"Easy, friend," Xavien laughs, gently splaying his hands to show that he means no harm. "Dangerous indeed, if even half of what we heard turns true. We are... a different sort of newcomers. Ones with an eye towards helping, rather than taking."
"Come, ease that bowstring and let us talk. Perhaps we can be helpful to one another."
"Don't call me friend. You do, however, seem different. I am on edge as treachery abounds of late. My own captain of all people, Jaliessa Staubel, is preparing some kind of treachery."
Corran makes a show of yelping and hiding behind Aurelia, though it's an act. In reality he's positioning himself to toss her behind him if she shoots.
Corran can't help but utter, "Damn. You're not a dryad. Yet you are around treasonous plants it seems."
[Aid Aurelia in diplomacy with a well place jest. I can't fail the roll.]
"As you wish, stranger," Xavien replies pleasantly. He pauses, as the word "captain" jumps out at him. He glances at her attire.
She wears the regalia of a Leiutenantin in the Yanmass militia.
Treachery is not our goal, Kenton says, but I very much understand that it would be imprudent of you to take our word for this. He gives the traditional salute of the Taldan Horse. If you're willing to share, please, tell me of this Captain Staubel and their plans.
Xavien dusts off a fallen log and takes a seat, gesturing in a friendly and expectant fashion for the Lieutenant to begin.
She eyes the party before giving a heavy sigh. It's clear that she's more tired than she's letting on. It doesn'ttake long to ascertain Gallindra is on your side in the grand conflict. She tells you that her commanding officer, Jaliessa Staubel, is preparing some kind of treachery and is encamped at an abandoned caravanserai called Tallgrasses. She also divulges that Orvestikar Manor is not an abandoned ruin, but rather a trap Jaliessa is using to dispose of inconveniently loyal soldiers.
"So other than a stroll through the park, what's your stake in all this?"
Corran drops the cowardly facade and steps in front of Aurelia.
"Our stake is our lives, our fortunes and our future. We're patriots, and we stand for Taldor's people, and Grand Princess Eutropia. More or less in that order."
Aurelia steps up to stand beside Corran. "He's more or less right about the order. I think it's fair to say that we all care deeply for our homeland, and for the need for change. Having met the Grand Princess, and having been in the room when the rules of primogeniture were changed... Eutropia is the right, and most stable, choice for Taldor."
"But we know that there are those who will still need convincing. So that's what we're doing. As discretely as we can, when we can be discrete. We are showing faith in you, Gallindra. Will you show faith in us?"
Xavien's expression resolves into a momentary, light-hearted frown. "My colleagues are somewhat remiss in failing to note that we here---here here---to help the people of Yanmass with their current manifold troubles. That is the true calling of nobility, is it not? To serve the people and the nation? The politics is constituent to that call, not its master."
"Alrighty then, I believe you. How can I help? I'm not JOINING you, but I'm happy to aid you"
Xavien bows. "We are grateful, Lieutenant. The best aid you can offer is to stay alive---I trust in your own skill there. Information is useful, too, and you have given us much. Is there anyone else you trust in the city?"
Midafternoon
Kenton expresses his gratitude as well. Where can one find this "Tallgrasses" place? One of the downsides of being new in town is that we don't really know where everything is.
"Tallgrasses is a large caravanserai about 15 miles west of Taldor on the Whistling Plains. If you're new though... may I suggest working on problems in the city first?"
"A fine suggestion," Xavien nods. "Perhaps we could drop by The Savories? The sun is still some hours from setting---we would not be interrupting the dinner service."
He turns to Gallindra. "By the by, let me run some names by you. You would not have heard anything of man named Sir Meir Dratavis, would you? Or a local by the name of Caradinna Farkin? Or a Rhundle Navin, the banker? Perhaps a wandering gnome called Findleby?"
"I've heard of Sir Dratavis, but that's it. the other names mean nothing to me. Savories? Huh, even in times like this, the hottest restaurant in town is a priority I guess."]
Xavien laughs. "Not exactly. We heard rumors of... unsavory dealings there. What have you heard of Dratavis? He is a friend, and missing."
Xavien laughs. "Not exactly. We heard rumors of... unsavory dealings there. What have you heard of Dratavis? He is a friend, and missing."
A conspiracy theorist has gone missing, a woman named Caradinna Farkin. She may know something about strange dreams plaguing Yanmass
It IS midafternoon. The line for dinner has already started.
