Joy nods her head at Tabog's explanation.
"Yes, Mister Tabog. Nut and I will look after each other. I want to help, any way I can. I'm quiet, maybe that will help?"
*************************
"Lady Edgerton, you do good work for the poor. I'll help the others here, and we won't let you down."
Thank you, Anophth says. I still want to figure out who has done this. In the meantime, I believe having a connection with Mr. Dreen will be most beneficial to my pursuits.
I've temporarily lost my business venture with Father Gregory; but maybe his new connection will open up new avenues of profit. Keep the shop afloat while I investigate what happened.
Later with the party...
I have a favor to ask. I.. I want to keep looking for a cure for Father Gregory. But I don't want to abandon my shop while doing so. It's my life's work. I need someone to help run it while I'm working on this other project. I do have one person I trust to manage the store, but I need some workers in the shop itself. He says this last line while looking directly at Nutmeg.
Dramm nods along with Anophth at his proposal to accept Dreen as the group patron. For the first time, he speaks to Edgarton directly.
"I'm with Anophth. You talk about helping the poor. Didn't see you rallying anyone to help. You stood back just like the Brown Cloaks while that... thing carved up Gregory." Dramm's jaw clenches as speaks of losing Gregory, "You're suddenly interested now? Seems that something must be in it for you. Don't trust that. Typical noble. At least we know what a merchant wants. More reliable than politicians, lazy militia, and a zealot. Thanks for the silver. Almost makes nearly getting gutted for doing the guard's job worth it." He snorts derisively as he turns away, stuffing the coin into his pouch.
Anophth's proposal brings confusion to Dramm's face. "A kid running a shop? What's he know about..." A sharp look from Anophth cuts him off and forced him to reconsider. He then nods vigorously. "Smart kid. Bet he can count pretty well. Good with numbers. Probably talks as well as Bog and Anophth. Yeah. You can do that, right Nutmeg?" His round face smiles warmly at the boy.
Mayor Edgerton frowns when Dramm chastises her. "If things had gone the way I wanted them to, the full force of the Brown Cloaks would have been out looking for the missing townsfolk. Unfortunately, my opponents on the council sought to block my efforts. I am deeply sorry about what happened to Father Gregory and the others, though I know my words won't do anything to bring them back."
Nutmeg nods eagerly. "Yeah! I can do all sorts of math and stuff. Can I run Mister Anophth's shop, dad? Can I? Can I?"
Uruuna chuckles at Nutmeg's enthusiasm. "He may actually need an adult to supervise things. I don't have any shopkeeping experience, but I do sell baked goods for a living. Would you mind if I sold cakes and cookies alongside your wares, Anophth?"
Dramm doesn't even look back at the council woman's excuses for her inaction. He just gives her a dismissive three-fingered wave. "Doesn't bring him back, didn't do shit to save him either." Dramm mutters under his breath.
Imedren looks over at Tabog with nothing short of slack jawed surprise at the speech he gave. He then took note of how well dressed he was and felt a rising sense of embarrassment due to his normal street clothes.
He spent the next minute trying to find words to say and was again surprised as Dramm unleashes his verbal onslaught at the mayor. He doesn't say anything immediately and understands his anger at the resolution of the situation.
He did almost die earlier but perhaps that anger is a bit broadly directed. As Dramm turned away he shrugged his shoulders and stepped forward.
"Well now, that's certainly a problem for future efforts and there is definitely going to be a notable hole in the community now, but I suppose that's why you have chosen us to help. I must say though, there was at least one brown cloak who acted of her own volition. Sergeant Alyse certainly went above and beyond the call of her duty. I would like it if perhaps she saw some favor from you as well. I suspect a recommendation from the mayor would be a nice push to any promotions that could come up." he eyed her with a knowing nod. Then after a moment he clicked his tongue.
"Would you mind my asking who it is that seem so intent to keep the brown cloaks otherwise occupied?"
"Also, if we are to be this force acting for you, what rumors have you heard of this cult?"
"Wow! Tabog, that was... well that was something else you did back there. I had no idea... er well I didn't mean to presume, but I guess I did, it was a good speech!"
Imedren laughed at Nutmeg's enthusiasm and gave a smile at Uruuna's offered assistance.
"I can't disagree if he talks as well as you two he'll have a line out the door before noon day."
