10 Jade, 312th year FCO (Founding of the City of Opal)
The day has dawned hot and humid over the city of Opal. The blue waters of Turquoise Bay are dotted with the ships of a dozen nations, all coming to take advantage of the beginning of the dry season.
The streets are alive as people emerge after the long spell of dreary rainy weather. The Prayer Callers' ritual chants to Quetzalcouatl ring forth from the four prayer towers at the massive Temple of the Feathered Snake, echoing and re-echoing along the bright adobe and brick buildings.
A sailor dressed in Theranan garb lies in the street gutter, snoring loudly, a bottle of cheap rum still tucked in his fingers. A local urchin sidles up to him looking at his belt pouch.
A man dressed in plantation clothes argues excitedly with a dry goods merchant, both of them imitating windmills with their arms and hands. Several Lumpers stand at the road by them, grunting in short pig-like snorts. Armed plantation men watch their boss, grinning at the scene of high theater the haggling indicates.
A trio of Sliss'pok Lizardfolk walk along the raised sidewalk, their faces brightly painted with shamanistic symbols. Long fearsome tridents tipped with razor-sharp obsidian tines are gripped in their hands, and wicked-looking blowguns adorned with exotic feathers are slung on their backs.
Two young plantation scions laugh and swagger down the sidewalk, nimbly avoiding dino droppings so as not to spoil their fine-tooled dino leather boots. They both wear the Clenched Fist cloak broach, indicating they belong to that Sword Circle. Their brightly patterned silk cloaks snap behind them in the freshening ocean breeze.
A group of immigrants sweating in rough wool homespun follow a man dressed in plantation guard gear: Metal breastplate, sword, dagger, cured Lumper-hide helmet and greaves, supple leather gloves that extend to the elbow. He carries a snake fork cane in one hand, the polished mahogany stick bifrucated at the end and sharpened into wicked points. He lectures the newcomers as they walk towards the river, using his cane to punctuate his points:
"Remember when y'all get settled in that everything around here, even the little lizards can have a powerful poison. Y'all evah see a red and black scaly critter 'bout the size of a rat hiding in your privy you best bettah give it some room. That's what we calls a Killquick Lizard round heah, an' it likes to nap in warm wet places, so always check the hole 'fore you put your business end down."
The vine-covered marble pile of the Opal Explorer's Guild looms up in front of you. The Common Room is open for business, and already a ragtag group of wannabe adventurers are crowded along the Posting Poles outside, looking for employment. A well-armored man with half-a-dozen facial scars, a large sword sheathed in a colorful black diamond-patterened dinohide scabbard and several orbiting stones whizzing about his head strides inside, possibly heading for one of the Private Parlors.
Perhaps today would be a good day to look for an adventure!
Tragon Stormblade approaches the Explorer's Guild with some sense of familiarity. It is not his first time checking the Posting Poles, although he has yet to be engaged on a real adventure. With the optimism of youth, however, he has returned - bright and early in the morning - and holds out hope that this time his ticket to fortune and adventure awaits.
A young half-orc, tall and well-muscled, Tragon flashes a barely-contained grin as he joins the crowds around the Posting Poles. The energy of the place - so many souls seeking fame and fortune, or to make their mark on the world - has always drawn him. He sports his chain shirt with a pair of blades hanging at his sides, as if he is prepared to slay a dragon this very instant, right in the middle of Opal. His black hair and beard are well-groomed, and his ears are adorned with several piercings. While his stature and dress might otherwise cut an intimidating figure, his wide-eyed enthusiasm and easy bearing lend a welcoming air.
He looks to see if any new jobs are posted that interest him, but can't help people-watching among the other would-be adventurers at the Guild.
Tragon sees a few of his friends already seated at one of the long tables fronting the veranda. The day is hot, but the breeze off Turquoise Bay is sweet and brings a tang of salt air to the open room. He grabs a seat and starts chatting with the others. They are a mixed lot, some local, others washashores. They are all looking for a good score, and they've often helped each other out with the occasional tip or place to crash.
13 Spider is in attendance, the young priest regaling the others about the ships he has seen in the harbor for the trading season when a small figure approaches their table.
