Tairin, Paten and Farrokh wait for a short while for two litters to be hired and brought to carry them to the temple district.
Samir says nothing but watches them prepare to leave, his finger tapping his sword hilt thoughtfully.
He then turns to Talar and Bjoern.
"So - we seek to find the one who spies upon us, eh?"
His eyes flash darkly and a strange smile twists his lips.
"Well and good; yet before we begin I would know as many details on this wretch as you can both provide. The more knowledge I learn, the greater ease we shall have in finding him, eh?"
"So - we seek to find the one who spies upon us, eh?"
Talar takes a sharp breath, exhaling. [b]"Yes. We noticed him when we were out on the market..." Talar describes the incident in detail, including how the man noticed that Talar had seen him but Tairin hadn't, the fact he had followed the others before, and as best a description as he can give. "The House of Abu Khafi may be the best place to start."
Bjoern looks at Talar and shrugs.
"Let us start asking around for anyone seen an Ikuna man? Maybe they are rare here? What is Ikuna?" He adds, because he feels at the moment a bit at a loss.
"Maybe we can start to walk through the city to give me a feeling for it."
"The House of Abu Khafi may be the best place to start."
Samir turns and focus at what Talar has to say and listens to it all.
You both note at once that his somewhat casual and arrogant attitude has been brushed aside almost at once. It is as if he has put it aside and is now behaving with an almost intense, focused professionalism.
”If we journey to the house of this Abu Khafi directly we must first have a reason to be there; we cannot simply arrive without a purpose, else we may prompt those who watch us to suspect our motives.”
"Let us start asking around for anyone seen an Ikuna man? Maybe they are rare here? What is Ikuna?" He adds, because he feels at the moment a bit at a loss.
Samir shakes his head.
”No; to wander the streets asking such questions would also draw attention to the public that strangers are seeking him.”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully, then answers Bjeorn’s comment.
”Ikuna is a nation to the south, their people are the worst sort,” he says with a growl.
”They eat the flesh of the dead and they stalk the coast seeking for ships to capture and plunder, taking the living to their tribal houses in the south to sacrifice to their dark gods.”
He shakes his head.
”They are not native here and if they wandered the streets they would likely be noted with ease no matter what their gear, for their skin is not fair like yours,” he says with a nod to Bjeorn ”nor is it the bronze color of those who live near these lands; instead, it is dark like the Shoma bodyguard that traveled with the foul Lamurian priest we slew.”
"Maybe we can start to walk through the city to give me a feeling for it."
Samir frowns again in thought.
”If we travel through the city we must move with purpose; we must appear to have a plan, somewhere we are going with a direct intent.”
”If we seem confused or uncertain of our plans then those who observe us will assume we have little knowledge of this city and take us for easy marks.”
He glances around.
”We must move forward and behave as if he know exactly where we are going and what we are doing. Make eye contact with no one and wear on your face an expression of tired annoyance so that those who see you assume you are on your usual duties and are so accustomed to them that it would not be worth their time to incite you to some foolishness.”
He sighs and shakes his head.
”Nay – it seems our best option is to adhere to Talar’s initial plan. Let us journey again to the house of Abu Khafi; yet before we arrive we must have a reason to get there.”
”When we reach the house what shall we tell them is our business?” he asks them.
Bjoern listens to Samir´s words and shakes his head.
"Give me an enemy and I will fight it. But this ... I will bow to your wisdom." He scratches his head.
"Well maybe we can move into some quarters to shop for our house.
Maybe the smiths quarters, the cloth makers quarter, the market for food stuff!"
"So we just need a good excuse to be where we are." He nods. "Since we are seeking an Ikuna man, could we not be honest? We can claim he is a wanted man, that he is suspected to be involved in dark business and there are people who would talk to him. Unless we think the house of Abu Khafi may be backing the man, in which case..." Talar pauses, not having considered that possibility before. "I suppose force isn't an option. Maybe we could stake out the area and see if we can find the man by chance?"
Bjoern listens to Samir´s words and shakes his head.
"Give me an enemy and I will fight it. But this ... I will bow to your wisdom." He scratches his head.
"Well maybe we can move into some quarters to shop for our house.
Maybe the smiths quarters, the cloth makers quarter, the market for food stuff!"
Samir's eyes light at this suggestion.
"Ah! Shopping for our house is a wise plan, I think," he says with an eager nod.