He then sighs a little. "I suppose in my spare time I can switch between speaking sermons from the old gods and taking up Father Gregory's place speaking on the New God. I may not know as much but I suspect one more god won't be too hard to not get confused with."
"I will see to it that Sergeant Alyse is properly recognized," Mayor Edgerton says to Imedren.
"My chief opponents on the council are Father Paulus and Ambrose Quick. They hate each other, but their shared enmity for me unites them. Paulus represents the Cult of the New God, but his influence has been more of a destructive one in my eyes. Ambrose is a businessman who runs a despicable brothel--the 'Temple of the Gilded Purse.'
"As for the cult, I have only heard a name that Inquisitor Randolfus has mentioned--the Brotherhood of Shadows. So far, we have been unable to determine any more concrete details."
I'd be very interested in speaking to Mr. Dreen, but after consulting with my colleagues, I also agree that it is somewhat selfish to only consider my business. My business will thrive as the city thrives, and helping the poor is the hest way to make the city as a whole thrive.
Therefore, I agree that working with you, Mrs. Edgerton, is the best path forward, both for myself and for Crossings as a whole. Plus, it's what Father Gregory would have wanted.
Dramm argues against Edgerton in their deliberation, but the group wears him down. Realizing he certainly can't pass up the opportunity with the rest of the group (and probably with some fast talk from the Goblin about the value of teamwork), his stubbornness yields and he agrees to work with what's best for everyone. It comes with no small amount of selfish muttering. He glares at the Mayor as Anophth delivers the final decision, but nods his agreement.
Despite his apparent discontent with Edgerton, he listens carefully to the information she has gathered on this "Brotherhood of Shadows". He eyes Randolphus from across the room when the name comes up. At the mention of Ambrose, Dramm's eyes slide instinctively to Anophth as if considering how the Goblin might handle a fellow merchant of "wares" with such different ethics. He does not speak to the Mayor, instead addressing the group.
"A Father and a brothel owner. How do they keep the Brown Cloaks busy? Don't seem like ones that would be commanding militia. Even stranger that Paulus wouldn't be looking for one of his own."
Randolphus is in his forties, and his formerly thick black hair is now receding and graying. He remains physically fit and wears a heavy beard, along with the black robes of his faith.
"They don't command the Brown Cloaks, but they have the ear of the one who does: Jon Crawley. Somehow, they always seem to be able to convince him to see things his way. Commander Rena is in charge of the militia, and she goes back and forth on which side she supports at any given time," Mayor Edgerton says.
"At any rate, I'm happy you have chosen me as your patron. If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."
Tabog nods at the mayor, accepting her words as fair. He smiles at Imedren, pleased at himself and appreciative of the praise.
"Thank you, I used to spend a lot of time around these folks. You learn to talk their language and and make demands so they think it's their idea. Their sense of pride always bites them in the ass!"
"If you think you can do then do it, bud! Remember to ask for help before you get overwhelmed, always be fair but don't let people push you around and give notice if you want to stop. That about covers the basics, haha."
Tabog gives NutNut a hug and ruffles his hair.
With your business concluded, you return to your lives in Crossings. Mayor Edgerton is true to her word, providing comfortable lodgings in one of the town's inns. She also provides opportunities for you train in various fields of study to hone your skills before she inevitably calls upon you for your next assignment.
Inquiring about somebody to help translate his brother's tome, Mayor Edgerton directs Dramm to seek out a council member called Ezekia. The youngest member of the council, Ezekia the witch is dedicated to watching out of the interests of the poorer citizens of Crossings. Her small hut abuts the lake known as Dark Waters, standing apart from other residences and businesses in the Tankards district.
Dramm's knocks on the door, and after a few minutes, it opens to reveal Ezekia. She's pretty, with pale skin, red hair, and bright green eyes. She wears a homespun black dress, a pointed cap, and heavy boots.
"Yes? Is there something I can help you with?"
Dramm is surprised by the youthfulness of the individual in front of him, but continues in his usual flat manner.
"Dramm Hayle. You are Ezekia, yes? They said you were the youngest on the council. More so than expected, that's surprising. Doesn't matter. I was directed to you by Edgerton after the events of Moore House. She said you can assist me in interpreting this." He speaks as fast as ever and without waiting for a response. Reaching into his cloak and presents the animal skin bound book. "I'm told he was good. A lot to study. Can you help me learn to read it?"