It's an older halfling woman, from the colorful silks she wears and the brown many-braided hairstyle a native of Parakeet Island. Her face is tanned dark brown by the tropical sun, and her eyes are a faded green like old copper pieces. She approaches the table and greets you all with a rich accent, rolling her R's and stretching her vowels in typical Parakeet Islander dialect
"Greetings, adventurers. I bring you a message from my mistress. She be looking to hire some up-an-comin' young spirits such as yourselves."
She hands you a vellum scroll
"Would you be interested?"
10 Jade, 312th year FCO (Founding of the City of Opal)
Seated at the table, towering over the others is Jakun. The Minotaur sports a bull head and a fully human body, although his legs and arms are bulging with almost superhuman muscles. Even through his red wizard robes his muscled form can be seen. His horns are black and his fur is red, he has a scar across his chin. On the back of his chair is hung a pack and against the table leans quarterstaff.
Jakun takes the scroll and reads it, "A free dinner hey? That would be worth the visit for that reason alone.
Is this a visit by chance or has your Mistress heard of any of us by name?"
He passes it to 13 Spider next.
The halfling woman nods
“She’s heard tell of Yeh. You all are young, but spirited. Yeh’re lookin to make a mark for yourselves in Opal. She’s your ticket. Not many young’uns get this kind of chance”
13 Spider looks over the paper. He nods, the feathered cloche hat he wears as part of his priestly vestments bobs
“The Vellascas are an old family. They date back to the Founding”
He passes the scroll to the next person
Narl takes the paper from 13 Spiders and glances at it. “Well this certainly has potential to it. I pleasant dinner and a possible means of making a name for ourselves. Well I for one am in.” He reaches over and takes hold of his mahogany staff that is tipped in silver at the top. His raven Caldratti squawks and he feeds it some meat from his plate. “Everyone else game?”
“Plus it will give me an opportunity to wear my formal wears haven’t had much chance to do that since I have been here.”
Tragon eagerly reads the invitation. ”It sounds like a promising opportunity,” he says, ”but do you think formal wear is truly required? I, uh...” He trails off with a look of disappointment.
Steeling his resolve, he looks to the halfling woman. ”Is a certain manner of dress expected?” he asks, dreading the answer. In the meanwhile, he passes the document on to the next person.
Corvidae accepts the parchment from Tragon's outstretched hand, glancing at it and pursing her lips. "An interesting offer to be sure. And one that I most certainly plan to accept."
She hands the parchment on to the next person and turns back to the Halfling. "You may tell your mistress that I will be amongst those in attendance."
Tragon eagerly reads the invitation. ”It sounds like a promising opportunity,” he says, ”but do you think formal wear is truly required? I, uh...” He trails off with a look of disappointment.
Steeling his resolve, he looks to the halfling woman. ”Is a certain manner of dress expected?” he asks, dreading the answer. In the meanwhile, he passes the document on to the next person.
The halfling woman smiles
“I’d take a swim an’ mebbe pay a laundress to go over your clothes, but mah mistress knows you ain’t royalty. She’s not hirin’ you to go to a fancy ball. Come clean, but come as ye’ are”
Narl looks at Tragon and smiles a friendly smile. Then quietly says. 'If you want to spruce your wardrobe up some let me know. I know a tailor in town his name is Armus he is very reasonable ... and can be quick too. If we went today I bet he would fit you in as a favor for me." He shrugs. "You can never make a second first impression my father always told me."
"I've a spell that can clean clothes it's how I keep this robe so fine despite it being my only clothes outside of small breeches for bedtime!"
Tragon looks to Narl and responds quietly, ”If your tailor can outfit me on a budget... I would certainly like to make a good impression.”
"Sure no problem. Have him put it under my account for now. If it helps us get the job its good for us all."
A paw-like hand snakes up from below table level and snags the passing parchment. A moment later, a pair of bright brown eyes in a face covered by brown fur appears, followed by the rest of the ratman climbing onto a chair that's rather tall for him.
"Ya wasn't gonna leave yer ol' pal Norveg out of a good feed, was ya?"
He looks his fellows up and down, holding the parchment in one paw after he reads it.
"Whaddyer thinkin, formal dress? She wants adventurers, roit, not prissy noblemen. She ain't interviewin' for the next ruddy Minister of Finance. This'll do." He waves his other "paw" - a steel claw - at his outfit of studded leather armor - used, but still clean and rather nice looking. An unusual shield is clipped to the belt under his remaining paw.
"Come as yer are, am I roit?"
