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The soft candlelight flickers over Imesah's face as she faces the group assembled before her. In it's waning glow, both kindness and concern reveal their presence on you're mentor's features. While some of you have met, and even worked together in the past, this is the first time the entirety of her menagerie has been gathered in one place. The weight of that fact weighs thickly in the air.
Imesah lets out a low, soft breath. "My friends, you have all proven yourself capable of more than I've dreamed. But I fear the time we've had for quiet contemplation and private studies is rapidly drawing to an end. I've no doubt you're up to the tasks ahead, yet readily admit my trepidation at putting you in such risk."
She pulls out a map of Magnimar. Laying down colored ribbons at various points, she continues. "The way I see it, the biggest threats to Magnimar are threefold. The Sczarni, The Nightscales, and the Skinsaw Men. The Gallowed are among the most violent of the Sczarni gangs, and they've a new leader pushing them to even more extreme means. The Nightscales have been stable for so long complacency with their presence is the biggest danger they present. The bloody Skinsaws are the deadliest, but also the best hidden threat."
Quinton poured over the map as if memorizing it before asking "Lady Imesah, perhaps we should start with the Gallowed. They'll likely prove the easiest to defeat, and it should make for a good introduction for our group's efforts."
Leaning heavily on his weapon, a large single bladed bearded axe with a dark dark green shaft and a polished head, resting his chin on the butt of the shaft, Grattfaulk looks between the map, Imesah, and Quinton nodding in agreement that the Gallowed is a reasonable first group to go after. "If there are no objections to going after the Gallowed, the next question is how to go about it. Do we cut the head off the snake or do we burn them to the ground and salt the earth?" he says with an amused grin, figuring that everyone might prefer a more subtle approach.
Leaning over Quinton, Mr. Armature studies the map.
Doctor, do you think messing with the Sczarni first is truly the best course of action? Perhaps with their compliancy, the Nightscales might be a better target? Just a thought sir."
Horatio steps back so as not to crowd his friend and associate.
"My thoughts were that we could take out the Sczarni first as a way to let Magnimar know that we exist. They should be easier to deal with then, say, The Nightscales. I would be curious to hear why you think that we should attack the Nightscales first."
"The Nightscales are complacent because they are so well established and secure in their power. No, I doubt they should be our first move..." The diminutive fellow had been sitting atop the back of a couch against the wall, aimlessly picking his teeth with a tiny, needle-like blade. As he hops down, he tosses the blade into the air before walking to the table and mounting a nearby stool. He gives a nod to his sometime-companion Mr. Armature.
"And Dr. Butler, while I hate to contradict you, I would caution ever using the word 'easy' when referring to anything Varisian. That said, the Varisian commoners living in Rag's End have little love for the gangs that both give them a bad name and make them live in fear. The Sczarni are a fractured lot, and the Gallowed are an especially vile group."
Looking over to the newcomer, the half-orc tribesman, he pauses as the dagger he tossed lands tip-first on the map, square in Rag's End. "But taking just the head will do little. Trust me, I've tried. There is always another. We will need to be precise, and work our way through the gang, while endangering as few of the people of that neighborhood as possible."
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"Both approaches have merit." Imesah says softly. "Some things to consider. While the Nightscales are entrenched and, as you say complacent, they are also far-reaching, perhaps even exerting influence in Magnimar's political bodies. The Gallowed, while less entrenched and organized, are firmly rooted in the Varisian culture. Striking them down publicly and loudly may send a signal to other Sczarni, but it may also send a signal to the Varisian people- an unwanted signal. I would take care to balance acts of violence against the Sczarni with acts of kindness to the people of Rag's End, let them know you're not just out to bash some Varisian head. While the difference may be obvious to you, the history of Varisians in Magnimar is... complicated."
"I have located a few of the Gallowed's strongholds and hideouts." She says, pinning three green ribbons onto the map in Rag's End and the Dockway district. "And one guidlhouse I am sure the Nightscales use for meetings." pinning a blue ribbon in a large building in Beacon's Point.
"What information, if any, do you have on the Skinsaw men?"
The young lady had lingered back from the others, absently twirling a lock of hair as she listened to the others. "The Sczarni seem to hold a strange role within their people. They protect their own, as much as any criminal truly does, yet bring ill will from the outside with their crimes against others. Likely, their own kin live in at least partial fear of running afoul of them. Perhaps if we could find the honorable figures within the Varisians to bolster up and support as we work against the Gallowed and the other gangs, we could drastically improve the lives of all of those who live in Rag's End - Varisian and others."