Ezekia scowls as she waits to get a word in edgewise. When she sees the book, though, her expression changes from one of annoyance to curiosity. "I might be able to help you. And I do owe Katrin a favor. Very well, come in."
The interior of the hut is cramped. Dried herbs and preserved animal parts hang on the walls, and a shelf is lined with books, scrolls, and writing materials. The witch clears off some space on a table and bids Dramm to open the tome. She spends several minutes poring over its contents, making thoughtful noises.
"Ah, yes, yes. Whoever wrote this knew his stuff. Friend of yours?"
He bustles inside and quickly lays out the book. It's written on pages that appear to be mismatched from sources, with some pages smaller or larger than others, of different age, or even a few that are just more animal skin.
"Was my brother. He's not around to translate it. You can read it? I can't. Only put together bits and pieces." He points to several different symbols and markings, "This one, I can tell it's a change in cadence. That one is associated with some form of motion. This one. I don't recognize this. It's a component? A calculation of something needed? Or is it an alternate output? "
He continues to mutter and point at different things.
Ezekia nods along with Dramm. "That's a measurement guide, telling you how much powdered bat wing to use for the spell. But your guesses were pretty good. You may not understand how to cast magic yet, but you seem to have a knack for it."
The pretty witch purses her lips and taps her chin. "Hmm. Okay, I have a proposal for you. I'll teach you how to read this book, as promised. But if you want to take things a step further... I've never had an apprentice before, but it might be nice to have somebody to work with. In exchange, I'd ask two things of you. One, that you only use magic to perform good works and to help other people. Power like ours should not be squandered. Second, that you pledge your services to me for a period of one year and one day. You'll be free to live your life as you choose, but if I summon you to aid me in my endeavors, you will answer my call. Are these terms acceptable?"
Dramm considers carefully, pacing as he weighs his options.
"Long service. Expensive. Moral implications as well. What's considered good? Which perspective? Many. My own goals may be considered good by some. No other leads. Life for knowledge. Yes. Acceptable trade." He turns to the Witch, extending an arm. His gaze locks to her green eyes and he speaks with purpose, "I will answer any orders for furthering your goals. I will perform with the intent of improvement for myself and others. You will own my services for a year and a day, to be called upon at any time. In return, you will help me decipher these works and provide further instruction in the arts. How shall I address you, Madam?"
Ezekia clasps Dramm's arm as they seal the agreement. "In a formal coven, I guess you'd call me High Priestess. But that seems a bit melodramatic, doesn't it? Ezekia will do fine." She makes a face. "Just don't call me 'Madam.' That makes me feel old, and we're probably about the same age."
She gestures for Dramm to have a seat at the table, then sits across from him. "Now, then, let's begin..."
Dramm nods respectfully. "Understood, Ezekia. You are clearly talented for one nearly my own age. I look forward to learning from you." There are a few seconds of silence as they seal their pact.
"... Are actually older and hiding your real age out of vanity?"
----
Ezekia focuses Dramm with a state that could curdle dairy. "I'd watch that loose tongue if yours if you'd prefer to keep it in your mouth," she says icily.
Anophth walks away sullenly. It was a rough ride these past few days, and he really wasn't sure what he was going to do. A part of him just wanted to forget the whole thing and go back to his shop. A part of him wanted to hide in a hope and never come out again. Maybe that's what happened to his old friend Cack.
Anophth spent as much time as he could walking to get some fresh air. His thoughts remained inwards, and he didn't notice when someone came up behind him with a club to the back of his head.
A friendly gift from the Rude Boys, the stranger whispered into Anophth's ear, as the goblin lay bleeding on the ground. He woke up hours later, clothes grimey from the gutters. Getting up, he made his way back to his home.
when Nutmeg and Uruuna showed up as his shop ready to be trained, his speech impediment from the assault was something he was already used to. It was difficult, but he spent the next few weeks showing them the ins and outs of the shop; how to acquire goods from the goblins at the landfill, how to make something sound better than it really was, how to keep inventory, and to add to an object to make it look slightly better. He taught basic math and arithmetic for keeping the ledger. When all was said and done, he was happy. The shop would be kept in good hands.
Anophth didn't profit this month. He blamed his inability to speak properly. That may or may not have been the true cause - but it's what he stuck with. Having Uruuna and Nutmeg there to help is probably what kept him afloat, even after having to pay his employees.
