Litsy picks up some paste with her finger, licks it, and pouts. "Doesn't taste the same." She eats some more. "What? I never said it wasn't good."
She chews thoughtfully. "Eh, d'you think we can sell those? We could give them to our recruiters to sell in the street. No, but seriously, think about it. Front as peddlers, undercover headhunters. No?"
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Variel laughs at Litsy and her teenage antics. Nothing is ever good enough for you is it. This is probably the best I have ever done and all I get is ‘meh, it doesn’t taste the same’. I will just take it then. Of course Variel is not able to snatch it from the quicker Litsy.
Pondering her question though as he tries to get more of the batter Variel stops and nods his head. That isn’t a bad idea Litsy. It gives our agents a legitimate cover to be on the streets as they sell baked goods. With a cart for supplies it could also serve as a drop for any items we may need in a guarded area.
I just don’t think I can match what I did just now and have baked goods taste that well.
"B$$+!**s!" Listy steals another one of Variel's sweets, stuffs it in her pocket, and winks at him. "Just wait until Laria tastes this. She won't let you go before you agree to let her train your arse!"
Sasha has kept her peace up until this point but chimes in even as she adds her part. "I don't see how any of this is supposed to help. Just know if you break anything you're buying it."
As Sasha tosses in her wick a sudden screech emits from all around the table.
WHO DARES STEAL MY SWEETS!
Frowning at the sudden noise, Merelda tries to keep things moving...
"It knows we are here. Quickly! Everybody put your hands, palm down, upon the table! Say nothing yet..."
Lighting the remaining candles that are unlit, she then tosses the herbs she got with Beorn (which seems to be much less than the amount she bought for some reason) into the lead bowl and starts pouring melted waxed from the big ugly metallic-black candle onto the faded and crushed leafs. She then presses the butterfly pendant into the wax, drops the multi-colored scales onto it, then pours more ugly melted wax onto the pendant. She then reaches into the bowl and presses the mess together around the pendant, sealing it together. Pulling out the pewter butterfly on its string, she blows on it and smiles at the others wickedly.
"Now! We begin: Whatever you do, don't let go of the table! It will break your connection to this place and I might not be able to help you after that!"
She quickly places the string around her neck and hangs the still warm mess tucked neatly into her cleavage, and against her breastbone firmly, making sure Beorn gets a REALLY good view of her 'efforts'.
She then places her hands on the table, closes her eyes, and starts 'humming'...and then growling and screeching like two cats 'going at it' in a backyard somewhere. She then tilts her head back and starts to roll her eyes into her head, while a bit of drool starts to run down her chin.
"WHERE ARE YOU SPIRIT! WE SEEK AN AUDIENCE WITH YOUR DRACONIC EMINENCE! WE BESEECH THEE TO WELCOME US TO YOUR DOMICILE GREAT ONE! WHAT...IS...YOUR...NAME?!"
The last sentence seems to come at some great effort from Merelda.
Startled, Litsy looks around her bewilderedly, looking from the source of the voice.
"F!!$ off, mate. They ain't yours," she responds automatically, swallowing down what remained from her pastry in one gulp before she can even realise what she's doing. Probably a professional quirk from spending all these years ruling over a gang of kids.
Her face suddenly lights up. "Oooh, unless it's talking about the- Are you going to use all of those?" she points at Variel's pan.
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Variel also is startled at the loud scream of a voice accusing them of theft. Turning around quickly Variel looks for the source of the sound.
perception
Who..who said that? Sh..sh..show yourself! He then points to the 2 coins on the counter as proof of his actions. We..We have stolen nothing. I..I have paid good coin for the materials and use of this kitchen. Now come out so I can see my accuser.
Variel goes to grab his scimitar from where it was resting while they baked and handed the pan in hand to Litsy as she asks for it. Here, all yours. Once blade was in hand he turned to scan the room with magic.
Detect magic.
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Taking advantage of the pneumatic distraction Pollus curls their left hand into their cuff. Touching a bit of forgotten wire tucked into the seam the Stranger Messages Shelyn and Mr. Smiley in the kitchen. Pollux's voice sounds from just over your left shoulder, close and just out of sight. Almost as if Castor had climbed onto your back and is gently, softly, whispering to you in his masters(?) voice. You can almost feel the whiskers.