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Aden and Lina, you can decide which of these those rolls applied to.
Everyone trained in these skills may make rolls for each. {lease indicate which item you are rolling for. You may roll any indicated skills you are trained in for each item (for instance, you may roll Society, Underworld Lore, and Religion for the Skinsaw men if you’re trained in all three.)
Only read the spoilers you’ve achieved, of course.
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Green Ribbon #1
This ribbon in Rag’s End is “The Copper Pot”, a cheap eatery known for its questionable “Wanderer’s Stew” said to have been continually brewing-with new ingredients being added by many patrons due to the restaurant’s policy of reduced pricing for any customers bringing in fresh vegetables, meats, or spices to add to the pot.
The Copper Pot is a known hangout for Vorris “Dog Ear”Valtonnin, a lieutenant of the Gallowed known for running a rather violent version of a protection racket in Rag’s End. Dog Ear commands slightky over a dozen toughs. Dog Ear, a Varisian Half-Elf, earns his epithet due to his sharp hearing.
Dog Ear’s men have had a few scraps with the Night Scales and the Copper Pot is considered neutral territory for those looking to parley with Dog Ear. Dog Ear has been paying side tribute to the slumlord Jaijarko.
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Green Ribbon #2
This ribbon marks ‘The Sodden Circle”, a group of oft-flooded, squat buildings in Beacon’s Point near the shore. Once used as storehouses, these buildings were abandoned when their owners left Magnimar after ruinous flooding destroyed most of their wares.
The Sodden Circle is run by the Gallowed Lieutenant Sashia “Silvertooth” Gallepsi. Silvertooth’s thugs- about two dozen in total- run dockside operations for the gang and supplement other lieutenants’ efforts when extra muscle is called for. Silvertooth carries silvered weapons- a response to rumored gang warfare with a wererat sewer gang.
Silvertooth’s troops have of late been trying to make inroads into the Washside Wringer’s territory- an effort on the brink of outright gang warfare. There are rumors floating that Silvertooth intentionally started the fight with the sewer wererats in order to have some of her people infected in order to strengthen them in the upcoming fight against the Wranglers.
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Green Ribbon #3
This pin is placed firmly in the Impound Yard. Abandoned ships are kept here by the official harbormaster for one year before being auctioned off.
The leader of the Gallowed, Magnus “Magpie” Delanie, commands an army of brutes numbering in the dozens from the relative safety of the Impound Yard, The Yard’s protective walls, access to the sea, and shifting inventory give Magpie layers of protection, and his influence over the Harbormaster gives the gang unfettered access to most of the Docks District. What hold he has over the Harbormaster other than the threat of violence is unkown.
Magpie oversees much of the activity in the Docks Districtm but has active lieutenants named Dog Ear and Silvertooth operating in the Beacon’s Point District. Magpie recently sent troops to war against the Tower Girls, another Sczarni Gang, which operated out of the Underbridge District.
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Blue Ribbon
This pin is placed in the Shipbuilder Guild’s building. The Scarnetti, one of the noble families of Magnimar, own and operate the guild. Rumors have circulated for years about the Scanetti’s involvement in crime, but no Scarnetti as every faced any form of justice if this is the case.
The Scarnetti are rumored to provide “custom built” ships, designed to the maker’s specifications- a provision often taken advantage of by smugglers.
The Night Scales have leveraged their long, deep connections with the smuggler community to gain permanent influence over the Scarnetti’s shipbuilding guild. The leader of the Night Scales in this area is known only as “Pan”.
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Skinsaw Men
The Skinsaw Men have been committing murder at seemly random for decades at least. Skinsaw men kill with “war razors”. About three years ago, there was an uptick in the frequency and prominence of these murders, as several wealthier Magnimarans felt their razors. These patterns ended about a year after they began.
The Skinsaw Men were tracked by a semi-famous investigator named Garryck during their murderous spree. Garryck tracked them to a sawmill in Kyver’s Islet called the Seven’s Sawmill. The guard discovered a grisly scene at the mill; almost a dozen cultists in strange masks made of human skin, and the investigator, all dead. A blood trail leading from the mill to the river indicated the investigator’s murderer managed to escape.
The Skinsaw Men likely worship Norgorber in his murderer’s aspect known as Father Skinsaw.
Father Skinsaw’s faithful believe that a perfect series of murders will result in the return of the murderous god’s power to Golarion, making them capable once more of casting Divine magics.
