Elen turns in early to battle the fatigue suggesting the group gets together at their pre-planned meeting with Lady Lotheed at 2pm. Meanwhile, Muri and Kamari press on into the late night pushing their endurance.
It takes some time - folks are keen to talk, but no-one cares about a warehouse. Everyone wants to talk about what happened tonight. Well, those that are out this late anyway. The fear in the air is palpable, so most folks are keeping very much to themselves for now. A few fights break out over who is to rule among those who are awake in the pubs, but they seem more driven by desperation drinking than a pull of loyalties one way or another. The people are in turmoil.
But amidst it all, you are able to get information on the Dignified Repository, and it’s exact location. It’s known as a storage spot for nobles with a kindly night guard and pain-in-the-ass day guard. As a result, some deliveries are handled late at night, just to avoid the annoyance. It’s a large place, folks say, full of old noble junk: furniture, drapes, boxes of old documents - you name it. Little of it is worth anything, and finding the diamond in the rough is always a difficult task for any thief. So the place is pretty secure and unbothered.
It’s 2am by the time you obtain this information, and the city is beginning to sleep. An unfitful, worried sleep, but sleep none the less. You run into a patrol of the city watch, who tells you there’s a curfew on (at least in their district) and to move on or you’ll be arrested. You also spotted a military patrol, though what they’re doing on the streets is hard to know. You avoid them.
What’s next?
When the twelfth bell tolls and no message is received from Lady Lotheed, Kamari's hopes dwindle. By the time the first and second bells of the new day ring, she accepts that no word will be forthcoming.
She turns to Muri, "She could still be alive. If someone took her badge, then she couldn't use it."
"I wish the two of us might set this city to rights, but we're both too intelligent to believe in that fantasy. Thank you for accompanying me tonight. I'll see you later today and hopefully rest and a new day will bring some clarity as to our direction."
Kamari travels the back alleys to get home--they somehow feel safer than the public streets this crazy night.
She arrives home to find her father at the door, a sword in his hand.
"Where did you find that thing, papa? At least you're holding the right end."
"Under your bed. Where else?"
Kamari blushes and then hugs her father tightly. "Let's go inside. There's much to discuss."
Between bites of a late night snack Kamari recounts the night's adventures, but when the third bell rings she wishes her dad goodnight and crawls into bed. Her mind spins with thoughts of what has occurred and what might be done, but she focuses on her breathing and soon finds sleep.
K'Aldrian, walking again with his cane, doesn't care much about what Anselm's place looks like. He only cares that there is a roof over head and someplace not wet to sleep. He's been a soldier for a long time and was used to existing on little sleep, and sleeping in places that were not comfortable.
In morning, K'Aldrian will arise early (he doesn't sleep too much, but needs some) and preform his morning reflections to a 'dead' god and then see if he can help prepare a morning meal. He brought no food with him, but can cook a strong soldier's fare if given oats and butter.
"I would kill for some coffee, Anselm. Or even kavu, if you have that. Not much difference in the base, but everything is in the preparation," he muses in the morning.
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Before going to bed, Anselm once again prays for the city's guidance.
What news of Lady Lotheed? Which guards support Eutropia?
The just-firm-enough beds of the Basri townhouse lead their occupants into a deep, comforting sleep. In the morning, Priscus and a handmaiden attend to the Major and Mama D , pushing carts full of goodies before them.
"Major, I have taken the liberty of cleaning and pressing your uniform. And here you have a selection of pastries, soft-boiled eggs, a rasher of bacon, and coffee. Our cook emigrated from Galt. We're very proud of his croissants."
K'Aldrian's uniform is hung from the door neatly, without a trace of blood or cut. The coffee is quite strong, though there is cream to smooth its edges.
When Anselm rises, he spends time on quick sketches of the preceding night's events. The assassination of Kalbio. The Temple of Aroden. Dagio the Great. All prayers to Shelyn, if a bit slap dash.
He dresses and joins the others, making pleasantries but distracted by thoughts of impending battle. I need better armor.
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Muri realizes too late that Underfoot has finally hit the limits of the long day, a little limp in her gait indicating some hip pain, or possibly a raw paw pad. "Sorry, girl. We're almost done." Underfoot responds by lightly panting. Elen was right to stop and rest. If we're all tired, we won't be any good in the search tomorrow.
"She could still be alive. If someone took her badge, then she couldn't use it. I wish the two of us might set this city to rights, but we're both too intelligent to believe in that fantasy. Thank you for accompanying me tonight. I'll see you later today and hopefully rest and a new day will bring some clarity as to our direction."
Muri rubs his neck, looking out over the city's warehouse district, hours now spent in the research. "Rest would be good." The halfling turns to the swordswoman. "Do you think she'll be there? Sounded like she was in the thick of it, while we ran our maze like mice. And the others. Madame Lotheed and the Major are going to get themselves hurt, trying to keep up." Muri purses his lips to one side, thinking. "Ok. Get some rest. Let's hope they haven't finished interrogating Martella. Or maybe let's hope they never laid hands on her. That's a better hope. But if she's not there at two, we can switch hopes."
Muri slows his pace, allowing Underfoot to take the lead. He's not quite sure where they've ended up, but knows that Underfoot always seems to know the direction of home, city or countryside.