Base illusion. Sound and fury signifying nothing. As usual. We are playing someones game. I wonder why and who and why I wonder. Your mock-dragon is likely here. Points is working with it and Opera has gone a whiter shade of pale. You would think someone who has worked around dressing rooms...The thing wants something. All this stagecraft means it's afraid if us. Do we recruit it of bake it in that lovely pastry I smell?
The table tilts suddenly before righting just before the candles fall over.
Oh, and Castor says to save some of that for him or he will do something private in your shoes. I shouldn't worry too much. Last time he just worked on some legal correspondence. There was some spilled ink, and a brass fastener in my left toe box but nothing to spoil a rainy morning.
This spirit is trying to frighten us wuth base trickery! Cease your feeble pranks and face us! Unless you are a mere Pugwampi! Beorn blusters against the unseen force.
Litsy grimaces, and smacks the side of her head with the palm of her hand as if she had a blocked ear. "I hate when he does that."
"So it's magic then?? Isn't that kind of your deal?" she looks at Variel expectantly. "Oi, dragon! You want sweets? Here, dragon!"
As merelda sways and swoons heavy footsteps thump heavily and slowly from one side of the room to the next with no apparent origin. The steps stop unnervingly behind the elf and her chair begins to visibly shake.
In the kitchen things are suddenly much more violent. A deep and terrible roar seems to come from all around while the the stove suddenly and briefly flares to life the flames coming dangerously close to licking the distracted pairs backsides in the distraction. Even as they jump away the hatch leading down into the river from which Ron keeps the bars oyster supply flies open nearly catching Litsy as she bounces away from the flame. Before they can even catch their breath they see one of the pickle barrels begin to tremble briefly before going still once more.
Noticing the din but not seeing whats going on Sasha has to stop herself from erupting from the table and has to settle for yelling. "If you break anything in there you have to buy it!"
It's easy enough for variel to spot the illusion magic once already made aware. He doesn't catch any magic from the fire nor the trapdoor, whether this is because the magic was brief, or due to some other supernatural means Variel can't tell.
Litsy may think of herself as having seen it all -and for someone her age, she perhaps would not have been entirely wrong.
Still, inanimate objects brutally coming to life is a first. Roaring flames shoot from the innocent-looking stove with which Variel cooked his pastries, and can't hold back a scream as she narrowly avoids falling backwards down a hatch that surreptitiously opened itself as she jumped away from the fire -like a maw eager to swallow down a peanut thrown its way. It's only thanks to some miracle that she doesn't drop the pan, though half of its content spills out and splatters on the floor.
Mostly, it means that Merelda may have been right, and the idea riles her up and makes her jaw clench. If the pseudodragon had shown itself at that moment, she could have strangled it.
"If you break anything in there you have to buy it!"
"Wha- you want us to pay for our necks" Litsy shouts back at the barmaid, anger and frustration building up inside her like a volcano ready to erupt.
She glares at the trembling pickle barrel. "That's no f+!&ing illusion this time." Suspecting that the little pest might be hiding in the barrel, she kicks it down, ready to pounce on any god-forsaken winged lizard that might be shoot from it like a jack-in-the-box.
Shaking, Merelda's voice gets rough and sibilant.
"I AM RIVOZssAIR! My horde was ssstolen and only itsss return will put me to ressst! Bring me...GOLD! Treassssure! Only with it'sss return...WILL I RESSSST!"
Who stole your horde?
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Variel watches as everything around him seems to move and react with dangerous intentions. The glimpse he saw under the floor boards was not enough to determine what was going on. The fact that the fire was not magical gave him the largest cause for alarm. Yes Litsy I am trying to pinpoint the magic but it is happening too fast for me to track.
Seeing her take care of the pickle jar Variel moves to take a more offensive tactic. Gathering up handfuls of flour he throws them about the room trying to outline any invisible foes. You work on keeping the place from exploding around us while I see if we can catch what is doing this.