"Well whichever group we decide to go after first, I think we should get to it before it gets worse...right doctor."
The half-orc stands and twists his neck until a series of loud pops can be heard.
"Some group is going to be getting a much-deserved spanking!"
"That does make the most sense, my good Mr. Armature. Perhaps we should put it to a simple vote?"
"Agreed, I vote Gallowed," Grattfaulk says decisively, getting straight to the point.
Lina leans forward over the map, looking at the many points of interest as she mutters to herself. After several long moments of thinking she speaks more clearly, evidently addressing her colleagues. "all pose a threat, and all will need to be dealt with in due time. The Skinsaw Men are cloaked in more mystery and intrigue than the other two and will likely require a great deal of investigation. The last time the cult was fully active it claimed the lives of multiple nobles, and caused quite a stir in high society. The sleuth Garryck brought down the cult at a sawmill on Kyver's Islet. But it cost him his life, and at least one got away..."
Crossing her arms, she leans back. "I know little of the Nightscales, but as for the Gallowed, they are made of at least a couple subgangs. This fractured nature, and their fights with other gangs, makes them a bit more obvious for our first move. So long as we are cautious. That's where my vote lies."
"What say the rest of you?"
"The Gallowed have my vote as well!"
Lore-Underworld,G1: 25
Aden chuckles strangely as the others cast their votes. With a shake of his head he pulls his thin blade from the map then looks up, "Look's like its off to Beacon Point for us, cause I'd be happy to take a crack at the Gallowed. Their true seat is through the harbormaster, who their leader has his claws dug into firmly. But there's a lot to deal with before him. The Copper Pot in Bag's End is a good place to start. One of their thugs, goes by Dog Ear, he's a worthless piece of dung that can be found at that establishment."
He places the blade against his lip, tapping it lightly. He then looks over to the shadowed corner of the room, where a lithe figure leans back in the darkness. "Oi, elf, you've been silent this whole time. Perhaps a thought from you on the matter?"
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"The Copper Pot may be a good beginning indeed. I believe the gangs see it as a neutral place, and you may be able to gather some information there. Dog Ear isn't well liked among Rag End's populous and they would probably welcome a bit of correction to his style of thuggery." Imesah observes.
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The Copper Pot sits almost squashed between two other buildings, the smoke from its chimney spewing even through the gentle rain that falls. The buildings to either side are both shops- one sells seafood in the raw and the other various supplies useful to sailors and fishermen. Across a narrow street, a larger building serves as a flophouse, bathhouse, and possibly brothel, depending on who you ask.
Activity at the Copper Pot depends on what time of day you approach. Please discuss.
Aden waves his hand at the oblivious elf then leans in further. "Guess it depends then who we are approaching as... Might be good for a couple of us to go in during the day as commoners. Get the lay of the land, identify any major surprises, perhaps a few details on the players. Then we bust in at night, with blades at the ready. Don't end up caught with our pants down. You know?"
"I'm not much of a tavern person. Even in college I didn't go to the nearby tavern."
"Scouting is always wise, many of to have great knowledge of the area, you would likely be best suited to figure out who is who and what is what."
Aden smiles at his sometime companion. "My dear Dr. Butler, does going into a tavern have you all in a twist? Surely you aren't scared of a little social interaction..." he gives the skilled investigator a nudge with his elbow, a genuine smile on his face as he does.
"I know, I'll be the one going in. Though it would be best to have at least someone watching my back." He looks at the two large men, "Don't suppose either of you are much skilled at putting up a facade?" Finally, he turns to the half-mad chemist. "Perhaps rather than muscle a more delicate touch is in order? Can you put on a good face for the crowd, m'lady" he asked inquisitively.
"Nothing like that. I just would stand out, and not in a good way."
Lina looks down at Aden with an eyebrow raised skeptically. She turns to the others, hoping for some other input, but finally responds. "I can put on several different airs, as situation calls for it. But if you think I am going to be some little tart to get information, you'll have to reconsider your fine plan Mr. Blackfoot. Just because I was raised amidst the aristocracy does not mean spreading my legs is my preferred path for obtaining what I want." The doubtful scowl remains on her expression as she stares at the halfling questioningly.
Mr. Armature stands to one side and leans against the wall listening to the others talk.
"Here now...perhaps us who can blend in should go and those who don't stay out. We are only having a look-see, right? Lets us use what skills we have to best action, eh?!"
He smiles as he pushes himself away from the wall to stand with the others.