Satisfied with the outcome of the meetings Tabog heads to his new lodging with his son and settles in. He begins reaching out to the establishments that he planned on performing at, before his debut was interrupted but the events of the last few days. With Anophth watching the young boy he was free to meet and work as much as he wanted to. It felt good stepping onto the stage again, no matter how small. Being in and out of the bars again and adding a little bit to his bottom line by taking advantage of a few, drunker then most, privileged people helped him hone his skills as a Spalpeen.
His mood and general demeanor have noticeably improved since he began singing again. His ego, begin properly fed, has allowed him to refocus his efforts to bettering his well-being, training in combat and improving on his already substantial dexterous capabilities.
Tabog has made a point to often visit the various members of his new group. Inviting them to shows and involving himself in different aspects of their lives, if they let him. He forgot how nice it is to have friends, even considering the circumstances.
He enjoys bringing Nutmeg with him to have dinner with Imedren and Uruuna, seeing people in a healthy relationship is comforting and Imedren is a good role model for his son.
Watching Anophth teach Nutmeg new things, and seeing how excited he gets when learning, really made Bog feel proud. His boy was growing into an intelligent young man. He also enjoyed have the occasional battle of wits with the smooth talking Goblin, seeing how far he can push a debate or how many different ways they can improve on the description of an item that they're selling kept his mind sharp, it was the closest he has got to having "fun" in a long time.
He was happy to have Joy around more now as well, it's good for his son to have someone his own age he can talk to and play with. Too much time around adults seems to hinder the creative development of kids sometimes. It's always interesting to watch his son interact with the world outside of Bog's direct influence. Really seeing how he treats the people around him and finding him to be a kind young man was enough to put Tabog in a good mood for days.
Lastly Tabog made a point to spend time with Dramm, if only to better understand the fellow and his many quirks. He'd often play "Demon Lord's Advocate" and argue with Dramm about various topics in an effort to show him that there are many ways of thinking about any particular topic, none of them being "right". The high point of their interaction for Tabog was a combination of talking through some of the complex logic within his magic studies and, above all else, meeting the beautiful Ezekia. He was infatuated with the council woman as soon as he laid eyes on her and often tried to tag along with Dramm to visit her even though Dramm didn't seem to be a fan of him being there. "A potential distraction, inefficient studying" was his common complaint but Bog didn't care, he was satisfied sitting in the back of the room just watching her work, teach and cast.
"Truly breathtaking..."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
On the third or fourth "accidental" visit in which TaBog happened to be "In the area", Dramm was just admitted into the hut and setting up when TaBog began making yet another excuse to allow him to join in the lesson. Usually he ignored this, but this time when TaBog made his romantic arguments to stay Dramm instead let out an unexpected snort of laughter. Before he could stop his mouth he was already muttering "Might just not be her type..." to himself.
A look that could bleed a pig causes Dramm's face to pale and he very quickly silences himself and gets back to work.
The days following the meeting with Mayor Edgarton and her patronage were hard ones. Imedren's sleep was plagued with nightmares of the monster he'd seen and of much older problems when he didn't drink and his mind was always somewhat scattered as he came to terms with what he had dealt with. The loss of Father Gregory hit him hard and even though he had vowed to take the mantle of spreading the faith concerning the New God in the older priest's place, it was more difficult than he'd first thought.
The first days were scattered teachings as he recalled what he had went over with Gregory had spoken of before mixed with some more recent feverish study. It seemed as though many already knew what he'd been going to say and more than that, Imedren found himself readily throwing in lessons or thoughts concerning the old faith which did not go over well with the members of the cult. Some were polite but many called him pretender, and as he went back and forth ministering both the followers of the old faith and the cult, even harsher criticisms came at the idea of him being a converter.
Imedren quickly felt lost without Father Gregory's guidance and when one particularly outspoken member of the cult blamed him for Gregory's disappearance and broke up the gathering, Imedren was devastated and could no longer continue the service that day. His reputation plummeted and congregations were smaller after that and he found himself unable to keep many interested in his teachings. He would have found himself without anything, had Mayor Edgarton not been providing for him.