When they get back to Pelicourt Manor, the bedraggled pair do their best to enter quietly. Not quietly enough, unfortunately.
Muri yelps, and Old Raff emerges from the shadow of a nearby doorway, setting down a recently-fired crossbow, and beginning an odd mixture of apology and admonishment. "You should have called out, master Muri! We thought you'd died! You could have been a noble hunter, trying for master Malaric and lady Mircene! Oh, I'm sorry, really I am. Let me help you with that..."
Muri finds out through Old Raff that his family is safe and nestled in the subbasement apartment, and should emerge in the late morning, when they've received the all-clear. The crossbow bolt in his shoulder is clipped, and the wound dressed. Muri does his best to put Old Raff's mind at ease, and keeps the butler company for another hour, before succumbing to fatigue.
...
The combination of shoulder ache, warmth of covers, and weight of an adjacent sheepdog keeps Muri in bed for the better part of the morning. He's woken by Mircene, who bears a breakfast tray for both halfling and dog. The two share everything, interrupted once by uncle Malaric leaning in through the bedroom door to acknowledge his gratitude of everyone's safety. Malaric spies Muri's shoulder, but doesn't inquire, leaving the cousins to continue their conversation.
When Muri feels Mircene understands the gravity of their situation, he sets off to meet with the others, and hopefully Lady Martella as well. Underfoot moves more slowly than is usual, but Muri can't tell if she's still dealing with aches, or if she's sensing things he can't. He keeps to her side, heading down from Senate Hill.
Anselm invites a few of the party members into his sumptuous home where he wines and dines them before they turn in. The rest of the party mostly has success late into the night. All of you sleep uneasily, but well enough and undisturbed. Morning comes way too soon, though most of you sleep in I expect.
It is Pharast the second, the day after the enormous party. Today, if you remember, you’re to claim Senator Dou's reward in his offices on Strand Street sometime during the day. Also you have a meeting scheduled with Martella Lotheed at 2pm and I believe the party is planning to meet then as well.
By the time Muri rises, Senator Plastion’s servant has dropped off the payment from the night before. The party is 1,500gp richer!
There is a central hub - a few parallel streets for a few blocks in every direction in the north of town. The Désiré Ballet Company isn’t in that district, exactly, but it is close. When you find the building, you’re immediately, well, underwhelmed. It is an old building, and somewhat dilapidated, but it has good bones - solid brick rising high into the night sky with a broad, friendly, entrance and a delightful cafe around the corner that you imagine does a brusque business on ballet nights.
It’s just that the façade needs some work, the paint is rather weathered, and the box office has a large crack in the glass.
What do you do?
- - -
What news of Lady Lotheed?
No one seems to know, but that isn’t too surprising. The talk of the town is more where’s the King? Where’s the Princess - now maybe heir to the throne?
Which guards support Eutropia?
The more local the forces, such as the city guard, the more likely they support Eutropia. But there is dissent on all sides. Blood has not yet been spilt, but there is tension between forces.
- - -
Let me know what you’re planning to do with your morning and early afternoon.
"My goodness! Is this what it's going to be like to get old?" Kamari stretches in her bed as the morning comes to an end.
"It's worse than that," her father remarks from the kitchen. "Lunch is almost ready."
Kamari enjoys a simple home-cooked meal after a couple days of delicacies before donning her chain shirt and loading up her satchel with all the goodies she wished she had last night. The dress was fun for a night, but she finds herself much more comfortable with her usual clothing over her chain shirt.
While en route to meet the party, she'll see if any of the churches have a short line where she might obtain healing for her still weakened condition. Perhaps she can even just pick up a scroll for one of the party to use.
Mama D does indeed join The Good Major and Fair Anselm at the Basri Townhouse. That Pascus recognizes her is both heartwarming and a bit alarming, for she is used to invisibility being her friend. and so are the changes with being in the city.
she thanks both of them for their aid throughout the day. "I do not mind living in interesting times, but perhaps tomorrow could be a bit less interesting."
_________
In the morning, she takes the time to scribe some scrolls before joining the others. .
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Anselm waits in the parlor for the Major and Mama D to descend. "The city awaits direction. We can best trust the city guards, but even their allegiance varies. I've asked Priscus to hire us a carriage to the café. I would also like to purchase better armor for our coming adventures. Perhaps a visit to some of the contacts Earl Varima mentioned to us."
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"Major, I have taken the liberty of cleaning and pressing your uniform. And here you have a selection of pastries, soft-boiled eggs, a rasher of bacon, and coffee. Our cook emigrated from Galt. We're very proud of his croissants."
K'Aldrian is certainly pleased with the help as he is dead tired, but also he's not used to having others tend to him and is perfectly capable in cleaning his own dang clothes. However, rather than be a rude guest, he stiffly allows the help to, well, help.
"This is appreciated, Anselm. Must be nice to have such means," he notes while helping himself the bacon and coffee, a soldier's breakfast. He even begins to relax a bit, as the knows he has no where to be before 2pm, even if he does want to do a bit of shopping before the meeting.
"Actually, Anselm, it occurs to me that we should go shopping after the rendezvous with Kamari. If they have scouted well, we might be able to prepare ourselves for what may be inside," K'Aldrian explains to Anselm without noting his change in earlier thought. "If we're expecting more trouble, we'll want more curatives, much less something that will help Kamari regain her fighting spirit. She looked pretty green as she hobbled away last night."