"So we just need a good excuse to be where we are." He nods. "Since we are seeking an Ikuna man, could we not be honest? We can claim he is a wanted man, that he is suspected to be involved in dark business and there are people who would talk to him. Unless we think the house of Abu Khafi may be backing the man, in which case..." Talar pauses, not having considered that possibility before. "I suppose force isn't an option. Maybe we could stake out the area and see if we can find the man by chance?"
Samir nods slowly.
"It could be done, yet we do not yet know who is allied to this Ikuna. If we nose around too much then others will say we are seeking him..."
Then he shrugs.
"But what of that? The Ikuna is a barbarian; if he discovers we seek him I do not think that he will use subtlety and guile to hunt us - he shall assail us directly and our combined skill should be more than enough to deal with him directly."
He looks at Talar and Bjeorn.
"For now we should take Bjeorn's advice and go first to the house of this Abu Khafi as vendors."
"While we are there we shall inform the master of the house that we are seeking to buy certain lotus plants to intoxicate Paten and my sayida."
"This is a reason to buy at his house and, further, it will make them feel our friends are easily manipulated by the hallucinogen of these plants - better for potential enemies to overestimate your weaknesses."
"They will think our friends are weak and that can be used against them later," he says with a grin.
At this he then nods his head in assent and the three of you turn and head for the house of Abu Khafi.
As you journey you notice that Samir's movement is more serious and grim then when he entered your house with his new gear and arms. His pace and movement is somewhat bored, yet he moves with an intent purpose as if he is traveling to a particular location and has no time for the cries and calls of vendors hawking their wares.
Only his eyes, which flick intently to his left and right as you walk, indicate that despite his effected movement and style he is clearly very focused on where he is going.
"We are seeking him." Talar growls in frustration. All this subterfuge and misdirection gave him s headache. "Fine, let's go shopping. We need a new chair anyways."
Talar stares as the devious plot is crafted. He's a fighter too. And with that kind of thinking, he's the kind of man to kick you between the legs before cutting your head off. I wouldn't want hum as an enemy.
As they begin moving Talar does his best to emulate Samir, trusting how the man carries himself in this situation.
"We are seeking him." Talar growls in frustration.
"Aye, but we don't want him to know that, now do we?" he asks somewhat rhetorically.
As the trio makes their way to the house they notice that a single, shadowed figure is flitting through alleys and seems to be following you.
You cannot be sure of much, only that this figure is covered in robes and a long, dark cloak and a hood covering much of his face. You are not sure, but now that you see him it's possible that you could gauge his movements with a Knowledge Geography Roll.
In any case, Samir also sees him but intentionally ignores him and pauses to point at some vendors exclaiming loudly with enthusiasm; but his voice instantly drops to barely a whisper that you can both hear.
"I see him as well; let us ignore him and arrive at our destination. When we exit we shall see if he is lingering and, if so, lead him to some dark alley and then deal with him adroitly."
He then laughs loudly and claps you both on your shoulders and staggers between you, as if he is drunk and requires your aid.
Anyone watching him would assume his antics and ramblings are consistent with how a drunk would behave.
"Come on lads, let us get us some lovely western girls to dally with, eh?" he calls out with a loud voice.
The three of you reach the house of Abu Khafi and you barely notice the shadowed figure during the rest of your journey. Once you reach the doorway he moves directly down the street as if he was merely passing the house, but how long he has been following you it is clear this is a subterfuge.
You enter the house and meet the armed guards who insist that you surrender your weapons before entering.
Samir shrugs and does so, passing over his sword and long dagger.
He then turns to look at you...
Talar suppresses his instincts to whip around and confront the man, instead following Samir's lead. He gives a small look of surprise their friend plays the drunkard, then plays along with an awkward smile.
At the House he bristles for a moment before remembering the last time he refused to give up his weapons. With a sharp inhale, he continued to trust Samir. "Let me for up my horse first." Talar goes outside and ties up Ramul (a pointless exercise due to how well trained he is), but uses the opportunity to stash the mystic dagger he's recently acquired. With that done, he returns and hands over his mundane weaponry.
Bjoern looks at the guard and crosses his arms over his chest." I will wait here!"
Samir leads you in through the second doorway and you and he come into the low, wide area that tables are set up around a room and a bar is staffed by a large Khazistani man who is currently playing a game of cards not unlike solitaire as he waits for someone to order something.
He glances up at you but says nothing, waiting to see what you will order.
Samir glances at you -
"Well, what do you wish to do?" he asks you, curious to know what your plan is.
The barkeep glances up from his lazy distraction at Talar with a smile that seems a cross between a sneer and a look of boredom.