Between his bouts of study, nightmare induced sleep, and ridicule, he quickly retreated to drinking at Taverns more heavily. Imedren found solace when the day had ended and he began to go to taverns to study and drink. When he was away from his duties as a minister, he found that the common folk, particularly at the Fallen Soldier, would be more open and talk to him, some even going so far as to buy him drinks.
Other nights, he and Uruuna got to know more about their companions. Tabog and Nutmeg came over which helped keep his mind off things for a little while. He checked in with Anophth every now and again to see how the Goblin's shop was proceeding and became worried about him after his run-in with trouble. Though he was not skilled with medical studies, he thought a friendly face now and again might help keep the goblin's spirits up. Dramm however, was one that Imedren did not often have time to see. From the dinners with Tabog, apparently he and Dramm were apprenticing with one of the council members.
It gave him pause to consider that. With his recent failings and troubles, perhaps it might be a good time to try and discern what the difference between Father Gregory and Father Paulus were. So he began to attend Father Paulus's congregations.
One night while particularly drunk and more forthcoming with his troubles, tales of nightmares, desires, and anger he met a strange man with a foreign accent who claimed he had a solution to his problems. An elixir which would allow him to control his dreams and halt the nightmares. Imedren was dubious but craved a way to deal with such things so he accepted. It worked the way the man said, somewhat. Imedren had a state of lucid dreaming or so he thought, but there was also nightmare like quality to everything. When he awoke the next morning, he was somehow in his own bed though he didn't remember getting there. He asked around but no one remembered seeing the man who was now gone but Imedren felt a strange sensation as he remembered the odd things he'd dreamed of and could now do.
Uruuna threw herself into her new job running Anophth's shop. With Nutmeg as a capable helper, the halfling deftly handled the goblin's business while simultaneously pushing her own baked goods. The tasty scent of freshly made cookies and pies brought in numerous customers, and Uruuna made enough to live a comfortable lifestyle even as her husband was struggling to get by.
In between her shifts, she continued to hone her fighting skills through training and the occasional bar brawl. The tough-as-nails halfling woman was beginning to become a capable warrior in her own right.
With the money she saved this month, she purchased a set of soft leather armor for Imedren. "You're going to need some extra protection if you're going to be performing dangerous tasks for the council. I need you to come home to me in one piece!"
Dramm is surprised to have TaBog seek out his company during these weeks, possible ulterior motives aside. He is even more so when he learns of the thespian's return to the theater, as well as receives an invitation to TaBog's performances. He is seen in the audience confusedly thumbing through a performance schedule and observing TaBog in his natural environs. He even claps at mostly appropriate times.
TaBog's influence also brings Dramm along now and then to drink with Imedren, Anophth, and Uruuna. As they begin to talk and learn more of each other, Dramm shares that he is a newer arrival in the city, having only been here a couple of months. It seems he hails from the more rural edges of the area, and came to learn about his brother's manuscripts from more educated magic users. It seems he'd been having some trouble finding a wizard willing to help interpret the book due to his very modest means. He had not expected the magic arts to be so expensive. Dramm expresses distaste at learning of Imedren's devout (if troubled) faith, and consistently debates the man on their beliefs over ale. He expresses muted concern at Imedren's difficulty sleeping, and curiosity at a sudden change in demeanor one night after his chance encounter with the mysterious stranger.
He also checks in on Anophth now and then. It seems Dramm enjoys the Goblin's company, and even learns a card game or two from him while at the taverns. He comes to see the shop Anophth brags about to no end, perusing the unusual items that sometimes pass through his stock. He doesn't speak to Uruuna or Nutmeg as much, but does nod to them when he sees them.
During one of the group visits to the tavern, Dramm asks TaBog about his unusual eyes.
"Been wondering for a while now about your eyes. Are they natural... or maybe some sort of mutation? I've heard about marks appearing on the bodies of the tainted." He is watching the actor intently.
Ezekia seems slightly annoyed by Tabog's presence during Dramm's training sessions, but the witch does her best to studiously ignore him unless asked a question directly.
***
Father Paulus's congregations are filled with fiery rhetoric and ranting about the dangers of sin. As Paulus would tell it, drinks, drugs, gambling, and even sex for pleasure are mortal sins that leave an indelible stain on one's soul! One must live a pure and chaste life or risk eternal damnation in the torments of Hell! He seems to harp on his doomsaying, making for a much different tone from Father Gregory's teachings of kindness and helping others.