Jakun nods to Norveg, "Agreed. If we were Nobles in fancy dress we would not need to be adventurers hey?"
A small, three-clawed hand reaches up from below the table edge, followed by a wisp of smoke. The claw plucks the paper from the paw of Norveg.
"Excuse, pleasse."
The voice is calm, quiet, and heavily Orientally accented.
The paper vanishes below the table's edge. Another wisp of smoke rises.
"Ah. I ssee. Mosst intriguing."
The claw returns the page to the tabletop. Followed shortly by another small humanoid climbing nimbly into the 'normal-sized' chair next to Norveg.
It is a kobold. The creature is of average size for his race, with a yellow hue to his scales, and long, drooping dragon-whiskers. The whiskers and the bone spur of his chin give the effect of what is called a 'Fu-Manchu' mustache among humanoids who grow hair. He holds a curved, bulbous pipe clenched in his jaw. With a trail of smoke curling from the pipe and his nostrils at the same time, he does resemble the dragons that all Kobolds claim to be descended from. He nods politely to the others.
"Did I hear correctly? You All wish to attend?"
He looks at his own padded gambeson. Which looks like a greatcoat on the diminutive dragon-kin.
"One hopess that oness best iss enough." He says sagely, puffing his pipe.
The bag at the back of Jakun's chair shifts and a vocal croak emanates, out from the bag sticks the head of a small reptile. It's features are a bit pre-historic. Jakun grabs a slab of meat from the table and feeds it to the creature, "Go back to your rest Kossel".
The creature greedily snaps the meat from the minotaurs' fingers drawing blood. Jakun chuckles as the creature sticks his head back down croaking once again in reptilian defiance, "Yes, next time I will feed it to you before it grows too cold!"
Narl stands his 6'1 frame is not overly intimidating or strong looking but he does seem to have a presence about ... a charisma if you will. He is handsome yet quite white with long white locks of hair (OOC: Think of Julian Sands in Warlock) he is most certainly an albino and his eyes are deep blue color. He always dresses well and is fastidious with her person. Everyone who has spoken with him has found him amiable and helpful and there is distinctly an intellect behind his eyes. He always seems to know people or at least they know him he has a knack for knowing the upper crust of society even if he doesn't seem to be a part of it he is accepted by them. Yet he is just as comfortable at a palace as well as a dive bar. Those that have mocked him have experienced their mistake yet he doesn't seem to go overboard either. He is a man of secrets yet affable enough that people generally don't pry too much.
"Well I for one plan to dress up for this event if you don't want to that is certainly your prerogative, I hope you all won't judge me for wanting to do so." He smiles at all of them leaves money for his bill plus a generous tip look forward to catching up with everyone tomorrow night then you all know where to find me. " As many in the group now he has found quarters in the West Faring near the university. He has found work as a scholar here in the city and can be found at the Steel Quill when not here.
The creature greedily snaps the meat from the minotaurs' fingers drawing blood. Jakun chuckles as the creature sticks his head back down croaking once again in reptilian defiance, "Yes, next time I will feed it to you before it grows too cold!"
Taishe makes a hissing sound, not unlike escaping air from a gnomish contraption.
It takes a moment to realize he is laughing, or chuckling at least."A wise humanoid once said, 'It is not prudent to come between a dinosaur and it's dinner. Unless one wishes to BECOME it's dinner.' I can only presume that he meant dinos of all sizes." The Kobold says sagely.
"Well I for one plan to dress up for this event if you don't want to that is certainly your prerogative, I hope you all won't judge me for wanting to do so." He smiles at all of them leaves money for his bill plus a generous tip. "I look forward to catching up with everyone tomorrow night then, you all know where to find me. "
Taishe nods to Narl as the albino rises to leave.
"Indeed. A good day to you Masster Narl."
"I wonder what the job entails," Corvidae muses as she feeds a scrap of meat to the Raven perched on the back of her chair. "I must confess that I am in need of some coin. My parents have decided that 'fending for myself' will be good for me. I naturally don't disagree, but cutting my allowance off entirely was a blow." She sighs and pats the strange blade at her hip. "At least father thought it prudent that I take my family's ancestral sword for protection. That at least shows that he has faith in my abilities."