”You wish to partake in lotus flowers? I can offer milk of the poppy as well if that is to your taste?” he says with a direct, albeit bored, tone which is – nevertheless – prepared for business.
Samir glances at Talar and rolls his eyes.
”Fetch us both some of your malted barley drinks; meantime, I am seeking some companionship. How much do you charge for a woman?” he asks.
The man turns a scowl at Talar.
”Depends – are you seeking a one with experience or one you want to break in?” he asks.
Samir takes out his pouch and drops it on the counter and the chunk of coins draws the attention of the barkeep and his eyes widen and he pulls out two mugs and slams them on the counter and turns and takes a clay pitcher and puts it under a jug on the wall and a thick, brown beverage gushes into to it and slowly fills it.
Samir slides the strings to the pouch and open it and his fingers begin to slide coins into the light.
”What sort of whore are you seeking?” the barkeep prompts.
”I am new to this place and I wish to sample something homegrown,” Samir responds ”do you have any local stock; and I prefer her to be as inexperienced as possible – I like to break them in myself,” he says with a leer.
He looks at Talar.
”You know the sort of girl I am looking for; how old do your people need to be to give me what I seek?” he prompts.
Bjeorn, you watch your companions enter the room as you stand on the street waiting for their return.
After a few minutes you notice a company of men striding toward the same entrance that you are lounging against. You recognize a Susrahite and two Khazrajite’s with them and a tall man with a heavy, red beard draped over his broad chest – obviously a Tharagian – who pauses as the others bunch behind him to stare at you with a sneer.
”Do ye smell that lads? It smells like fetid wolf hide…” he says with a heavily accented Khazistani as he studies you for a moment, clearly baiting you.
The other men do nothing but spread out somewhat, chuckling at the sally and curious to see how you react.
Although the casual conversation about prostitution, which could potentially mean his sister, prompts him to anger, he was prepared for this. Instead of letting the anger run rampant he contains it in a nodule in his mind, setting it aside for later. There will be a time and a place. Which is not right now. "Depends who you ask. Some say once they start budding, fifteen give or take." Talar does his best to remain casual, eyes drifting over the drinks behind the bar as if considering what else he may want. He has to stay disinterested, uninvolved, or else the ruse would be foiled. "Although often age doesn't line up with experience, does it? He's wanting something homegrown without experience, have anything new from the area?"
Looking at his prey Bjoern stretches his neck once and twice showing his huge bulging biceps in the process.
He sniffes and replies."You are right. Go and wash your self!"
Before the other has a chance to speak he continues with utter conviction.
"If we fight, I will maybe loose. Maybe. But your are dead."
** spoiler omitted **
The bartender rubs his chin thoughtfully as you sip your drink.
It is a thick, heavy brown drink - clearly beer, but it is much richer and more thick than many of the alcoholic drinks you have tasted.
"I care little for young ones; I prefer the older sort - someone with some experience myself..." he mutters, then glances at the coins.
Then he shrugs.
"Well, every man has his preferences."
"The house of Abu Khafi does have its share of whores here, yes; but he does not keep young ones - he prefers the older, skilled ones, too, I suppose."
"Have you tried the temples of Belit-lil? I hear the folk that worship that eastern whore-goddess have acolytes that young, both male and female," he adds.
"I know of a temple that has such folk, I could direct you there, but I cannot recall the name right now..." he says with a pause, glancing at the coin as Samir is busy taking a large, slow drink of the beer.
Looking at his prey Bjoern stretches his neck once and twice showing his huge bulging biceps in the process.
He sniffes and replies."You are right. Go and wash your self!"
Before the other has a chance to speak he continues with utter conviction.
"If we fight, I will maybe loose. Maybe. But your are dead."
The red-headed man from Tharag Thule returns your stare with equal animosity.
"By Rán's teats, straw-head - we shall see," he growls.
Rán is the dark goddess of the drowned men. To die of drowning is considered to be a horrible/dishonorable way to die; her name is also associated with theft/plundering and you suspect that he is petitioning the goddess to suggest he is about to do dark/violent things to you.
Without bothering to draw his weapon, he swings his fist toward you and potentially catching you by surprise.
"So, some older ones. Anybody new? Sometimes the inexperience of being a whore is as good as being young." He says as he takes another sip. He nods to Samir, reaching over and opening the coin pouch. He pays triple the price of the drinks. "Anybody like that lately?"
