorik, and drawing his sword he starts slowly up the stairs, ears and eyes straining for any possible trouble.
Jeorik and Arando:
Inigo's chores:
Bring him the ledgers for the temple treasury.
Bring him Morten's appointment book, if he keeps one. done and returned.
Bring the lesser priests to see him one by one. "Tell them I am here to examine their orthodoxy and fitness for promotion." arranged. They will see him throughout the afternoon.
Find out who, if anyone sees Morten today. Morten's factotum, will be happy to give you a complete list tonight.
Find a trustworthy auditor from outside the temple. The Initiate who helps Owlen with the books suggests the regular auditor who goes over the books yearly. Others suggest some of the prominent businessmen who worship here. One suggests Abadar's temple, but pales and swallows hard at your resulting expression. Unfortunately Korvosa has no Yellow pages.
Procure 'ingredients'. From patrol you know many places where you can obtain this. The other priests are useless here. Of course they are in an obliging mood. You may order one of them to expand their horizons.
All in all, they are a cowed and subservient bunch.
Creak goes the squeaky staircase. That gets you to Cygney's door
Knock, knock, knock.
Keliwyn :
"For you, Kel, I'll do it. 5 gold and the dinner. It will be done in three days. But next time you've got to bring me some good work. Something like those invitations to the Coronation Jubilee a few years back. Nice detail, lovely paper, no real risk." She breaks off suddenly when the stairs squeak under the weight of someone climbing them.
Keliwyn's heart jumps for a moment when he hears the squeak, before he realizes that the chances of them being overheard are slim due to their lowered tone and location in the apartment. Nevertheless, he makes eye contact with Cygney, nods toward the door and quickly whispers, "Remember, for your safety and mine, silence is crucial in this. I'm just a friend paying a visit - no business."
He then loosens his blade and moves quickly to the door, and upon hearing the knock, he calls out in a louder voice, "I'll get that for your, Cyg," before opening it to see who may be there.
Arando waits eagerly/nervously as Jeorik knocks on the door.
"I'll go first," says Jeorik, and drawing his sword he starts slowly up the stairs, ears and eyes straining for any possible trouble.Jeorik and Arando:
** spoiler omitted **
Creak goes the squeaky staircase. That gets you to Cygney's doorKnock, knock, knock.
Arando waits eagerly/nervously as Jeorik knocks on the door.
Jeorik and Arando: spoiler 1.
Spoiler 2. Read this after spoiler 1.
He then loosens his blade and moves quickly to the door, and upon hearing the knock, he calls out in a louder voice, "I'll get that for your, Cyg," before opening it to see who may be there.
Keliwyn:
"Greetings, good sir," says Jeorik to the elf, sheathing his sword, "I am Jeorik Vandor, nephew of Dorman Vandor and this is Arando. My uncle has sent us with something for Cygney Greenlake. Is she in?"
Eager to practice actually speaking elvish, Arando says, in carefully pronounced and over-formal elvish:
"Greetings, sir, well beheld!"
Creak goes the squeaky staircase. That gets you to Cygney's doorKnock, knock, knock.
Arando waits eagerly/nervously as Jeorik knocks on the door.Jeorik and Arando: spoiler 1.** spoiler omitted **
Spoiler 2. Read this after spoiler 1. ** spoiler omitted **
"Greetings, good sir," says Jeorik to the elf, sheathing his sword, "I am Jeorik Vandor, nephew of Dorman Vandor and this is Arando. My uncle has sent us with something for Cygney Greenlake. Is she in?"
"I am more interested in your intentions than your names, gentlemen," Keliwyn answers. "While I don't involve myself in Cygney's (nodding toward Cygney) business, I am left to wonder why you would call upon her with your sword drawn, only to be sheathed when someone else answers your knock. She's a dear friend, and if you wish her ill, it will be ill that will be visited on you."
Still in elvish:
"Your pardon, please, sir, but we have been threatened and attacked today, and are wary of enemies. We are come on an errand from Dorman Vander and require the good lady's professional services. We wish no one ill."
"Greetings, good sir," says Jeorik to the elf, sheathing his sword, "I am Jeorik Vandor, nephew of Dorman Vandor and this is Arando. My uncle has sent us with something for Cygney Greenlake. Is she in?""I am more interested in your intentions than your names, gentlemen," Keliwyn answers. "While I don't involve myself in Cygney's (nodding toward Cygney) business, I am left to wonder why you would call upon her with your sword drawn, only to be sheathed when someone else answers your knock. She's a dear friend, and if you wish her ill, it will be ill that will be visited on you."
Not understanding a word of what Arando is saying, Jeorik answers for himself, "My apologies for startling you. I have been threatened twice already today and am perhaps overcautious. We are here on legitimate business however. We mean no ill to your friend."