She finishes the last of her meal, giving the Raven one more scrap of meat, then stands. "It has been an eventful day, and we are barely out of morning. I await what the rest of the day has to bring." She prompts the raven up onto her arm with a quiet *caw* and then settles it onto her shoulder. She nods to the rest of her companions seated before her. "I'm going to go and let my father know that I have a job. That should make him happy at least."
Turning, she strides purposefully from the Common Room, her air of casual menace causing to people scuttle out of her way.
Tragon looks to Narl as he rises. ”I have heard what the others have said, but I will still take you up on your offer, if it still stands,” he says with resolve. ”’Come as you are’” is easy to say for a well-traveled scholar or a nobleman’s disinherited daughter. I keep my armor well, it is true, but I am still a carpenter’s son. My finest trousers have had the knees patched four times, and my shirts are all stained with sweat and sand. I am not ashamed of my parents; they work hard, and honestly. I would make them proud. Coin is dear, but I will not wear rags to a proper dinner with my new employer.” He holds his head high, as if defying the universe to cast judgment upon his humble origins.
Taishe nods.
"I have never known any who were ashamed of honest work. I have known many who avoided it when possible." His tongue flickers in and out quickly, a kobolds' version of a smirk.
"Sstill, 'He who takess care of otherss, musst firsst take care of himsself.' Or sso I was taught." The kobold adds.
"DO let me know how good thiss tailor iss please Tragon. If he can properly ssize one as large as you, he should have no difficulty with one of my stature."
Narl shrugs. "Of course my friend let us go."
As Taishe asks that question Narl smiles. "He is quite talented my friend and he is a halfling so I think he would be able to size you as well."
"Anyone callin' me a scholar or noble is lookin fer trouble," Norveg proclaims, smacking a paw on the table. "But real toffs, they know the value o' things. An they're smart 'bout their money. No shame in wearin armor, loik, and good stuff is a smart investment, roit? They'll know I'm a canny bloke."
Rising from the table, he licks one finger and uses it to smooth an eyebrow. "Meantime, gents, I'm off ta get me fur crimped. See you gennlemen on the morrow." He swaggers from the room in his best impression of a rich dandy.
"My friends, a fine day!" Brion mumbles with a slice of buttered bread in his mouth.
Brion stands 5'6". His appearance is disheveled; wearing a loose fitting shirt and breeches, and his long black hair a mess, instead of his normal well kept appearance.
"So what do we have going on, eh?", he scarfs down the last piece of bread. "
The note gets passed around and the halfling woman nods
“Those of yeh interested, be at the mansion at 6PM sharp tomorrow. We’ll have dinner for Yeh’, so bring yer appetites”
The woman walks off and exits the Explorers’ Guild.
The open room buzzes with activity. Various folk from all over Arcaia mix with a Opalline natives, many engaged in intense conversations. Waitstaff bring over trays of rum punch, Frothed chocolatl, and bowls of seafood chowder to many of the tables
Taishe shakes his head in wonder at the departing Norveg.
"An odd fellow. Most persons like to be complemented on their appearance."
The kobold uses a claw to slide the paper over to Brion.
"It would sseem that we are invited to audition for a potential job opportunity. One confesses to being curious. And hungry." He hisses a chuckle at his own joke.
The kobold nods politely as the messenger excuses herself.
"Would any be interessted in a walk around the city? I find mysself loathe to return to my apartment and my alchemy set on such a nicsse day."
Tragon rises and follows Narl. He is nervous about the expense, but wants to look his best. As they walk, he talks a bit about himself and also asks questions about Narl’s background (if he is forthcoming). He stands awkwardly for the tailor, but is excited to get some proper clothes.
Jakun nods to Taishe and takes the walk. The Minotaur has not been here long and is still unfamiliar with it, no way to become more familiar than by walking a place by day and by night.
Taishe empties and tucks away his extinguished pipe, and nimbly hops down from the chair. He chats amiably with Jakun as they walk.
Taishe has not been here much longer than the Minotaur, but he is very observant, and seems to enjoy pointing out things that go unnoticed by others.
The group separates and goes on to do their relative chores. They spend a fun day and evening among the crowds of sailors freshly arrived for the dry season trading
Tragon rises and follows Narl. He is nervous about the expense, but wants to look his best. As they walk, he talks a bit about himself and also asks questions about Narl’s background (if he is forthcoming). He stands awkwardly for the tailor, but is excited to get some proper clothes.