** spoiler omitted **
"So, some older ones. Anybody new? Sometimes the inexperience of being a whore is as good as being young." He says as he takes another sip. He nods to Samir, reaching over and opening the coin pouch. He pays triple the price of the drinks. "Anybody like that lately?"
Samir watches the coin get counted out and glances around the bar to make sure the few other lounging patrons are not overly interested in this conversation.
"What I hear you saying is that virginal types, or at least ones with little experience, are likely to be found taken in as temple acolytes at some of the shrines or meeting places of Belit-lil, eh?"
"And further, you maybe know the place where we can find such folk without having to spend our afternoon wasting time by heading to the wrong place?"
He glances sidelong at Talar and turns his gaze back to the bartender.
"Fair enough; as you do not have the sort we seek here, perhaps the name of the best option is one you can share now? You are a busy man and have spent much time with these questions, thus we shall not overtax your day by making you bring us the balance of our payment for these drinks if you know the name?" he prompts.
The bartender scoops up the excess coin quickly and nods.
"There is a bath house near to hear; it is not a proper temple, but they often take younger sorts and assess them. The inductees are divided into two sorts of classes - the first class has little aptitude, perhaps a fine body and face, but naught else - these are often sold or given to some of the lower end temples and trained at the means in giving a partner pleasure with a higher degree than the usual trollop might be; they are then sent to walk the streets and take coin from those folk who can afford their talents, for they are more expensive than the common whores, yet many pay the price for their skills are worth it."
Samir sighs and taps his fingers impatiently and the bartender hurries on.
"The second sort is the kind that possesses some intelligence and wit. This sort is trained in the ways of massage, song, dance - perhaps cooking, languages, the arts, poetry - that sort of thing... In addition they are required to learn the ways of giving physical pleasure, as they do serve Belit-lil; but their training is obviously more advanced."
"Now, this second sort is generally much more expensive than the first; only well-established folk can afford them and often lease their contracts as trained courtesans from the temple itself. Having such a courtesan that can know languages, speak intelligently in mixed company and provide other diversions than a simple night of lust is something that many powerful folk wish to have, but do not have time to cultivate on their own - this sort requires more training and fetches higher prices because of it; as such, they are not often leased until they gain proper experience."
Samir says nothing but gives you a look with a slow nod of his head, likely based on the background of your sisters education.
Meanwhile, the man misses the look but shrugs a bit helplessly.
"You have been good patrons to this house; I remember you from before and my master spoke highly of you, and you know how to take care of friends," he says placing the coins in the pouch "and I do not mind telling you that going to the place that new clients are chosen for their skill set is your best bet for a fresh girl, for they are routinely studied for a few weeks to determine their best value."
"Yet I did not recommend this option only because I did not think it will suit your friend; such decisions are often made at a younger age than fifteen summers - further, such initiates into the temple will not likely be available for use."
"The temple priestesses and priests wish to observe the young rather than lending them out..."
Samir leans forward, the garb he wears - gear that a local knight or minor lord; including the gold on his sword hilt - is clear proof that he is no mere thug; and the bartender already knows, or guesses, that as you are both in favor with Abu Khafi that you are not the sort who is poor, which is likely why he is being so forthcoming with the information.
Samir seems well-aware of this and smiles brightly at the man.
"The tales you tell are known to me; I served as Chief Haras to the High Priestess of Belit-Lil in Susrah and am even now here on duties for her," he says with a nod.
The man's eyes narrow; it's clear he guesses Samir is not being wholly frank with him. After all, why would the "Chief Haras" be on personal duties so far from home when a subordinate could do the job for their leader?
Of course, the bartender has no way of knowing what this is really about; for Samir's bluff was good enough to convince him that he at least knows about the nuances of Belit-lil. Furthermore, he cannot deny the gold or gear and seems willing to play along with the bluff if it means further reward...
"Of course, of course, sayid," he says, using the word for "noble lord" which is similar to Samir's sayida that he often uses for Tairin.
"Go then to the temple for such initiates; it can be found in the Foreign District; you must go to the temple called "The Moonflower". There you will find those sorts who select and study new initiates."
Samir nods his head, clearly satisfied.
He then glances at Talar to see if the man has any further questions or comments.
[dice=KnowRel]d20
[Dice=INi]1d20+2
Talar watches the exchange silently, but when the bluff obviously goes awry he can't help but chuckle. "Hey, thanks for the talk. Make sure nobody else knows about it, eh?" He slides over another two drink's worth of coin with a sharp look. Then he nods to Samir, finishing his drink and getting ready to leave.
