Mitchell decides to spend the night alone up in the Attic, bidding
good night to his comrades and trudging outside into the gusting wind and
blowing snow to get to the entrance to the upper floors of the Manor.
Talliree, Hob and Himo spread out thier bedrolls and blankets by the kitchen fire,
the whole room filling with warmth, comforting old smells coming out of the wood and stone as
it warmed once more.
The storm outside beat against the walls, rattling shutters , but inside, in this room, the
winter outside could be forgotten.
A little bit of smoke makes its way away from the fireplace, and as Hob glances over at the
dark entrance to the area behind the bar, he's sure he can see a figure outlined in the smoke.
The figure's pose is one of disapproval, arms crossed as it seems to glare at Hob's animated
broom. After a moment, the smoke clears and so is the figure it revealed.
Making his way up through the dark rooms, he finally reaches the Attic,
his breath puffing out into the coldness of the air.
Fortunately, all of the fireplaces still had firewood placed nearby, so he
got to the task of getting a fire going. The firewood was nice and dry, so
posed no objection to taking a spark from Mitchell's flint and steel.
Soon a nice crackling fire warmed the room, the majority of the smoke escaping up the
chimney.
The wind outside batters the walls, causing the old wood to groan and complain, the shutters
rattle, but Mitchell finds much to like about this cozy room at the top of the Manor.
Checking the two old beds in the room, he finds the sheets and blankets musty but free of vermin.
Sighing and a little annoyed Hob opens his palm flat towards the broom and then lowers it toward the floor. The broom starts to lean against the wall. He whispers addressing "Alright, you weren't giving out with the regular cleaning so we'll stick a pin in that spell for now. Best we learn to get along." Hob waits for a moment before lying back down.
Himo continues to sleep, content in the warmth.
Talliree sleeps soundly though Hob's encounter. Curled up in a fold of her blanket is Mr. Whiskers, who watches Hob with his beady eyes.
Mitchell rises with the sun, and wakes up feeling great. He does his morning prayers, then pulls all the sheets off both beds, and whistling, heads down the stairs to rendezvous with the others.
"Good Morning Friends. I hope everyone had as restful sleep as I did"!
The morning is crisp and bright, the storm having blow itself away across the nearby sea.
On your way downstairs, you paused on the third floor landing...sure that the door to the library had been closed the evening before. Taking a quick look before continuing downstairs , you found a number of books on the floor...all nursery rhymes and children's stories.
The windows are frosted as you look outside , those who slept in the kitchens try to stretch out the aches and pains of sleeping on a hard floor. Outside, there is little snow left on the streets, all blown away by the still gusty wind.
Hob starts working on the breakfast "Was it today we were going to negotiated about those loans?" He yawns into his hand.
"Nnn. Too early, go back t'sleep," Talliree mutters from where she's curled up on the floor near the fire. Only the very end of her braid can be seen from the cocoon of blankets.
Mr. Whiskers scurries over and up Hob to see what the gnome is cooking. The aura he gives off is one of judgement and pessimism.
"Why yes I did, Mitchell! A fine place and it will only get better through our efforts!"
As the friends greet the morning, they hear the front door open and a pair of heavy boots trudge into the taproom.
Soon , the owner of those boots, Renaer appears in the doorway, "Good morning! I went by the Griffin to see if you'd stayed there, then came here! How was your first night in the 'Haunted Manor'" he asks with good humor.
"Hello, Renaer! A fine, cosy sleep, I must say!"
"Say were any of you up on the third floor reading last night by any chance? There's children's books strewn about the floor"?
Himo turns to face Mitchell with a look of surprise on his face.
"That sounds odd. I was not upstairs last night in any case."
Talliree's greeting to Renear is a tossed pillow aimed at his face. She sits up, grumpy, groggy, and glaring.
"Down here the whole time. Probably th'ghosts," she grumbles as she rubs sleep from her eye.
"One of them didn't like artificial magical constructs cleaning up and while everyone was gone I heard one moving around... it will take some adjustment. But you can't argue it's got character and will be a great ice breaker!"
"Oh well no harm I guess. I slept like a log up in the attic. Say did any of you notice a laundry tub anywhere. I'd like to wash this mildewed
bedding before sleeping tonight. A little lye and a drying in the fresh breeze should do the trick".
The big man looks around the room from behind the pile of bedding and notices Renear. "Top of the day sir. And what brings you out this early"?