***
After three weeks, you receive a summons from Master Dreen. You meet with the wealthy merchant in his office, his face a cold mask of fury. A younger man sits nearby, sporting a few fresh bruises on his face.
"Thank you for coming," Dreen begins. "Mayor Edgerton has told me of your exploits at Moore House. I am in need of capable people such as yourselves. The Rude Boys have kidnapped my only daughter, Candace. They sent me a note listing their demands, along with a lock of her hair. They want me to leave 100 silver shillings in the alley behind the Old Fishery brothel at midnight, promising to return Candace tomorrow morning if I comply. They claim they will kill her if the Brown Cloaks get involved."
Dreen sneers. "That's just as well. I don't want her kidnappers arrested. I want them all dead. Kill the Rude Boys, and bring my daughter home, and I'll be happy to let you keep the ransom money--all 100 shillings."
Anophth enjoyed Dramm's company. He seemed to be the only one who came by to purposely see him and actively make extra time for him. Which seemed wrong. Imedren and Bog were both clearly better people, so why would Dramm do such a thing?
It must be that Dramm is missing something from his life. His brother! That's who he's missing. He's trying to fill the void. Well, goblins know a thing or two about family, so why not? If Dramm needed that wound healed, Anophth would be happy to help. Make the world a better place. So Anophth put in the time, hung out with him at the bar after hours, and even taught him a few card games. Because that's what friends do. Over the weeks, Dramm seemed to have at least as much a positive effect on Anophth as Anophth was trying to have on Dramm, and by the time that Master Dreen made his offer, Anophth really was starting to see Dramm as a friend.
ToBog was another story. The odd man seemed to be enjoying Anophth's company, but every time he tried to get into a verbal spar, which Anophth typically enjoyed, felt like he was making fun of Anophth or taking advantage of his impediment. A month ago, this would have been a wonderful bonding of friendships, but now it was driving them further apart.
Anophth struggled with maintaining his relationships with people while he was injured, and was starting to become prone to taking it out on others, whether they were responsible or not.
If this didn't heal soon, it would take Anophth down a different path in life than he originally intended.
Fear washed over Anophth's mind when he heard about the meeting with Master Dreen. No, no, no, no, no! It's too early! I.. I still have trouble speaking. How can I talk my way into his graces like this?!
Even his employees would have noticed, as Anophth became a bit less happy, a bit more quick to be negative, a bit more critical. As if he wanted the shop to be perfect to make up for his impediment. It didn't help, and it even drew away a customer once. It didn't help him make a profit.
But once the meeting happened, and the large sum of money was offered, Anophth's fears all washed away. Kill some low lifes? Get revenge? This was something he could do that didn't rely on talking.
Y-y-y-es. I-I a-agree. W-we w-will e-e-eli-elimm- kill the R-Rude B-boys. Th-they d-did th-t-this ttto mmm-mmm-mmmee. he struggles out. He points to the wound on his head that caused him to have trouble speaking.
Dreen nods at Anophth's eagerness. He then gestures to the young man beside him. "This is my daughter's paramour, Phineas Phrent. He was there when the Rude Boys took Candace."
Phineas nods. "We were leaving Liquid Smoke on the border between Coins and Gavel when five hooded men attacked us. They gave me a savage beating as they grabbed Candace. Alas, I didn't get a good look at them. Please, allow me to accompany you. I couldn't stop them from taking my beloved, but I want to do what I can to help get her back!"
Anophth nods in acceptance for the young man to join them. P-p-please show usss wh-where.
D-do we h-have any other clues t-to the Rude B-boys l-locati-tion? Or-r should w-we j-just ambushsh them i-in the alley?
W-we will ne-eed supplies. N-nets, t-traps, d-dogs, anything that will s-slow, distr-ract, or k-kill.
Dramm has been silent in the office, listening to the master merchant's offer. He nods at the man's apparent anger. He even raises an eyebrow at the offer of such a large profit to be had for disposing of the thorn in Dreen's side.
"I didn't expect you to take so easily to being a hired killer, Anophth." Dramm says at the Goblin's enthusiasm. "You offered to turn them over to the cloaks just a few weeks ago."
As he talks Dramm moves forward and takes hold of Phrent's face with his left hand. Turning it roughly to both sides and exploring the bruising and damage, judges the severity.