Narl Is pleasant as they talk, asking questions about the city as he is new to the area. He is vague about his past saying he came over from a foreign land and that it was a long trip and he learned much about navigation on that trip. Once they arrive at his tailor he will quietly mention to the tailor to keep the bill low and any extra to bill to his account while Tragon is in the dressing room knowing from his history that Tragon doesn’t have a lot of disposable cash on hand. They get themselves outfitted and then make their way to a local tavern to have a further drink and get better acquainted.
Satisfied, Tragon leaves the tailor, to return in the morning when his tailored garments are finished. He gladly joins Narl for drink, hoping for stories of travel and faraway places.
Satisfied, Tragon leaves the tailor, to return in the morning when his tailored garments are finished. He gladly joins Narl for drink, hoping for stories of travel and faraway places.
Narl is not adverse to talking about his travels across the sea to get to Opal. He also talks of the ports he saw along the way but steers away from talks of his own home city for now.
"Tragon, I must say I think that new outfit suits you. I mean not for everyday but I think it will certainly make a good impression. I for one am looking forward to the dinner and learning more of what our potential employer has in store for us. Seems we will have quite the motley crew as well. I don't think I had met a Minotaur before meeting Jakun."
The group goes about their various business. They get their clothes laundered, go to the wharves to watch the ships unloading, take a coconut and rum break at one of the many vendors walking the city streets.
The next day goes as well, and soon enough they all make their way to the Old City Quarter as the sun sinks low into a bank of reddening clouds.
The Old City is built on a gentle hill overlooking Turquoise Bay. The ancient city walls still stand, but there is only a token guard force stationed to it now, more a city watch than a guard force. A pleasant breeze blows off the bay, bringing a scent of night-blooming jasmine and kiss-me-twice. Vanilla vines crawl up the nearby walls, their small orchid flowers open and adding their perfume.
The houses here are large and ancient, the manses of the Founding families from Vellasia. Large open adobe structures for the most part, roofs tiled in red clay and built to take advantage of the bay breezes.
Soon enough the Vellasca manse looms up into view. An impressive old pile, it sits in one of the better sections of the Old City. There is an adobe wall surrounding the property with an iron gate, but the gate stands open.
Within the gate the driveway leads up to a grand entryway. A circular drive of crushed oyster shells leads the group to a set of marble stairs leading to a massive mahogany double door. A brass knocker in the shape of a sea lion invites knocking.
When struck, the Halfling woman who delivered the message answers the door.
"Ah, yeh're are here. Good. Please come in. The mistress will be with you shortly."
The woman escorts them into a grand foyer of polished marble. Old paintings grace the walls, and a double stair leads up into the upper floors. As they stand and take stock of there surroundings, a group of four persons emerge from a back area.
A handsome half-elf with leather armor and crossed bandoleers of daggers saunters by the group, giving them the up and down. With him is a Hyrkmirian, the 6' tall coal-skinned dwarf/giant also gives the group a quick appraisal. A Sliss'Pok in elaborate shell and wood armor accompanies the two, his face impassive. A Zapatec woman, with facial tattoos follows close to the half-elf, dressed in a typical Opal dress, above-knee length and cut to the thigh for easy movement. The four have identical Sword Circle badges, the image of a Jade Raven. The half elf smiles and nods, speaking in a Dragoran accent
"You must be the lot Lavinia is bringing in to do the chores. Well, good luck to you!"
With that, the four head for the door and make their exit. The halfling woman tuts
"Don't you worry about them. Mistis Lavinia will be down shortly. Please come with me."
She leads the group to a large dining room set with silver plate. Large windows are thrown open, admitting the twilight breeze. The woman instructs several servants to settle the group and get them drinks. Shortly as they ready, a woman arrives.
Lavinia is a beauty. He hair is a sun-bleached ash blonde, an indication of her Vellasian ancestry, but her almond eyes and coppery skin speak of Zapatec ancestry as well. She is dressed richly, but functionally, with a silken sleeveless Opal dress in aquamarine that sets off her eyes. She wears a very functional rapier at her hip and a dagger at the other side. At her breast is a brooch of a sea lion done in gold and jewels. She nods as several folk stand
"Please, please, remain seated. I want to thank you all for coming tonight. I have asked around for a group of young adventurers who would be smart and strong to help me with an issue I have."