Renaer raises and eyebrow at the bedding in Mitchell's arms, but doesn't comment. Instead , he answers Mitchell's question, "Why, to deliver you to Mirt , of course. He's expecting us at 9 bells, so if we leave soon....but, please, finish your breakfast."
Talliree's eyes open wide as she realizes that she was supposed to get up early today. She moves in a blur as she gets up and starts getting ready.
Mr. Whiskers, meanwhile, saunters up to Renaer and climbs up onto the man's shoulder, nodding in greeting.
Himo checks over himself. He nods. He knows he looks well.
Hob nods "I new it was today, we'll be spending so much time in the city I'll need to invest in a water clock when expenses allow."
"Ah yes. Now I remember. Is there by any chance a Laundry where I might drop off this bedding for cleaning"?
Renaer notices Himo preening on the other side of the room and laughs, "Don't concern youself too much on appearances, Himo. Ol' Mirt is an retired adventurer and doesn't put much weight on how good you look! "
He then turns to Mitchell, "Hmmm, to be honest, I don't really have much to do with such things...but there must be a few in the neighborhood...."
He plucks up a piece of toasted bread, takes a bite and declares, "Come now, eat! Your money awaits! "
"Let's get going!"
"Sounds good... so what you're saying is there's a potential untapped market for getting laundry cleaned?"
Renaer rubs the back of his head, as he considers Hob's question, "Well now, I don't know about that. What I meant was, my servants take care of all of those concerns for me."
Then , seeing that all had broke their fast, he claps his hands with enthusiasm, "Come! And bundle up , it's the coldest morning of the season out there!"
With that he leads you out into the cold, crisp morning air, the kind that catches you deep in your lungs, and stings the skin at the tip of your nose. The occasional gust of wind makes the walk through the city even more unbearable. Still, the windy night has scoured the streets clean of snow, making the uncomfortable walk easier than it could have been.
Still, he hurries the group along, and some twenty minutes later comes to the gate of a small estate. He pushes the gate open, commenting, "He's expecting us and I don't want to wait another second out here!"
He leads you up to a decent sized mansion , knocks on the door, then enters, ushering you inside as a gust of cold wind hits your backs.
Stamping his feet and chuffing his sides, Renaer calls out, "Mirt! Mirt! We've arrived....where are you , my friend?"
From within the mansion, you hear a voice call out, "In the study! "
Renaer nods, and with a motion of his hand , dismisses any notion of you taking off boots etc, "This will be quick..."
He leads you further into the mansion, plainly decorated, until you reach the study.
Here, all of Mirt's adventuring history is prominently displayed; preserved monster heads , weapons and curious items adorn the walls and display cabinets.
The man himself is seated at a large wooden desk. He looks up when you enter, and motions you to come closer.
"Ah, Floon's Saviors! Come, come. Now , I like to get to know those I do business with. Renaer has told me much about you, but second hand information is still second hand informationa, " he says, looking apologetically at Renaer.
"But first, let me tell you about myself. As you know, I'm known as Mirt the Moneylender. I was an adventurer myself some years ago, and to be honest, I was quite successful at it," he says, gesturing at the momentos and surrounding mansion, "Now that I'm retired, I found I was having trouble finding things to spend my money on...so I decided to start lending it out to like minded individuals and groups, funding expeditions, research , that sort of thing. "
His piece said, he leans his chin on one hand and waits expectantly for each of you to introduce yourselves....
Himo looks at the items on display appreciatively - and appraisingly.
When Mirt asks, he answers.
"Name's Himo Liadon. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mirt. We are the new proprietors of Trollskull Manor and we are looking for funds to fix the place up, better than it was. We have heard that you are the man to speak to on that score."
Mirt smiles, "Yes, yes, I know all about the Trollskull and why you need my money...I wanted to know something about you..."
Damn. He wants actual *details*.
"You did ask that! I have been told that I have a good eye for people. I would agree with that. I back up those close to me, as far as they need."
And not a word of a lie in there too!
Talliree is the last out the door, bundled up so much that the only thing anyone can see of her is her wide eyes. Mr. Whiskers curls up between one of the folds of her scarves, with naught but his cute little eyes peeking out. She hardly has any trouble keeping up and when they do arrive at Mirt's she's not even winded by the brisk walk.