"Did you consider the possibility that this man sold your daughter to the Rude Boys? Kidnapping such a powerful person's daughter doesn't come easy. Takes a lot to encourage a gang to do something so stupid." He says to Dreen. "Seems risky, doing your dirty work. The Brown Cloaks won't approve. You must want this resolved more quickly than the likely hangings they'd receive for such a high profile kidnapping. Why bring outsiders? How would they know the Cloaks are involved before the raid?"
Dramm releases Phrent's face.
Imedren scoffed at Dramm's questions.
"Seems reasonable enough to me. Brown cloaks didn't do anything to them before at the cultist house, now they're getting bold. Anophth here took a savage beating himself and now he he wants payback. This man's daughter was taken and he wants blood. Can't imagine what man wouldn't do anything to get his daughter back. I know I've been wanting some payback against them for that myself."
Dramm looks unconvinced, and does not hide it from the would-be employer. He continues to eye Phineas.
"Brown Cloaks weren't involved before because it wasn't anyone important. Just meat from the Grievings. I wouldn't put it past them to kidnap or rob other residents of the area, but this is above and beyond. If you were leading the Rude Boys, would you want this much attention on you for only 100 silver shillings? No, that's not a valuable enough reward for an entire gang, and they haven't done anything this big before. This is asking for your thugs to be cut down, arrested, and hanged. Years of a focused adversary from the council hounding you. What makes them stupid now?" Dramm then nods his head towards Dreen.
"This man is wealthy. Very wealthy. If he just wanted to save his daughter, there are far more effective mercenaries than us to hire in this city. Orc mercenaries could be hired for a lot less, and they're much better at killing. He wants quiet for a reason." Though Dramm's eyes are still watching Phineas, they narrow in suspicion.
"Not to mention something like this occurring so soon after the Moore House. We know nobles ordered the Rude Boys to guard Moore House. Something made them come out of hiding when they should be laying low to avoid an inquisition from Randolphus. It's obvious that there's more to this than a simple kidnapping. Chances are Dreen here knows more than he's saying. Or this one does. If we're doing this, then I'd like to know what it is I'm actually fighting. After we kill the Rude Boys, it seems very likely their employer will take notice." Dramm crosses his arms.
"I would never dream of harming Candace! I love her!" Phineas protests. His injuries look legitimate to Dramm, and it seems as if the man is being earnest in his recounting of the events that transpired.
"I believe him. He would be a fool indeed to come to me if he had any culpability in her kidnapping. I'd be sure to stretch out his suffering," says Dreen. Th merchant turns to Anophth. "You may have the use of whatever basic equipment you require. An ambush at the dropoff location seems the most likely way to find out where my daughter is being held."
"Just as long as they don't use a patsy who's job it is to move it to another drop off point. But we wait, hide and see if they come themselves. Likely they'll send a handful of them to retrieve the money then head back, in which case we take them."
He looks to Dreen. "Would this happen to include, armor, shields, lanterns, swords, and crossbows?"
Dreen shakes his head. "I don't have the clout to get you armor and weapons on such short notice. Lanterns, yes, along with any mundane items you might need. And again, those items would just be on loan."
Llets g-go lllokk at the all-ley.
With that, Anophth leaves.
You head to the Tankards district, which includes the docks jutting out over the Dark Waters and the businesses and homes huddled along the lakeshore. The area is redolent with the smell of dead fish, burning oil, and sweat. Its steep streets climb up toward the rest of the city, and are each set with a deep channel that carries water and waste to the lake below. The buildings nearest to the lake serve the fishing industry, and include fisheries, taverns, and brothels. Farther up, one finds the homes of those working in the fish trade, along with a few shops and restaurants.
The most famous brothel in Crossings is the Old Fishery, a three-story building where courtesans—neither attractive nor altogether clean—serve the fisherfolk. The alley where Dreen is to make the ransom drop can be seen from a number of nearby locations, including the windows in the Old Fishery overlooking the rubbish- strewn street, and the rooftops of nearby buildings. The crate described in the note is marked with an “X” in charcoal.
Dramm grumbles as they leave the office, but agrees and follows Anophth. The deal is struck and it seems his concern for the revenge hungry Goblin outweighs his mistrust of authority. He shoots a quick look of concern to the others though.