The servants begin bringing out the first course, a seafood chowder Opallaise
Taishe meets up with the others as they all walk to the manse. He notes that most of them clean up nicely, and makes polite comments if asked.
When the door is opened, he bows politely to the halfling who opens the door. And enters with the rest, silently admiring the home.
A handsome half-elf with leather armor and crossed bandoleers of daggers saunters by the group, giving them the up and down. With him is a Hyrkmirian, the 6' tall coal-skinned dwarf/giant also gives the group a quick appraisal. A Sliss'Pok in elaborate shell and wood armor accompanies the two, his face impassive. A Zapatec woman, with facial tattoos follows close to the half-elf, dressed in a typical Opal dress, above-knee length and cut to the thigh for easy movement. The four have identical Sword Circle badges, the image of a Jade Raven. The half elf smiles and nods, speaking in a Dragoran accent
"You must be the lot Lavinia is bringing in to do the chores. Well, good luck to you!"
Taishe murmurs, "A prideful man walkss with hiss head high, and does not see the sstone which tripss him. A humble man bowss his head, and mindss his sstepss." only just loud enough for maybe Norveg to hear him. (And maybe the halfling) Since they are the closest in size.
When Lavinia enters the dining room, He scrambles to stand on his chair,and bows politely at her insistence to be seated.
"Thiss one is mosst grateful for your invitation."
The kobold makes a point of looking around the table.
"This one humbly notess that you have gathered oness with a variety of skillss. I confesss curioussity as to the nature of the issue."
Jakun eyes the luxury casually, it does not impress him. The Wizard would sell the house and all of its belongings to pursue magic so he is probably not the best to ask about such niceties.
As the small band passes by the Minotaur snorts and chuckles. Such arrogance is common from his race and he sees no issue with it, the strong project strength, so be it. To project weakness invites disaster.
As the group enters the dining room, Jakun eases into the chair to ensure that it can handle his bulk. As the woman enters her human "beauty" entrances him not, the same way the beauty of the property does not, a girl without horns is not a girl Jakun would entertain wooing.
"I am curious as well. What is this chore?" states the Wizard using the language of the group who passed them by as they first entered.
"Why yes your keen observation is stunning friend. Thank you for the well wishes but my friends and I don't rely on luck perhaps this was why we have been brought in. Hope you and your fellow Green Grackle's a fine day today." Caldratti does a small cackle at his joke at their expense. Narl says as they pass in response to the half-elf's own quip.
Narl takes little notice of the finery around him as he is sued to such things unless a particular artifact or painting catches his eye.
Narl orders a whiskey neat and stands until Mistis Lavinia enters and motions for them to sit.
As they sit down to their meal he smiles and offers up. "Lady Lavinia (using what ever proper title she might have here in the city.) Thank you for inviting us to your wonderful home and to a wonderful meal. I know we are all excited to hear about this proposition you have for myself and my friends here. "
Taishe murmurs, "A prideful man walkss with hiss head high, and does not see the sstone which tripss him. A humble man bowss his head, and mindss his sstepss." only just loud enough for maybe Norveg to hear him. (And maybe the halfling) Since they are the closest in size.
Norveg grins in toothy agreement and replies quite loudly, "That, moi friend, is the whining of a bloke what knows he's irr-elevant. We're gonna get the fun and loot, and he ain't. And he don't matter one bit. These lads and lasses 'ere wif us, they's the ones will have each uvver's backs. These here ones are who matters, roit?"
When Lavinia enters and introduces himself, Norveg resumes his seat, wishing he'd had the smarts to stand on his chair like Taishe rather than peer over the edge of the table at their hostess. After her welcome, he lifts a glass in her direction. "'Ere's to the founder of the feast, loik. This is a roit classy way to recruit heroes, mum. Thanks much for the feed. Mighty quality uv ya." As soon as the chowder is set down, he plunges a spoon into the bowl and is off to the races, keeping both ears open to the table conversation.
As they sit down to their meal he smiles and offers up. "Lady Lavinia (using what ever proper title she might have here in the city.) Thank you for inviting us to your wonderful home and to a wonderful meal. I know we are all excited to hear about this proposition you have for myself and my friends here. "[dice=Knowledge Nobility]1d20 + 8
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20 + 3
Narl can tell a lot from the manse and the Lady Lavinia. There are actual Vellasian portraits on the wall. Narl has seen some in his travels before. Her family is very old. There is a certain ... threadbare quality though. Almost as if the funds are not as plentiful as times gone by. A frayed curtain, a scuffed tile. To the sharp eye they speak volumes
Lady Lavinia nods as the servants bring in a cheese course
“Aye, so I shall tell you."