"Let us drop by the restaurant and see what we can see." During the walk, Xavien thinks over where in Yanmass a conspiracy theorist might be found.
"Oh! Yes, lets! I hear they actually serve this elevated game stew that's supposed to be amazing... Unless you'd rather hear about the latest conspiracy theory..."
Aid Another. I can't fail.
Thinking back on the failed attempts at locating this theorist, Xavien strikes on an idea with a little help from Corran. If you can't lead yourselves to her, maybe you can draw her out.
Upon returning to town, Xavien snaps his fingers, instantly changing his dress to a worn set of what was nice clothing---almost in a Galtan style. A black rag masks much of his face, keeping his identity . He finds a discarded wooden crate and sets it up in a busy street in Coinside.
"Hear ye, hear ye, one and all! Hear what I have to say, before your overlords can shut me up."
"Yanmass, you are being stolen from! Coins picked straight from your pockets, and no I'm not talking about the lowly thief. I speak of the highest thieves! Merchants, what do your so-called taxes really buy you? You believe they buy you security to conduct your business in the market. But did you know that the soldiers your levies pay for are the very ones robbing your caravans? I bet you did not!"
"But I, I have proof! This crime against the people of Yanmass is the work of none other than the High Strategos Pythareus himself and his nefarious agents. It is they who bleed your coinpurse dry in the name of law during the daytime, then rob you of your goods during the night, with the help of demons, ghosts, even Gebbian assassins dressed as bandits to keep your eyes shut and your tongue docile. But my eyes are wide, my tongue untamed! If you would hear my proof, join me at at Clover Rest, at sundown!"
The crowd is split between nodding, laughing, jeering, and fist pumping, but no one stands out yet.
Come sundown, the party sits at a table near (but not too near) Xavien. Alas, he's stood up. No one shows, not even the fist pumping crowd members...
....or do they?
"It's unfortunate that Xavien's gambit didn't pay off. His performance was a convincing one."
"...Or was it?"
Hmm.
There's something written on it. "Caradinna Farkin. Here's her address:"
the address isn't terribly far.
After a small start, Xavien picks up the note and looks it over, then heads into a dark alleyway to change his disguise back to his usual fare.
"Well friends, looks like we have our ticket. Though I must say, I am famished..."
It's been a long day, and there's much to plan. Tomorrow will be just as busy. You've got an address and a restaurant for leads in town. There's still some time to canvass as well.
On the morning of the 21st, what's first?
Xavien's napkin!
The party heads to the address...
This tall but narrow house towers over a weedy yard. The house’s shutters are all closed, but a thin trail of smoke issues from its crooked chimney. Thin sheets of metal are nailed to the front door along with a sign reading, “Absolutely NO solicitors or psychic manipulators!”
Well, we are neither... Kenton says, musing, but this all feels too...I don't know, tidy? I smell a trap.
"I am more inclined to question the sanity of the occupant, if I'm honest. Though I suppose I can understand the desire to keep solicitors away."
"Where are your manners? We're not solicitors. We were invited."
Corran performs the secret knock. You know the one. It's buried in his subconscious from someplace, perhaps there by the will of his creator. Or perhaps he's just slightly mad. In any case... The Secret Knock.
Despite using, what he is SURE is THE Secret Knock... There's no answer. In fact, the gate opens a bit at his strike.
The gate creaks in the wind...
Corran eases the gate open and starts inside.
[i]"Oh, this is the part of the story where the dummies go inside and get murdered. Me first!"
He rests his hand on the hilt of the family blade and starts in, carefully, sure of his steps.
A tired-looking half-orc immediately opens the door. She looks stand-offish, "I don't WANT any. Whatever it is, go!"
Corran wonders for a moment if he does, indeed, count as a, 'psychic manipulator', but then shakes it off.
"We're not solicitors! But we're people who need and want answers, and we here you have some. You may not be accustomed to being listened to, but my companions and I would very much like to hear what you have to say. Maybe we can help each other."
"Go away! You want to find the real answers? Go to Savories! Go to the Encircling Bower! Go anywhere but here!"
"What do you think we shall find at Savories? Or the Encircling Bower?" Xavien asks pleasantly, taking a small but inconsequential half-step towards the gate.
"The REAL Power. And if you don't know what that means, you won't find anything!"
"And if we wanted to unmask the real power, what should we be looking for?"
Xavien studies the half-orc's worn expression.