Growling now, Merelda's hands clutch at the table...scratching the surface lightly with her nails.
"You all KNOW WHO...MURDER HOBOSsss! CARELESSsss EVIL PEOPLE WHO WANDER THE LAND AIMLESSssLY AND TAKE TREASsssURE FROM THOSsssE WHO HAVE EARNED IT! ADVENTURERSsss! MURDERERSsss and LOOTERSssss...IDIOTSsss WITH SWORDSss and SsssPELLSsss!"
"Sure. No problem. Sounds easy." Litsy looks around her. She has no idea how to do any of that.
Dismantling whatever looks dangerous seems like a good start. If she could find something big enough to stuck in the hatch and prevent it from opening... Kick the barrels down... Find something that can be put on the stove and won't burn or catch fire to smother the flames...
Litsy does her best to contain the poltergeist tying up, nailing down or generally trying to put sharp objects away from being thrown. The barrel she kicked over refuses to elaborate further on the question of being kicked over for a moment. Then as she decides that the shaking was harmless the lid of the barrel lets out an audible pop as dozens upon dozens of eyeless, eel like creatures slither out of a thick viscous substance that rapidly spreads to cover the kitchen floor in a oozing sticky mess. The eels themselves slither easily through the mess feeling about with mouths lined with feeling tendrils seeking escape. Some manage to slide through the slightly ahar watch splashing into the river below while others coil around your legs in a vain effort to seek sanctuary from their assailants.
"Ok so I need my hoard back and any wealth they're carrying will be seen as stolen goods. So they should make a show of returning hoard by taking their wallets and money pouches and relinquishing them to me. Obviously the dead can't take it. But, and you really need to pay attention, it is imperative they place the money altogether in a place I can easily grab it and run and be seen doing it. Otherwise the final act cannot commence and I'll have to improvise. And someone's life will be very much in danger if I have to improvise. Anyway, cue glaring fiery eyes in the darkness of the rafters in 3, 2, 1 and action."
The main room gets plunged into a dim darkness as the curtains that were left open to allow the afternoon light in fall shut simultaneously. The darkness lasts only for a moment though as the table becomes bathed in an eerie purple light.
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Growling now, Merelda's hands clutch at the table...scratching the surface lightly with her nails.
"You all KNOW WHO...MURDER HOBOSsss! CARELESSsss EVIL PEOPLE WHO WANDER THE LAND AIMLESSssLY AND TAKE TREASsssURE FROM THOSsssE WHO HAVE EARNED IT! ADVENTURERSsss! MURDERERSsss and LOOTERSssss...IDIOTSsss WITH SWORDSss and SsssPELLSsss!"
Hmmm this is interesting... What did your horde look like? What was it's exact value and denomination breakdown? Were there gems? What size, type, and color? Any of the first water? How about artworks or jewelry? Fine weapons, commemorative plates? Cedar hope chest filled with a lace wedding dress yellowed with age and lost hope?" The curtain closest to Pollux, assuming it is within 30', opens revealing the stranger tilting forward attentively on their stool holding a pen and a spill of paper already half covered in notes. Castor sits calmly on the table, half a sprig of catnip dangling from his mouth. "Where did you last see your horde and what was it wearing? And what were you wearing? Answer the second question fist." The stranger raises their eyebrows attentively.
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The flour not revealing anything Variel abandons the idea and reaches to to grab Litsy by her cloak. Lifting her out of the muck he sets her on a counter away from the eel like creatures. Variel hops up then himself kicking goo off his legs.
Well, nothing I am doing is helping. At least we aren’t being injured by all this…so far. Any suggestions?
Litsy grimaces as the furless creatures -eels? giant slugs?- escape the barrels and twist and coil around her legs. The sensation is unpleasant.
Not as unpleasant, however, as to be lift up by Variel like a sack of potatoes. It takes her completely by surprise, but she doesn't resist much.
He does get elbowed in the ribs, a few inches away from his solar plexus -but really, that seemed more like a reflex than intentional.