The Fishery fills Dramm with an odd bit of vigor. He looks at the rubbish strewn about and the piles of crates and barrels with keen interest. He nudges Anophth,
"Hard to find truly good spots for a trap. This is one of them though. We'll have to be careful about the vantage points though." he kicks over a stray plank as he looks about the alley, "The entrance has enough rubbish to hide a ground net with some counter weights in the crate piles. The rooftops can let us drop it instead if we want. We can hide above and flank them, but we'll need someone on the ground for the runners. If I can pry up some of these stones and cover the hole in filth, I can make Ankle Biters. A Grab Trap inside the crate might work too, if he reaches in blindly... though he won't be able to use the hand anymore. Any other ideas?"
He continues to look over the area as he waits for the party to answer.
Dramm doesn't find anything interesting or useful,
Bog has remained quiet for most of the negotiation and traveling time. His mind was running a similar course to Dramm's, wondering why this lowlife group would take on a high profile job like this.
Unless they're being backed up by the patchwork's masters... Or perhaps there this is a distraction for something more impactful effect on the city else where... Government espionage... A trap set for us, as if they knew we would be the ones called on...
There were too many variables for him to consider so he resigned to making sure the group takes precaution and during their excursion, hopefully he can increase their chances of surviving.
"I'm going to go look around for every way someone can get to this spot, through the buildings or other passages connected around. We might see if we can get something with a bit of heft to drop on him or them. I'll be back in a few."
If no one needs anything, Tabog walks off and finds the entrance to the nearest building overlooking the alley. He peers inside, if he can, to see which building is might be and what kind of obstacles he can expect to find. Satisfied with his finds he'll head off to find a secluded place and disappear into the void, leaving behind a fluffy tomcat. The cat bounds its way around the buildings surrounding the alley seemingly looks for something.
The nearest building is the brothel known as the Old Fishery. Peering through the shuttered windows, Tabog catches a few glimpses of its patrons engaged in tawdry activities with the employees. It's a three story building, and it offers plenty of sight lines to the alley. The narrow alley itself has an entrance on either end, but is otherwise unremarkable.
A thorough search of the surrounding region uncovers several heavy crates and barrels around the docks, perfect for dropping on unsuspecting passersby.
Which end l-lookks l-like the one th-that will b-be usssed? Anophth ponders. We sh-should sent r-rig t-t o block that ssside wh-when they enter. Th-then we attttack f-from the other side. B-block them.
W-we nnneed to have o-one obsbbbserver to chase th-the one that runs. W-we must let one rrunn. Th-that wwilll telll us The hideout.
Dramm looks up from a some bits of metal he's keenly inspecting.
"I agree one person should be on the ground. Need someone close enough to move quickly. Maybe two. The rest can be above with a net and ranged."
"The one that runs will tell others that we're coming. No element of surprise when we enter their den. Rude Boys home turf. That's more dangerous. Bad to hunt in a predator's home when he knows you're there." He observes the ragged edges of the scrap metal. "I have an alternative. Hand trap. It snaps shut like a bear trap. Can be made to snap shut when a blocking material is moved. Very painful, hard to remove without help from someone else. I can make one."
Dramm looks about for more scrap metal as he speaks, "Put it in the box, conceal with hay or refuse. We don't spring the trap until his hand is in it. He's not likely to escape alone. Too painful. We net and kill the rest. Then we tell him that if he wants to save the hand, he better tell us what we want to know. I'm certain the hand would be ruined otherwise."
There's a grimace on his face as he considers the plan and addresses the group. "It's going to be ugly, but it will likely work and we keep our advantage. Comes with risks. He may lie to us. I'm relying on fear and the promise of keeping the hand to make him talk. Course he'd probably lie to use if we just caught him too. Thoughts?"
I-i-i l-like it. I hhhave a sc-sc-scr incantation that will hellp. Diguise. We look lllike oonnne of the survivors, and rrrun back to the base.
Bbet-ter if we disguise an underling and intttterogggate a llleader.
Tabog seems to appear out of nowhere as he walks up to the group quietly, having heard the last bit of conversation.
"It's a tough call but I know what I think my role would be in either case. If we let one run I can trail him, more or less unseen I think, and gather that information. If we end up using the disguise spell I don't mind doing the interrogation but I don't think I'll volunteer for the role of the disguised. This is what I've found about the area..."
Bog relays the information he's gather about the area, buildings, paths and nearby drop-able items.