* * *
* * *
Kort will be ready, in finely pressed field uniform and glossy parade armor when others are ready to go.
Unsure about what and when the others are, K'Aldrian plans to arrive early at the designated meeting spot.
He's thinking about going shopping after the meet and Kamari spills the beans what the destination, if she learnt anything.
"Well, what do have to report? Anything of use? Scouting is key," Kort notes stiffly.
"Helloooo? Is anyone here?"
I wonder if I should give him his gold back...
In the event it is not open, she will come back during business hours and instead will head for the church of Shelyn to pray, drop off a tithe and begin choreographing Penance #1, then meet the others at the cafe.
Actually she'll do both if there's enough time to 'kill'.
"Yes, I am fortunate, Major. And yet, it can be a lonely way of life. Sent hither and yon, as our affairs with other lands and peoples dictate. I was sent away to the faerie court shortly after I finished my letters. I returned a short time ago. My father and mother are abroad just now. I'm glad of that — Shelyn knows what would have befell them last night."
He regards K'Aldrian. "But you know about the life of duty. An officer, a diplomat. We both enjoy privileges that laborers and urchins lack. It saddens me to see so much beauty created in the name of the Eternal Rose, but hoarded by those of us with privilege. I hope that Eutropia might correct that in some way."
Anselm begins to put on his jacket, but Priscus steps in to help him. He gives the elder butler a resigned half smile. "Mae govannen, Priscus," he says in Elvish.
"I think you're right though, Major. Let us wait until after our meeting to purchase our supplies. Maybe we can take advantage of the contacts we made last night, if they haven't gone into hiding."
He offers a hand to the Major and Mama D as the trio board the carriage bound for the café.
In the morning, as folks go out about their business, the streets are quiet. Much quieter than usual for a Fireday, and much quieter than you’d expect the day after the Grand Exaltation (a few early morning hangovers aside). Folks are huddled together on the streets, which they cross as you approach, not sure who to trust. People are going about their business to be sure, but the city is subdued.
Anselm correctly IDs the spoon as a Sustaining Spoon (link).
You find a church of Abadar handily enough and there is no line by the time you stop by in the early afternoon. A lesser functionary greets you, and when you mention what you need, she’s very helpful. ”Yes, we can certainly aid you with what you seek. The church requires a donation of 50 gold pieces, though of course more is the right thing to do.” she smiles brightly.
- - -
He’s ready to close the door, but waits politely for you to respond just in case.
- - -
Mama D is able to scribe some scrolls, and still spend a couple hours transcribing spells into her own spellbook if she wishes before the tea.
You all meet at the Shining Scale, just 24hours after your last meeting here with Martella Lotheed, at 2pm. It’s less full than it was the day before, and you are able to get your same table without difficulty. There is no one in particularly good range for eavesdropping, but it is a place with lots of comings and goings. The party all shows up in groups and singly. The cafe is warm with the smell of fresh bread, and the fig jam is as lovely as it was the day before.
By 2:30pm though, it’s clear that the normally punctual Lady Lotheed isn’t coming. You may chat among yourselves.
”Should we be worried that she’s not here yet? Are the nobility known for lateness?” K’Aldrian worries with some stiff reserve. He looks again at his empty coffee cup, wondering whether to get more or just try to be patient. ”I just don’t know what to expect, but maybe we should start planning as if she’s not coming.” Kort worries that this is true.
”Kamari, what did your scoutings reveal? What would you suggest?”
Muri and Underfoot pad up to the Shining Scale, the halfling giving into the lure of the loaves. He works his way to the front counter, where he secures three loaves. A big fluffy loaf goes to Underfoot, who almost immediately consumes it. Some saliva at the ready and two snuffles, and it's gone. The two loaves of flatbread are tucked away for later, should a stakeout or siege be in the offing. The warm bread nestles against the coin purse he brings to this meeting, courtesy of Plastion.
The transaction gives him time to look about the cafe, and identify the Lotheed crew. He makes his way to the table, and takes a chair, while Underfoot remains near the counter, watching the purchases, and appraising the baked goods. She wags her tail each and every time the server looks in her direction.
The right thing to do would be to help those in need for free, but maybe that's just me.
Kamari pulls out 50 shiny pieces of gold. Easy come. Easy go.
She hands over the gold, avoiding discussions of religion or politics.
Kamari arrives at the cafe--hopefully--refreshed and a bit peckish despite the lunch with her father. She grabs a flaky pastry with chocolate drizzled on top along with a coffee and joins those at the table.
”Kamari, what did your scoutings reveal? What would you suggest?”
"I'm afraid it was slow going last night and by the time we found where the repository was it seemed prudent not to approach on our own."
She shares what they learned about the repository being a well-guarded warehouse for the well-to-do.
"Perhaps we might get access with a ruse. Surely it would be believed that Anselm's family would be looking to secure some valuables there during this time of unrest."
"I fear our trip to the Repository may be a rescue mission, if Lady Lotheed yet lives. I feel in my bones that she must."