"Yeah- find the beast and stick its head on a pole," she watches as the eels -they do look a bit more like eels, she decides- flop uselessly on the ground -or dash for the open door, for those favoured by natural selection. "Ugh, I hate I'm even saying this- wait until Gran does her... thing? I dunno. I just hate fighting something I can't see."
"And before you argue, yes, I know it's how I fight, but it's so much more fun when I'm the one not seen."
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He does get elbowed in the ribs, a few inches away from his solar plexus -but really, that seemed more like a reflex than intentional.
Oomph. Hey, oww. Your elbows are sharp there. Rubbing his ribs he looks at Litsy askew. And just how do you propose to find the creature and put its head on the pole. I don’t disagree that it would be nice but so far I have only caught a glimpse of it once under the floor boards and not since.
Perception
Perhaps you are right. It doesn’t sound like much is happening out there other than Pollux making some strange voices and talking about gold and loot. Nothing productive that helps us at the moment.
Litsy thinks about it for a moment. "We'd have to catch it somehow. Either locate it with magic, or-" -
"Wait a minute." She states at Variel, in shock. "You mean you saw where it was? And you didn't say any- Val, good grief! "
"Isn't there some kind of cellar around there?"
Frowning suddenly, Merelda pulls off her cloak, revealing how really tight her spiked leather armor really is, and lays it quickly on the floor in front of the bar's main fire.
She then quickly kneels in front of it, gestures at its empty space and moans...
"FORFEIT! EVERYTHING OF VALUE YOU HAVE ISsss FORFEIT! DOWN TO THE LASsssT COPPER! JEWELRY! TREAURESsss! MAGICSssss! LEAVE HERE...NOW! OR SsssUFFER THE CONSssEQUENCESss MORE DIRE THAN YOU CAN POSSssssssIBLY IMAGINE!"
With a jerking, almost uncontrollable motion, Merelda immediately pulls out a coin purse, then throws hers upon the cloak.
With trembling hands,(and a low WIS score) Beorn places his coin pouch on the cloak.
Not receiving to their questions Pollux rotates on their stool and rests their back against the table. They reach into the yellow coat and remove a small cloth bag.
Individual raisins rise from the bag and float alternately into Castor's and Pollux's mouth.
"Oh right,The Horde." Pollux ostentatiously removes a coin purse. Takes too long opening it. Removes a single copper. Holds it up for inspection, and flicks it vaguely towards the cloak. . Which the coin overshoots landing solidly in the fire.
In the meantime Merelda's coin pouch levitates[ooc{assuming it is withing 30'}[/ooc] over to the table where it hovers just above a lit candle. As the pouch begins to smoke the stranger glances at it once and feeds Castor a raisin.
Litsy shares a knowing look with Variel, inhales deeply, then shouts as loud as she can:
"BEORN! EVERYONE CAN ASK FOR MONEY! EVEN I CAN ASK FOR MONEY- THAT'S HOW CONS WORK! THE CREEPY LADY JUST TOLD YOU A LIE! YOU PICK UP YOUR PURSE THIS INSTANT, YOU IDIOT!"
She shakes her head sadly. "I swear," she says, almost to herself. "The lack of common sense of some people."
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Beorn cringes as Litsy lets out a shout that would make any experienced opera singer nod in appreciation. Looking at the bag, he snatches it back and glares at the trickster.
Hrumph! More shame on me for falling for such a trick. You will not be having this bag of coin.
Ignoring the flying purse filled with pebbles being lit on fire, Merelda turns to Beorn nearby and rages.
"SsssTOLEN! THEFT! MY HOARD MUSssT BE AVENGED WEAKLING HUMAN! YOU HAVE NOW DOOMED YOURSsssELF AND ALL HERE TO..."
At this point Merelda crashes to floor like a wet bag of noodles.
Pollux, could you have Castor wake her up like he did to me earlier?
"No, don't know where she's been. Castor is a rat of wealth and taste after all. But that is an idea."
The burning purse is dropped scattering pebbles about the table.
The candle, however, rises. Gently floating through the air to hover over the collapsed Merelda. To be specific it hovers over her face. To be precise, her mouth. Slowly the candle begins to tip. The pool of liquid wax climbing ever closer to the lip as the flame flares brightly.