She is awed by the memorabilia of a lifetime as they walk through Mirt's home and lags behind the others not really paying attention to much of anything. It isn't until she nearly trips over poor Hob that she even realizes they have arrived at their destination.
"Sorry Hob! I wasn't paying attention," she apologies quickly, bending to help him up then realizing she has a problem. "I seem to have trapped myself, otherwise I'd help you up."
Assuming that Mitchell found somewhere along the way to drop off the bedding, he joins the others just as they enter Mirts residence. He is impressed with the value of his collection... as well as their historical value.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Sir Mitchell Cloudkeep of Amn. I am protector and sword arm of Waukeen, and look to forward his presence in Waterdeep. Hopefully we'll be able to establish a long, and mutually rewarding business relationship".
Persuasion.
Mirt nods at Himo's 'non-answer', and smiles at Mitchell's response. He then steeples his fingers and awaits answers from Hob and Talliree...
Noticing Mirt's eyes on her, Talliree stands up straight and tries to wave, but can't wiggle an arm free for that either.
"Ah! Hello! I'm Talliree and this is Mr. Whiskers, uh, what was the question," she asks innocently.
"Oh, I'm the muscle of the group, kinda... Mitchell's got a better frowny face. I like to talk and sing and dance, but I can't really do that last one at the moment since I seem to have tied myself up. Mr. Whiskers here helps keep me straight, but don't make him mad, he's got a mean streak!"
Mr. Whiskers gives Talliree a look then kinda nods and shrugs as if conceding her a point. He gives Mirt a low bow before scurrying down and over to make a more formal introduction.
"Oh, don't worry, he won't hurt nothin'! Unless you got some bad poetry. He can be a real snob about poems."
"Sorry Hob! I wasn't paying attention," she apologies quickly, bending to help him up then realizing she has a problem. "I seem to have trapped myself, otherwise I'd help you up."
Hob takes a half step forward. "I have the opposite problem sometimes I pay too much attention to the wrong thing." The halfling man beams up at her.
Hob waits for the others to answer as he looks around the room. "I'm Hob Tealeaf, I'm a wizard focusing in divination magic. I'm trying to unravel arcane mysteries. I'm working on a few possibilities, for example if everything goes well with the tavern some day I think I might make an extension to it using extra dimensional space using a lab."
"I like to problem solve, for example there was this nice elf woman who was complaining that some woods are being chopped down to fuel the creation of books. So long story short I came up with a longterm plan for sustainable forestry in the area that I intend to employ at some stage, Sir Cloudkeep really thinks its got legs. But I think it would be best to get some hands on business and management experience before tackling something that big."
Mirt claps his hands once after Hob finishes his introduction, "Excellent, excellent. Thank you , it helps to hear a person's own opinion of themselves...and their Mouse!" he exclaims, glancing with humor at Mr Whiskers.
He steeples his fingers again, and looks at each of you over them, "Now then, ever since that lazy dullard Durnan bought the Yawning Portal, I've been wanting to have my own tavern! Now you're telling me I can own one without any of the glass-cleaning and chair-stacking that old fool is spending his days with? Well, count me in!"
He places his hands palm-down on his desk and leans forward, "Here's my proposition...I'll invest in the Trollskull Manor! I'll give you 1200 dragons to fix the place up. You give me 60% of your ten day profits until the initial investment is paid off. After that , 10%. " he offers, then he gives Mitchell as shrewd look, and says, "Nay, I like you....Make it 30%, then 5..."
Pleased with his magnanimous offer, he settles back in his chair and asks, "What say you?!"
"Of the gross profits. If we went with net profits in the early turbulent days of running a business we might not have the biggest profit margin compared to our initial high overheads and unexpected costs then we might end up turning a profit on paper but with the repayment be running a net loss. This could have a snowball effect."
Hob holds up his hands "I'm just trying to protect your investment and stake in the tavern. We want to optimise the utility of the investment to ensure a solid foundation for the business."
"Definitely net profits.", emphasises Himo.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Talliree wisely keeps her mouth shut as she is utterly confused by the negotiations.
Gross? Net? What do they even mean when it comes to money, other than one's icky?
Sounds like a generous offer, and I like you too". He then turns to Hob And Himo. "It sounds like you two are good with the details. As long as Waukeen gets a fair share I'm happy to leave it to you. Are you sure you don't already follow the tenets of Waukeen"?
Mirt smiles at Hob, Himo and Mitchell, "It is generous , isn't it!" he says, sending a wink Talliree's way, before facing the more business minded once more.