Anselm takes out the wig found beneath the Senate. "We could also disguise ourselves. I have my own method, and someone with a sly tongue could use this. Perhaps the others hide in a wagon full of valuables."
Muri pats the table, listening to the unfolding planning. "So I'm a Fantabulous. I'm hiding in a warehouse, and I have people to question inside, while I have others protect the outside doors..." Muri pats some more. "We're not getting in, because that's a risk they won't take. But your ruse idea might get us close to guards before they recognize us. Maybe they think we're dead. I think we have to figure out how they're defending the building. If they leave a door unprotected, then we might get lucky. If they spread themselves thin trying to watch all sides, then we start thinning their numbers like we did with Imistos." Muri raises an eyebrow at Anselm.
"Are you ok with that? Or do you want to give them the benefit of the doubt? We can thump them into unconsciousness, but that also means we have to worry about them waking up, and behind us when we enter." Muri stops patting the table. "If they're all Thamir assassins, I don't want to leave any of them alive." The halfling speaks matter-of-factly.
”Well, Anselm certainly has a largess, and so the ruse might not need to be too elaborate or stretched,” Kort notes, hearing Kamari’s plan. ”We could use the visit to scout first, and then plan as needed from there. Would be good to know what defenses they have to keep the valuables safe.”
Muri leans forward on his seat. "Madame Lotheed, could you whip up papers, to make it look like we know what we're doing, approaching the Repository? Maybe a written agreement with the owner of the warehouse, holding him or her to a certain amount of space? Paperwork carries a certain weight, don't you think?" The halfling frowns in thought.
"Who does own the Dignified Repository?" Muri looks to his tablemates. "Are we all headed directly to the front doors, with this wagon? Where do we get a wagon, I wonder. That, and things to fill it. I think I need to shop for other things, too. Oh, that reminds me." The halfling produces a decently large coin purse, and sets it on the table for all to see. "We got paid by Plastion this morning."
"Of course, you could also disguise yourself as Imistos, Muri. But I agree. A ruse can get us close, and perhaps even allow us to smuggle some or the rest in."
Anselm considers. "These are ruthless assassins. It would be nice if we could simply beat them unconscious, but I favor whatever we must do to defend ourselves. I'm not keen on letting them die when they're down, if we can help it. I suppose that's why we must ensure Eutropia assumes the crown. It is hard to enact justice when we don't know which guards to trust."
He looks about the room for potential spies, wishing that he had Lady Lotheed's buzzing insect to preserve privacy.
It isn’t long before an older priest, with a thin smile, greets you and takes your document. He nods, ”Rough night?” and casts Lesser Restoration.
All your remaining strength damage fades away under the spell, as does any lingering fatigue from the late night. Refreshed, there’s an extra bounce in your step as you leave the large church on your way to join the party.
- - -
Anselm looks around carefully, but finds no one who fits the bill as a 'spy'. The closest table has a quiet elderly couple, enjoying their afternoon tea in a sunny spot. It's clear they're concerned and generally worried about the state of the world, but they're trying very hard to enjoy themselves. They are relatively quiet, but you don't think it's so they can eavesdrop on you.
Presuming you're going to sell some gear (and maybe buy some too), please take a moment to look over the treasure sheet. I've flagged the items I think you'll sell, but that means nothing at this stage. If there's something you want, speak up. Please let me know specifically what you're doing with the poison and unholy symbol you've collected.
Between you, you'll be able to sell these items around town, and can buy almost any legal non-magical item. Magic might be a bit trickier, outside of potions, scrolls, and the usual common wands from the church (cure light wounds, lesser restoration, whatever).
Based on prior requests, I have the following slated for group purchase:
Wand cure light wounds (750gp ea, x2)
Scroll of lesser restoration (150gp ea, x4)
Will you be wanting anything else on the group front?
Meanwhile, please continue to plot and plan as you will. Any of you with proper residences here in town could probably scrounge up a wagon, pair of horses, and odds and ends from attics/basements to put in the wagon. It won't look like much, but it doesn't have to really for what you are planning and based on what you know of the warehouse.
Following Anselm's lead, Kamari lowers her voice and looks about before continuing.
"The repository is known to have a kindly night guard and pain-in-the-ass day guard," Kamari recalls some some of the conversation from the night before and shares it with the others. "I expect we'll have better luck after dinner, which gives us the afternoon to prepare and make any necessary purchases."
"Let's see.. We have the pompous noble, Anselm. His wizen advisor, the Major. A trusted elder family friend to keep Anselm in line, Mama D, or perhaps also storing things with Anselm. The lady's attendant, Elen. And the two servants/guards for lugging boxes, Muri and me."
Kamari glances over at Elen. "Or you could be a guard, too." Since she's probably more believable than me in that roll.
"So just a small wagon and some boxes of 'treasured family heirlooms' and we're good to go."
"We ask for the tour, proof that the family treasures will be safe, and hope to discover more."
”I’m sorry ma’am, theater’s closed just now. We’re in early preparation for our first show under new management, but we haven’t done up the play-bills yet so I’m afraid there’s little I can tell you.”
"Oh, I am looking for an older gentleman, I -- I saw him with a hat... he invited me to come by and take a tour. OH, but now I remember he said "in the afternoon". When would be a good day and time, do you think?"