"And no need to be tarting up Miss Ashenval there...I am sure she knows her way around a pub..and the blokes within, am I right!"
He gives a quick wink to Lina as he continues.
"Grattfaulk and I probably will have the easiest time settling into the place, so we can act as your "backup" if needed, but give us time to get set up inside and scope the place. What do you say, cousin? Think a trip to the boozer is in your future?"
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"It would serve well to remember the Pot is a dock-based business and dress appropriately to that, I believe I can offer proper apparel for those wishing to scout." Imesah offers, showing you to a series of wardrobes with plentiful clothing.
Lina Deception
Aden Deception
Mr Intimidation
Lina Perception
Aden Perception
Mr Perception
Lina Society
The Copper Pot's main dining hall has nine tables. A half-elf your knowledge confirms is Dog Ear sits with two burly looking Varisians in the back corner table. At the table in front and blocking this table is what looks to be a cross between an Irespan piling and a Shoanti, probably about seven feet tall, with thick limbs and a barrel chest. He wears his hair long, atypical for a Shoanti, and has a tattoo of a skull superimposed over his own face. The other patrons give both tables plenty of space.
The Shoanti gives very hard looks to Aden, and keeps an eye on him the entire time he is in the restaurant. Nr, Armiture's presence seems to keep him from saying or doing anything else unless provoked, however. He pays very little attention to Lina.
You take note that as some people come into the eatery, they head to the table of the Shoanti. They place small sacks of coin on the table. The Shoanti gazes in their eyes for a few uncomfortable, silent moments, and then either they leave, or, if he asks them something, they answer quickly and plainly. The bags are left on the table the entire time you are there.
You know a bit about the Shoanti. Called Grimskull, he works as the frontman for Dog Ear. Your contacts have told you the Shoanti has been ostracized by his fellow Skull Quah tribemates and he has signed on with Dog Ear after a particularly brutal beating the Gallowed laid upon two of his brothers. He has a fondness for licorice.
Any business for Dog Ear's attention must go through this man first. The Varisians are Vikten and Frittel Kostini, brothers who do most of the muscle work for Dog Ear. They are loyal and keep the other members of the gang in line.
You that all the men coming in to drop off pouches are armed and they all have tattoos on their right ear resembling a patch of fur. They are all of Varisian descent. You overhear whispers when they sit at the Shoanti's table, among them "onions for the pot", "carrots for the pot" and "meat for the pot." You think they might be using a code, either for the type or amount of coins or maybe where the coins were procured.
Of the "normal" patrons, you note most are dockworkers or sailors, and almost all offer something to the pot on exchange for the discount. You note a few of them are armed (mostly knives or short blades), as are a couple of the wait staff.
The kitchen has an exposed archway leading too and from it, and you watch as two pots boil. Everything brought in is added to one pot, while all food served is ladled from the other. Wait staff bustle back and forth. There are two doors leading from the kitchen, one to a closet/storeroom you see accessed fairly frequently, while the other seems to be a small, cramped office.
You notice that there are a couple of staff members that mill around the restaurant without actually doing any real work, but rather seem to be keeping an eye on the patrons. You notice that these "workers" have concealed short blades. During the time you are there, you note three- two women and a boy of maybe 16 years.
Mr. Armiture takes a seat and simply watches the goings-on in the tavern until he has as much information about the place as he thinks he is going to get. He quietly leaves and heads back to where the others are waiting.
"Well that is an interesting place. They have a couple of head-crackers pretending to be staff just keeping an eye on the guests. What did you learn Lina...Aden??"
Aden had adopted one of his many identities before heading to the Copper Pot, that of a half-wit grifter who works the docksides. An unassuming disguise to be sure, until he noticed the giant Shoanti eyeing him down. 'Damn, I think I fleeced him three weeks back... perhaps this identity has run its course, will need to burn it after today.'
Despite the extra scrutiny being sent his way, Aden paid careful attention to the goings on the those who came and went from the Copper Pot, most notably the ruffians paying what was likely their daily collections up to their leader. 'I wonder what the coded language means...' he mused to himself as he lingered over a pint or two.
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After several hours of drinking, lounging, and socializing, Aden casually makes his way back out into the street then down an alley, where he trusts in his innate ability to go unnoticed to disappear into the shadows of Magnimar as he makes his way back to his companions.
Back with the others, as his muscled friend prompts, Aden shuffles a bit. "Eh, would seem that quite a few of the people coming and going were thugs or ruffians of the Gallowed, beholden to Dog Ear and there to pay forth there collections or spoils. Still tryin' to figure it all out. How about you?"