"Both sane? We just heard a guy speak in our heads. And we replied," Litsy says pointedly, and jumps off her kitchen counter to trudge back in the main room. She mostly tries to avoid the remaining eels - but stomps her feet to make it clear that any critter dumb enough to stay close will get mercilessly trampled.
She takes in the scene - Beorn standing next to the table, looking pissed off, Merelda lying on her back, seemingly unconscious, and Pollux making a candle levitate above her face menacingly. She makes eye contact with Sasha, and holds out her hands, the very figure of blameless innocence.
"In my defense," she says conversationally. "Nothing got broken in there. Except a few pastries that got thrown on the ground," she looks insistently at Pollux. "And won't stay there for long. And it's mostly her fault."
""Speaking of which. The little f~%!er she tried to exorcise or whatever was hiding underneath the floorboards. You got a room under the kitchen?"
Litsy also notices the room is dark save the flickering candles and the large malevolent eyes glaring down on the group from above.
Not taking notice Sasha replies, "The tavern overhangs the and is built somewhat as part of the dock. Think this place used to be an oyster farm before it was rebuilt. So there's plenty of space below if you want to swim."
As sasha finishes her sentence the table starts to shake violently and the booming voice returns dripping with ancient disdain and disgust for the living.
"THIEVES! DEGENERATES! REPROBATES! FOUL HAIRLESS APES! YOU INVADE MY HOME WAKE ME FROM MY SLUMBER AND DISRESPECT MY THINGS! I WILL RENDER YOUR BLOOD TO SAND! I WILL USE YOUR BLOOD SAND TO REND THE FLESH OFF YOUR BONES THEN USE THE BONES FOR A DEVICE TO TORTURE YOUR KIN FOR GENERATIONS TO COME!"
The table flips over starting a small fire as the candles catch the table cloth. The table doesn't remain on fire for long as something falls from between the eyes that takes the senses a moment to register. Effectively snuffing the fire, as well as coating all those at the table in rancid fish heads and assorted fishguts.
It's an acr of strongwill to keep the seance participants from adding their breakfast to the thickening stench of the fishery tossed upon them.
"IF YOU WILL NOT RETURN WHAT IS MINE THAN YOU FORFEIT YOUR SOULS!"
Litsy nudges Variel, and tries to discreetly point to the dragon's position-by pointing at it very obviously.
The good news is, everyone can definitely see where she's pointing at. The bad news is, so would the dragon, unless it's very blind, or very distracted. " Is it using magic again?-aw, f$&&." In the moment of stupor that follows the rain of dead fish, even her whispers sound like a boom.
"Foolish apes- who got their gold stolen in the first place?" she mutters, then raises her voice. "And what do we get from helping you? Do you even know where your hoard is?"
"Not that I'm not good at finding lost stuff- especially if it's not mine. But you're going to have to throw a few more details if you want this to work."
By the hairy buttocks of the lord of hell! What is this trickery?! Beorn is now smelly and stained as well as almost swindled. Trying to wipe his face clean, he fumes. Well we better get a good bath out of this at the very least!
Surprised by the piscine downpour Pollux lets their concentration slip and Merelda gets a mouth full of flaming wax and heavy wooden candlestick.
Covered in rotting blood and slime Pollux begins to titter.
The smell rolls off the rotting pile and flows into you. All smell all taste is rot. There is nothing that is not rot. You are rot.
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The stranger's laughter grows more robust. Several patterns of laughter, almost several voices are issuing from their throat. There is something basic here, something wrong.
I think she has been enchanted! Whatever this scene has been has become not funny!
I believe has a very special mind. Very special indeed.
Awkwardly getting up and gathering her now fishy-smelling cloak, Merelda staggers to the main door looking both sick and angry.
She plasters herself against it, holding her hands on the walls beyond. She turns her head as far as she can and announces...
"DO NOT LEAVE...whatever the dragon says...DO NOT LEAVE THIS PLACE!"
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...
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Put more effort into it! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Does the spell land? Pollux is laughing…
But no, the magic shatters like a wave crashing on the edge of an island newly uplifted from the seabed.
Castor however does begin to smile.