Elen sneaks in quietly and joins the table as she listens to the others plot. She frowns. I don't have any great ideas as to how to get into the Repository, but I'm pretty sure that I do not want to hide in a wagon with valuables. She lightens as Kamari speaks.
"Or you could be a guard, too."
She smiles, and suggests both. "Often attendants are also trained defenders. I'm just afraid I'm not very good at disguises, but I don't think we should be recognized for who we actually are. I can make the effort!"
Anselm raises a warding hand. "We do not know who they'll recognize. They were insightful enough to send one of their members after us. I'll happily help with disguises. I rather think a large entourage will seem suspect, but the roles you suggest seem apt, Kamari." He smiles. "Except the pompous part, I hope."
K’Aldrain listens to Kamari’s plan, and Anselm’s thoughts and nods. ”Good enough, I can be pompous for all of us, as needed,” Kort says stiffly, whether he’s acting or just that way, he isn’t sure. ”If that is the plan, let us get to the market to buy supplies.”
”M’Della, will you be needing anything from the markets? Mayhaps we could shop together. I have questions for you. Things that I do not yet understand and you might be the exact right person to explain,” Kort inquires.
Please remember to track the group items. Who’s carrying what (other than the antitoxins which you each get)?
I’ve left a few things unsold, like the scroll of breath of life and potion of neutralize poison, though perhaps that was a mistake. If no one can cast the former, even eventually, I’ll toss it on the sale pile for next time. Please let me know.
Also, for possible purchases, remember that if you use Earl Gahez Varima’s contacts, you’ll get 10% off anything non-magical. For odd or unusual items, you might talk to Lady Nelidwyth Piblet,a gnome tinker who will get you the weird stuff - and at a 10% discount as well. And you get priestly casting at 10% off from Lord Remilliard Kastner, so you can make existing items masterwork for 270gp.
Buying magics outside the basics stuff a church might produce is tricky at this time, but you might be able to spend some time hunting something down if you need to. You could also look up Lord Petnik Miragella. His family has a villa here in town. He could get you magical gear at short notice you suspect.
It is currently around 3pm, with dusk in the neighborhood of 6:30pm. Doing some basic nonmagical selling and buying will put you close to 4pm. It’ll also take you a good hour to gather the wagon and old furniture so best case you’re rolling into the warehouse around 5pm though there was mention of trying the night guard after dark.
Don’t forget - Claim Senator Dou's reward in his offices on Strand Street. You can do that as a group if you wish, at any time while running errands without adding any significant time I should think as you’re already criss-crossing the city.
He gathers your name and lets you in the grand foyer. Inside, it doesn’t look much better, but the dim light helps smooth the edges. You suspect the light would be brighter if someone cleaned the upper windows over the doors to the street however. There are several large doors that open into the foyer where people can milll about between performances. There’s a coat-check to one side, doors to offices on the other, and in the middle, flanked on either side by enormous and graceful curved staircases, a brass and rich darkwood bar. Quite a jewel that.
You don’t wait long before the man you now know as Moyege Désiré walks in through the office door. He’s still well dressed, though a little disheveled, and he has on a worker’s overcoat, splattered a bit with paint. ”My gracious Lady, I had not expected you so soon!” he extends the same nervous damp handshake as before as he bows slightly. You half expect him to kiss your hand, but he stops just short.
Straightening up, he smiles, glances at your expression, and looks around, ”Yes, I know it doesn’t seem like much now, but a little paint, some proper cleaning, a new rug or two, and she’ll brighten up nicely! My brother sunk his half of the family fortune getting it this far, and I suspect I’ll sink the other half getting it going again!” he laughs.
”So would you like a tour now, or did you have some other question or concern?”
During his rambling, the boy returns from wherever he was and stands behind him a bit, ready to do whatever’s needed.
- - -
Muri leans forward on his seat. "Madame Lotheed, could you whip up papers, to make it look like we know what we're doing, approaching the Repository? Maybe a written agreement with the owner of the warehouse, holding him or her to a certain amount of space? Paperwork carries a certain weight, don't you think?"
"I will do my best."
"I do like the sound of Kamari's plan over all, but I will definitely need help with a disguise. "
”M’Della, will you be needing anything from the markets? Mayhaps we could shop together. I have questions for you. Things that I do not yet understand and you might be the exact right person to explain,”
"I cannot promise to have the answers you are looking for, but a walk in the market will be lovely, and I will answer what I can. And perhaps we can find something to help with the disguises?"
"Good Morning Mr. Désiré," Elen says, letting him take her hand in greeting and trying not to recoil visibly when it appears as though he might kiss it. " I hope I am not too early. I would very much like to take the tour if it is not too much trouble."
She nods as he describes the financial sacrifice made by his brother to bring the place to where it currently stands. "A very noble endeavor."
Anselm raises a warding hand. "We do not know who they'll recognize. They were insightful enough to send one of their members after us. I'll happily help with disguises. I rather think a large entourage will seem suspect, but the roles you suggest seem apt, Kamari." He smiles. "Except the pompous part, I hope."
"Oh? Fantabulous the killer clown would certainly recognize me after what I did to him, and Teams One and Two -- though they are dead -- of the Brotherhood of Silence seemed to know the exact nature of our involvement. I will need all the help I can get with a disguise, please!"