She waits until everyone gets some cheese and begins
"Recently I have inherited my family's estate. Unfortunately, I also inherited all the debt that comes along with it. My family is an old one, but until recently we were fairly rich in honor but aught else. My parents had begun to change that. They were true scions of Opal, adventures through and through. They sailed the Eastern Isles trading and fighting piracy under the Grand Duke's Marque. They amassed quite a nice fortune.
"My father never believed in keeping valuables in the house. We have a family vault within the dungeons of the Falcon's Roost"
The party knows the Falcon's Roost is the hereditary seat of the Grand Dukes of Opal, in the center of the Old City. The Grand Dukes use a falcon as their emblem.
"It is a magically-warded vault, only unlocked by one of two rings. My parents had one each. My mother lost hers right before she died, and didn't have a chance to have it replaced. My father kept his hidden aboard our family's main vessel, the Blue Nixie. I would search the ship myself, but the mooring fees are overdue and the harbormaster refuses me access. What is worse, I had gathered the funds to pay the mooring fees, and I paid them to the harbormaster's deputy, Sollen Vark. Vark took my money, but when I returned later he and his men refused me access to the Nixie. When I complained to the harbormmaster, Vark swore I never paid him! The harbormaster believed his deputy, and I foolishly didn't ask for a receipt."
Lavinia sighs
"Now I face foreclosure on my house because of debts my parents had run up prior to their deaths. I cannot get another ring in time to satisfy my creditors, and they wish to gain this property. I need someone who is willing to find out what Vark is up to on my family's vessel. I need my father's ring if I am to access my family fortune. If you are willing, I would like yo to try and find it. If you can find the money I paid Vark and steal it back, all the better. Once I have access to my family's money I can pay you all 200 gold pieces each."
Tragon walks stiffly in his newly acquired finery. He continuously fidgets at his collar, clearly telegraphing the image of a man unused to formal wear. Still, he wears an expression of pride at being suitably attired for the occasion. In truth, the garments are well-tailored, but more closely fitted than the loose, open garb to which he is accustomed.
He eases himself uncomfortably into a chair and begins eating his chowder while he listens to the host speak.
Norveg's eyes go wide as the cheese course appears, and he happily piles his plate with a good variety.
Once Lavinia ends her proposal, he swallows a chunk of Sliss'Pok anole curd and clears his throat.
"Beggin yer pardon, mum, but wut's wrong wif them blokes as just left? Wy ain't they gettin' this work?"
Tragon walks stiffly in his newly acquired finery. He continuously fidgets at his collar, clearly telegraphing the image of a man unused to formal wear. Still, he wears an expression of pride at being suitably attired for the occasion. In truth, the garments are well-tailored, but more closely fitted than the loose, open garb to which he is accustomed.
"The new outfit looks good on you friend. It will get more comfortable the more you wear it too. Quite a good look though." He smiles and nods approvingly.
Taishe murmurs, "A prideful man walkss with hiss head high, and does not see the sstone which tripss him. A humble man bowss his head, and mindss his sstepss." only just loud enough for maybe Norveg to hear him. (And maybe the halfling) Since they are the closest in size.Norveg grins in toothy agreement and replies quite loudly, "That, moi friend, is the whining of a bloke what knows he's irr-elevant. We're gonna get the fun and loot, and he ain't. And he don't matter one bit. These lads and lasses 'ere wif us, they's the ones will have each uvver's backs. These here ones are who matters, roit?"
Narl gives Norveg a knowing smile. "Exactly my friend well said."
Norveg's eyes go wide as the cheese course appears, and he happily piles his plate with a good variety.
Once Lavinia ends her proposal, he swallows a chunk of Sliss'Pok anole curd and clears his throat.
"Beggin yer pardon, mum, but wut's wrong wif them blokes as just left? Wy ain't they gettin' this work?"
Lavinia looks a bit embarrassed
“I sent the Jade Ravens up the coast with a message to my uncle. If you are unable to find the ring, my fall back is to beg him for a loan until I can gain access to my family’s vault. “