** spoiler omitted **
Bjoern takes the first hit with a smile.
"You hit like a rodent. Now go and run before we call the crimson painter!"
Bjoern takes the first hit with a smile.
"You hit like a rodent. Now go and run before we call the crimson painter!"
Taking a step back after the hits, Bjoern draws his shield and whirls it left and right.
As this won´t do very well Bjoern will attack with his shield next round.
The last time drawing steel it went south very fast and I wanted to prevent this.
So in a nutshell yielding the iniative.
Two questions:
Shouldn´t the damage should be lower, due to damage reduction?
Second Shouldn´t Power attack and strength boni be halved with the offhand?
Taking a step back after the hits, Bjoern draws his shield and whirls it left and right.
[dice=Dazzling Display]1d20+13
As this won´t do very well Bjoern will attack with his shield next round.
This will be a fight that will also be very different from all the others so far, because this is now a one on one match with a crowd. Something he has trained all his life for. So he will use a very different fighting style this time.
The man seems a bit startled by your action with the shield and rasies his fists and takes another two strikes against you, though this time without Power Attack as he is Shakened -
Feeling the fist hit him in the chest, Bjoern does feel the sting. But alas much of the force has been lessened by the hard rings of his armor.
In return Bjoern slams the shield fully into his opponent, while using his combat expertise to make him a worse target.
In return Bjoern slams the shield fully into his opponent, while using his combat expertise to make him a worse target.
The villain swings back from your attack, weaving just past your shield and laughs in scorn.
"Is that the best you got, Strawhead?" he barks out contemptously as his friends laugh and hoot at your efforts.
He then steps up and swings again. This time, without his shaken condition and he is therefore able to do his full damage with Power Attack...
At this time the lads besides him laugh and cheer and there is a small crowd gathering.
As you conclude your dealings you hear the sound of cheering and a general commotion coming from outside the doors to the building.
One of the lads comes rushing into the main bar.
"Oye - there be two Northmen outside brawling in the streets. I be taking odds on the red-haired brawler by three to one on the blonde one..." he calls out to those in the tavern.
The two other patrons get up and head to the door.
Samir turns to Talar -
"Blonde haired Northman? Come on, I wager our friend got into a bit of trouble," he growls then dashes to the door guards.
"Give me blades," he barks out at them and the two men take a moment to pass over his blades.
Stayed outside and still got into trouble. Talar rushes to his weapons and heads outside.
Stayed outside and still got into trouble. Talar rushes to his weapons and heads outside.
Bjoern looks at the fist and shrugs.
"I have had worse."
Bjoern looks at the fist and shrugs.
"I have had worse."
The Red warrior laughs and moves in hard against you but before he can attack Samir rushes out and jerks out a bolas and throws it at the man..
Talar scowls at the scene and the state Bjoern is in. He reaches for his heavy blunted arrows, firing two off at the big northerner. "Enough, this is over!"
Cursing the ancestors of the fallen enemy Bjoern bashes his shield down, then takes a step back.
The bolas dropped the other Northman and as he lay on the ground trying to untangle himself...
The man growls in his throat and forces himself to his feet...
As he lumbers to his feet his mates draw closer but as they do Samir and Talar move to aid Bjeorn -
Suddenly, you hear a shout -
"The authorities are coming!" someone calls out.
I moved 5 foot away from him, so that he can´t stand up and attack me. Because you can only do a five foot step if you didn´t use your move action for moving. And standing up is a move action, as far as I know. That was the reason for me stepping back to deny him an attack this round
Seeing the brute stand up Bjoern swings his shield down again, hard.
Seeing the brute stand up Bjoern swings his shield down again, hard.
He then moves back from your friends to get between him and his friends, glancing around the street somewhat nervously...
The guy seems oddly nervous about the approach of authorities, as do his allies.
You do not know, but you suspect, he's less nervous about being caught be authorities specifically, but he's more concerned that the authorities might be mixed up in a fight that could draw attention to the area directly outside of the house of Abu Khafi...
Keeping his shield high Bjoern spits out a small glob of blood.
"Let us meet again, at a place of lesser intrest. And I will pay back you strike for strike!"
Oh Ursa, I have to bring you an offering of blood and meat. I must have neglected my prayers, to be so ashamed in battle!
Keeping his shield up, but more defensively he does not make any more hostile movement.
Talar narrows his eyes at the assailants, but Bjoern seems content to let the situation drop. "Flee before your hot temper causes you to experience a hot knife."