"Disguises for all!"
"Oparra is big enough that the guards can't know every noble. I don't think we need to expose anyone with their real identities."
"Let's do some shopping and then meet up at Anselm's or Muri's place for makeovers. We can then approach the place in the evening."
Kamari devours the last bite of chocolatey goodness, swirls her coffee, and downs that too.
Mama D prepares a very respectable forgery - a bill of sale for storage within the Dignified Repository of some miscellaneous goods no larger than an 8x8 pallet. She’s not quite sure of the basics, but figures it should do fine for what you’ll need. She smudged the signature of the seller, so it could be just about anyone from some peon all the way to the owner in case you need flexibility.
Feel free to describe your disguises for role play purposes, but don’t get too hung up on every nuanced detail, every false nose purchased, etc. I’ll assume Anselm is taking-10 on each of you for convenience. That’ll put you at a 19 base, +2 for circumstance bonuses (as you seem to be going all out) so DC 21 to me for most of you (there may be some adjustments to individuals).
Let me know what you buy, and let me know if you do anything else prior to your departure this evening. Happy to role play purchases as well. I’m assuming you’re headed out, say 7pm, after dusk, so the night guard will be there. If that is incorrect, let me know.
Moyege Désiré smiles broadly as he shows off his theater. The inside, like the outside, has really good bones, but the facade needs a lot of work. You can see some of the effort he’s putting in though, and it’s impressive. He seems to be starting from the stage outward. Scaffolding covers much of the interior in one way or another, and there are about two dozen workers doing various tasks throughout the building. As you look closer, you suspect that some, if not most, of the laborers are in fact crew for the theater. However the leaders of the various tasks seem like skilled artisans, so it’s probably OK.
They’re certainly doing a job though. Everything from the ceiling on down is getting a buff, polish, rebuild, paint job, fresh carpeting, and even some new baffles on the walls to focus sound. Mr. Désiré smiles at the baffles, ”I met a woman who really knows sound from Absalom. It is said she travels the world, looking for spaces she can fill with sound. I don’t know how we managed to get her, but we did. She was expensive, but I can’t wait to hear a performance!”
Then he takes you backstage, and you see more of the transformation he’s making. These areas have been largely finished, and they positively shine! He’s had continual light sconces put into place in various key areas making the usual warren of passages and rooms seem almost bright and lively. There are few people back here as most folks are working in the main theater area, but you do run into a pair of late middle aged men with a touch of gray in their hair vigorously cleaning as they sing various show tunes to pass the time. They greet you cordially, without breaking stride, or measure, as they continue to work.
You move on to a quieter area just off the stage with several rooms adjoining a large-ish common area filled with light and mirrors. ”Some of the rooms are for costume storage. Not all of it of course, just what we’d have for a given show. The rest are for our stars to prepare themselves.” he takes you to one of the rooms and opens the door. Within is a small dressing room lined with mirrors and a private closet almost as large as the room itself.
”This is where you’d be, if you’ll take me up on my offer. We’re sinking most of our current funds into the refurbishment, but we’ve a reserve for our first run. We’ll paper the town with our playbills announcing our triumphant return!” You can feel his excitement and see the dream in his eyes. ”We’ve a very competent orchestra and choir, but my focus now is on our stage performers - our jewels! I’ve been keeping my eyes open for some talent we can build around, and I’ve found you.”
”My lady, would you consider working with our fine troupe? As a star, you would of course be entitled to a share of the box office, at the usual rates and sundry, which are quite good here in Oppara. My brother, alas, had no head for business, but in that I excel so I’m sure we can work something out. However, we cannot bring forth a triumphant return without some good talent at the top!”
”So what do you say, are you interested?”
- - -
"I'll be happy to help. Let's buy an extra disguise kit, then."
Anselm rather enjoys himself as he drags the party in his wake, visiting the shops that Earl Varima mentioned. "Some of my favorites, truly. My mother would take me with her sometimes as a child. My father, too."
He catches himself. "Silly of me to gush so. I've never known hunger, let alone the want for shiny ornaments. Still, they're nice memories..."
"Oh? Fantabulous the killer clown would certainly recognize me after what I did to him..."
"Excuse me? You had an incident with Fantabulous? I think I missed that," Kort recovers his shock quickly, trying to fold the development into his planning. "I didn't realize that. I doubt Fantabulous will be guarding the door, but yes, hopefully Anselm can figure out a disguise for you. Sadly, I have no experience with such."
Kort poonders his purchases as he walks. He will take it upon himself (and welcomes others who wish to join him) to visit Senator Dou's offices to claim the reward. He knows others are busy and he thinks he can do this.
Kort poonders his purchases as he walks. He will take it upon himself (and welcomes others who wish to join him) to visit Senator Dou's offices to claim the reward. He knows others are busy and he thinks he can do this.
Kamari joins Kort to retrieve the reward as she has only a single purchase in mind, a mithral chain shirt from one of Earl Gahez Varima’s contacts. In the meantime, she considers her look for the night and settles on a sailor look; some ruffian hired from the docks for a few days until her ship sails out again.
Mithral Chain Shirt - 990 (or 1,100 full price)
While purchasing the wands at the temple, Anselm also asks for an enchantment on the shortbow he found the previous night.