"It would seem that our initial information were confirmed: the tavern is a front for the Gallowed, unless Lady Ashenval has some observations to contradict that information." Quinton looked towards the bar, wondering why she had not come out yet.
Lina had slipped out before the others, making her way to some shops to create the amblings of a woman with no care in the world. Eventually she reconnected with her comrades. She remained lost in thought as the others shared their findings, until she felt the cold gaze of Quinton on her.
"Umm, yes? Oh, right. Well, there is something that might be a bit of an in road. The two thugs that flanked Dog Ear are the Kostini Brothers, Vikten and Frittel. As Varisians and Dog Ear's left and right hand, they are firmly at his side. But the mountain of a man, the Shoanti referred to as Grimskull, that is another matter. He's been ostracized from his own clan and joined up with Dog Ear after the beating of two of his Shoanti brothers. I should say it is unclear if they are his brothers through direct familial line, or whether 'brother' is more a reference of clan relation. Still, I wonder if he was shunned by his people for not being able to defend his kin and so signed on with Dog Ear as almost a form of permanent protection payment to the Gallowed. Thoughts?"
"Well sounds like Grimskull is our most likely in. If he has joined with Dog Ear and the Gallowed out of self preservation than it might be possible to sway his loyalty in our direction.," Grattfaulk pauses and scratches his head, "although, if we try and sway him and his loyalty to Dog Ear is true it may give away any sort of cover we may have."
"Perhaps we should just see if we can bribe him for information?"
Aden looks up at the perplexing woman, a half-cocked frown on his face. "Wait, let me get this straight - you're telling me that the mountain of a man with a tattoo of a skull on his face is the 'weak' link in the Gallowed's leadership? Seems like a risky move to make, especially considering he probably has at least eight stone on even are larger friends here..,"
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Your best speculation is that "carrots" indicated a poor bag, probably mostly coppers, while "onions" represented a bag laden with silver, and "meat: indicated a bag with at least a significant portion of gold. You base this off your interpretation of the minute reactions of Grimskull, the demeanor of the presenters, and a recognition that Grimskull clearly knew where each of the presenters works.
You also know that one of the "carrot" boys works the area called "Fishscales"- a poor tenement area of slightly over a dozen known for flooding on the lower southwest side of the Docks District.
Imesah silently listens to your discussion, a look of quite determination on her face.
"I suppose the best way to find out would be just to go and talk to him." offered Quinton. With a decision made, Quinton stood, gathered his coat, and headed out the door.
Walking down the street towards The Copper Pot, whistling a jaunty tune as he did. He appeared completely unafraid, and was twirling his cane as he walked.
Arriving at The Copper Pot, he donned his gloves before gingerly opening the door and stepping inside. Looking around the room, he walked like someone trying not to touch anything for fear of contamination and approached Grimskull directly and said in a voice with only a hint of disgust "Hello my good sir. I wish to speak with you regarding a private business matter. Might I have a moment of your time?"
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The patrons and staff make no attempt to disguise the mutuality of disgust. Grimskull gives you intense scrutiny for an uncomfortable amount of time before saying "I'm not sure where your business and mine would find brotherhood. You have my interest. Use it before it is gone."
He remains seated, waiting to hear what you have to say next. The rest of the Pot exhales their subconsciously held breath collectively and go back to their own business.
Quinton appears to falter for a moment, then says "It is of a....sensitive nature, but I should say that I have heard that you are someone that can be relied on to deal with...risky situations."
Quinton then looks around conspiratorially and says "I don't really feel comfortable discussing specifics in the open as it were, but I sufficit to say, I would like to hire you."
Grattfaulk follows Quinton and Mr. Armature at a distance.
"My name is Reginald Windsor Smythe III." said Quinton in the manner of someone who expected that their name would mean something.
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Grimskull lets out a sound that might be a stifled chuckle. "I wonder, now, what Reginald Windsor Smythe the First might say about you climbing down the cleft to visit a Shoanti gangster on business." he muses, giving a cut-off gesture with his right hand before you can answer. "No matter, you being here, looking for me, tells me this work is not the type your elders would get their hands dirty with. Since you're uncomfortable with specifics, tell me the generalities. Make it worth my time before I grow irritated with your sniveling."
In response to this, Quinton reaches into his pocket and produces a single Gold Coin, which he offers to the man. "Perhaps now you'll be willing to take me seriously?"
Reckless