With a wave of his hand, he says "The details are yours to work out, with a devotee of Waukeen on hand, I'm sure everything will be on the up and up!." he states, then fixes Mitchell with his appraising gaze, "Follow the Tenets...no, but I had a friend...you knew him Ren. Remember Vek?" he asked, Renaer nodding the affirmative, "Well, Vek was an Initiate of Waukeen and every time we set up camp in some gods-forsaken place, he'd prattle on about this or that Tenet. So some of it must have stuck!" he finishes with a laugh.
He stands up and leans over the desk, arm outstretched to shake on the deal...
"I am game!", as Himo looks about to see how his friends react.
While not as elegant as he would have liked Hob will write up a fair and straightforward contract.
Talliree looks a little confused, but nods.
Mr. Whiskers gives a grudging nod as well, far better versed in finance than the elf and thinking they would be unlikely to get a better deal than this one.
"Well if you are interested I could spend some time going over some of our beliefs. You might find them... insightful... For now, do you have any recommended folks we might contract to assist with the construction and cleaning? Perhaps some of your associates"?
Mirt pulls back his hand and shares a look with Renaer, "Right, you want this all legal, I can understand that!"
He looks over Hob's contract, makes sure that his terms were outlined correctly , then with a flourish signs the bottom of the document and slides it over to your side of the desk alongside his quill and inkwell.
He smiles at Mitchell's offer, "Perhaps...perhaps! " then at Mitchell's question on construction etc, he holds his arms out and offers the following advice, "The guilds in this city are powerful, backed by the Lords. Any work , supplies etc you need for the construction of the Manor must be done by a Guild! If they find you up on the roof fixing shingles...oh, there'll be hell to pay! Hell meaning more and more dragons as they'll fine you this way and that! Now, that doesn't mean you can't do some work around the place...cleaning, a bit of painting, that sort of thing, just nothing that would cut into any profits a Guild could realize. Now, Ren's described the work needed and I agree the 1200 dragons I'll be providing should cover the work, materiel and most importantly, the Guild fees needed to secure the workers! "
He takes a deep breath and continues, "The Guilds will most likely be sending representatives over tomorrow or the next day, to collect fees and examine the work to be done. Don't worry they won't gouge you, their fees and such are tightly controlled by the Lords, Ren's estimate will hold up. "
He then takes another breather as he watches each of you make your mark on the contract....
Talliree makes her mark with some difficult, needing to wiggle some fingers free of her cocoon of doom.
Mitchell signs with a flourish, and even takes his signet ring, and inks it, marking it on the page as well.
"Well then I guess they're naught to do but wait for them to arrive".
Himo reads over the page, nods, then signs his name with a deft flourish.
After all has signed, Mirt slides the contract over towards Renaer, "Be our witness, my friend!"
Renaer smiles and picks up the quill, dips it and signs with a flourish in the spot reserved for him.
Mirt then takes up the contract, examines it once again, then sets it down to dry. Then ,with clap of his hands, he grin and motions you to accompany him. He leads you all over to a door cleverly carved into the stone of one wall.
In the middle of the door lay a metal handle, beside that an ornate lock. Mirt fiddles at his vest for a moment, before producing an equally ornate key. He slides it in and turns it....and audible clunk and be heard from within the door.
Opening the door, Mirt reveals a number of cubbies, in many of which, lay simple metal and wood coffers. Some have paper tags tied to them with string. Muttering to himself, Mirt uses a finger to flip tags over , until with a satisfied murmur finds the one labelled "Trollskull".
With a muscular heave, he pulls the coffer from its cubby and lugs it over to his desk, "Be kind and shut that for me ?"
Procuring a key-ring with a multitude of rings, all with string and tag, he flips through them until he finds one also labelled "Trollskull". Detaching the ring , he deposits the key-ring back into a pocket, and proceeds to open the coffer.
Lifting the cover, he reveals the gold dragons that lay within, "1200 gold dragons....Make sure you spend it all on one place!" he chortles at his little joke, offering the key to any who would take it.
Himo nods approvingly.
"You were ready, of course. I am happy to seek a place to spend that coin!"
Himo reaches his hand out for the key.
Hobs signature is small and spidery.
With some effort Hob pushes the door closed again as requested. "I still think while the place is being refurbished we could look into some adventuring work in case of unexpected fees."