"Yes! Let's get in some shopping!" she exclaims, downing her tea.
Elen enjoys watching Anselm outwardly celebrates his joy in the shops. I keep forgetting. Humans really enjoy shopping together. Such an odd thing to enjoy. Together. Oh, it's the things they say that make it interesting.
"Oh, memories like that are so cherishable! Do you have any favorites?"
When something catches her eye, she drops into a couple shops on her own then catches up.
”I’m glad you came with me, Kamari. All this internal strife is new to me, the games that the nobility are playing. It was much easier along the southern lines, when were facing the Qadiran sandleeches and their raiding parties. No, even with their subterfuge, it seems more straightforward than this,” K’Aldrian clacks with his cane as he walks, his crossbow stowed on his back. ”Every time we pass a patrol or noble’s home, I do not know where each of them stand, nor where their allegiances lie. It is strange to be so unsure of where one is.” Kort keeps an eye out on the way to the Senator’s office.
”What do you know of all this, Kamari? What should we be doing? I can only manage what I know, and of this, I know so little.”
Kort pauses for a moment and then continues his walk.
”Might be that the Senator’s office knows more. We should ask there what they think is happening in the bigger picture. Might find some context that will help us. They certainly might know more.”
”So what sort of Patronage did you have in mind?” he asks when you eventually land in his offices - a large space, filled with paper, old playbills, and a few props that needed somewhere to be while the back was worked on. It’s clear he’s adjusted his expectations and is willing to move more slowly to accommodate you - all that remains is to work out the details.
- - -
The party heads down to Strand Street hunting for Senator Dou’s offices. You do find them, through a narrow door followed by a wide red carpeted staircase up above a small cafe. The Senator is not there, but a middle-aged rotund man in slightly ragged finery greets you warmly. ”I’m afraid our offices are largely closed due to the, ah, difficulty. But I have been instructed to wait for you, and do a few odds and ends while I do so.” he looks around nervously, ”Still, I’m glad you’re here. I’m eager to get back home.”
He bids you enter and, despite his claim of wanting to get home, graciously offers you tea and biscuits. Brooking no dissent, he has you wait in a reasonably well appointed room for the purpose as he disappears within the offices. There must be another way around though, as you hear him creak down the stairs (the fourth one from the top creaks loudly).
Just as you’re beginning to wonder if he’s coming back, you hear the stair creak again. Shortly thereafter he returns with a silver tray piled high with various breads and other sweets, likely from the cafe below. Then he brings in a rather nice tea set and proceeds to pour the hot beverage into delicate saucers which he hands to each of you.
While you’re enjoying the repast he performs an apology for the absence of the Senator. ”It’s his constitution I’m afraid. Last night was a blow to many, including my lord, as you know. I expect it’ll be some time before we know what really happened.” He grows quiet, if only for a second, before chatting about his view of things from the night before, leaving you time to eat and drink without the need of getting involved save a polite grunt now and then.
He was in the Senate building, attending his lord, when Dame Trant came and they went away. The Senator returned shortly, as you remember leaving him, somewhat disheveled and ill at ease. His lord remained for the historic vote, but ducked out before The King’s Speech as he was entirely too agitated, and concerned about retribution from the Trants. So he only heard this morning of what happened, and is in shock, along with most of the city.
It’s hard to get a word in edge-wise, but he winds down a little, and an opportunity opens up as you finish your food and drink.
”What do you know of all this, Kamari? What should we be doing? I can only manage what I know, and of this, I know so little.”
"I'm afraid I know little of the machinations of the nobles and rich. Though I know their actions greatly affect the less fortunate, I've always felt like a wasp compared to them as the stop through the field. There seems to be no rhyme nor reason to their actions. Sometimes it's obviously for personal gain, but sometimes it's for some irrational reason I don't understand. I've been able to sting the bad ones on occasion to keep them from stepping on people, but not much more."
Kamari looks about, "But now, I feel like I might be able to do more than just offer an annoying sting. I'm beginning to get an idea where the vital parts of these groups are at. Hopefully I can stab at them as well I do with my rapier."
It's too bad that the Senator did not grow at least something of a backbone after we saved him.
Kamari finishes her second chocolate delicacy by the time she can get a word in.
"These are excellent! Was this what the senator meant by thanking us properly? And what did he hear happened at the Senate? We're all trying to piece together the awful night."
"These are excellent! Was this what the senator meant by thanking us properly? And what did he hear happened at the Senate? We're all trying to piece together the awful night."
"Yes, exactly, what have you heard happened, either from the Senator or from other mouths. We are trying to piece together what happened and it's very confusing to say the least," K'Aldrian agrees, hoping his stiff military presence helps loosen some lips.
Diplomacy
"So what sort of Patronage did you have in mind?”
"Excuse me? You had an incident with Fantabulous?"
"Ooh," Elen grumbles quietly. "Everyone missed it. In fact, no one was supposed to see it at all. I was dancing in the Mezzanine on a stage and inadvertantly stole Fantabulous's spotlight, right in front of Fantabulous," she smiles sheepishly. "I also ended up with his payment -- that's where the brandy came from."
She goes with the others to pay a visit to Sentator Dou's offices.
"Oh, thank you for the information, and the refreshments. Is Senator Dou too indisposed to see any visitors at all, then? Did he say anything to you at all about what he saw last night?" Elen asks Senator Dou's attendant, a glint of hope in her eye.
Something like that is considerably more expensive. You could make a large one time donation (generally rarer), or promise ongoing contributions (more common). You suspect anything higher than 150gp a year would suffice - but it really is entirely up to you. Remember he gave you 100gp already to entice you - though he wouldn’t dream of taking that back naturally.
For comparison, hiring a semi-skilled laborer (apprentice mason/blacksmith/carpenter/etc.) is only 3sp a day / 110gp a year. Unskilled are a third that. So a gift of 150gp a year would cover the costs and overhead of 2-3 people working at the theater. Naturally the talented dancers and performers are more expensive, sometimes quite a bit more (or they get a bit of the gross income as he was offering you).
- - -
"These are excellent! Was this what the senator meant by thanking us properly? And what did he hear happened at the Senate? We're all trying to piece together the awful night."
”Quite right, the Senator’s gift!” The man opens a drawer in an end table next to where he sits, and takes out a small box done up with a bit of tasteful ribbon.
”Again, I apologize on behalf of the Senator that he was not here in person to give you this, but please don’t think it’s because he thinks lesser of you. This thing has everyone jumping at shadows.” He stands and presents the box to Kamari before sitting again.
"Yes, exactly, what have you heard happened, either from the Senator or from other mouths. We are trying to piece together what happened and it's very confusing to say the least," K'Aldrian agrees, hoping his stiff military presence helps loosen some lips.
"Oh, thank you for the information, and the refreshments. Is Senator Dou too indisposed to see any visitors at all, then? Did he say anything to you at all about what he saw last night?" Elen asks Senator Dou's attendant, a glint of hope in her eye.
”All I know from last night is what I heard last night, and that wasn’t much I’m afraid. I’ve been, er, here most of the day without anyone to talk to, so I expect I know less than you!” He recounts what he has heard, namely that a large force infiltrated the Senate and was killing the leaders of Taldor seemingly indiscriminately. Dozens are dead, maybe more than a hundred - Senators and staff alike. The remaining government has scattered and is in disarray as a result. No one seems to know if the King is among the fallen, and if he is, whether the Princess will ascend - assuming she survived as well.
”It’s a sticky crisis. The Senate voted to end primogeniture, but no one yet knows who survived the attack, or who precipitated it. Some say the Princess sent troops in as soon as she was in line for the throne, to dispose of the King and her political opponents, but I don’t believe that. Still, it’s hard to know, at this point, who is in charge.”
”Quite right, the Senator’s gift!” The man opens a drawer in an end table next to where he sits, and takes out a small box done up with a bit of tasteful ribbon.
"Thank you."
Kamari accepts the gift and resists the temptation to shake the box before opening it. She carefully opens the package so as to preserve the ribbon as it might be used to tie her hair into a ponytail for tonight's adventure.
"I'm sure the Princess is well, and I'm sure you're right she did not attack her father."
Kamari opens the gift box to reveal a beautifully painted Noble’s Vigilant Pillbox. It’s a heart shaped pillbox continent three lovely pearls surrounded by crystalline smelling salts. As Kamari looks into the pillbox, he’ll note that the white pearl is dimmed to a dull gray (assuming you still have the poison from the assassins), but also the silver pearl is shining bright blue too…
”Oh my.” says the servant, ”I’ve never seen any of the pearls glow before.” he panics a moment looking at the food he just served you. ”I, I, I hope there’s nothing wrong.”
"Most memorable? I suppose it was when I was... Fourteen? My father brought me to Pictor's Dictums, an old haberdashery on the Imperial Square. Puh-pah had me fitted for the suits I wore on my first diplomatic junket. Imagine, earls and counts jabbering on about the latest political intrigues while sipping on fine Andoran whisky and smoking sweetgrass."
His smile turns to a slight frown.
"I can't say I've found much in common with that lot. They were truly the blue bloods. I believe Earl Vernisant was there. More innocent times, for me at least."
Anselm listens to the gossip about the previous evening while munching on an eclair. His curiosity is piqued by the pillbox.
"Oh, dear, does someone feel ill?"
”Oh my.” says the servant, ”I’ve never seen any of the pearls glow before.” he panics a moment looking at the food he just served you. ”I, I, I hope there’s nothing wrong.”
Kamari was not exactly sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. She quickly hands the box over to those with greater knowledge of such things and waits to see if they've been handed a treasure or a trap.
His curiosity is piqued by the pillbox.
"Oh, dear, does someone feel ill?"
"Don't obfuscate the problem. What's wrong?"
Spellcraft
”Wait, that can’t be right...is that blue?” K’Aldrian asks after he takes a moment to study each of the pearls. ”If I’m right about what these pearls do...we have both poison and disease near us. I can guess where the poison might be, but...the disease? Humpf.”
If allowed, Kort will take the silver pearl and move 10’ away from everyone and check the aura against himself. And then he will call others into the circle to see if there is anyone in particular who much be diseased, one at a time.
Muri, who looks hale enough (for now) trips the pearl. Underfoot, a good clean dog, does not.
The servant doesn't get further away from Muri, but he does look concerned, "Perhaps you should go to the church and have that sorted out."