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Corey cheers for Merida as she attempts the challenge.
"For Team Ginger!!!"
He shouts from the crowd, pumping his fist in the air. He takes a swig of ale and drips a bit on himself as she fails the challenge.
"Aww! Too bad, Merida! Good try, though!"
He hollers.
He then wipes the ale from the front of his shirt.
When it's Corenthiir's turn, he strides confidently forward to an empty corner of the tavern with arms raised and chest out, beckoning the crowd to cheer him on. He dramatically throws his hand upward and snaps his fingers to cast dancing lights, creating a spotlight upon himself and several little rays of multicolored lights to flash on himself and all about the tavern. With all eyes of the crowd upon him, he silences the crowd with a wave of his arms and gives an ostentatious bow. He then quietly mutters an incantation to cast silent image before calling out to the crowd,
"A sideboard and nine cups full of ale, please!!!"
An ornate cabinet befitting the Taldan elite with nine full flagons of ale on top suddenly appears.
The lanky elf grabs a stubby leg of the illusory sideboard and slowly lifts it above his head, feigning to struggle as he does so, without spilling a drop from the cups on top.
The crowd is stunned in silence.
With sideboard held above his head, he takes a swig of ale from the flagon in his other hand, winks to the crowd, then slowly places the sideboard back down.
"For Team Ginger!!!"
He shouts with a fist in the air, then bows to the crowd.
"Thank you!!! Thank you, everyone. Haha! Thank you!"
He says, bowing in response to the eruption of cheers.
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Sylvester claps at Corey's entertaining show. No one had actually said that it had to be an actual sideboard and real cups of ale.
"Well done and not a drop of ale spilt. How about a song for the crowd to top it off."
The litte gnome on top of his trusty dog belts out the central Cayden truism that is the cornerstone of their faith. He hopes that by framing Corey's actions in canonical tradition he can avoid it appearing like pure tomfoolery.
"Don't let the rules get in the way of enjoying what is truly good in life."
Rolf looks at the show, holds up a finger as though he's about to say something, then shakes his head with a smile. "Take your prize, Master Elf!"
With three items in hand, the party returns to Barracuda Cartage. Bullwhip gives the dagger case a shake on the way and is disappointed when the ensconced weapon fails to move.
You're quickly ushered into Jenks' office by one of the mercenaries that were in the courtyard before. He briefly looks over the items, then hands them back to you along with a note. "Well done. You've lived up to your reputation, Agent Shadowtongue. I want you and your team to deliver the items to the Lissalans right away. Their safe house is under an old tattoo shop about a quarter-mile south of here, as The Spider describes in their note."
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Sylvester nods in agreement with Jenks seeing no need for more idle chatter. The gnome proceeds with the note and items in hand towards the old tattoo shop.
Once they are well underway and a good distance away from Barracuda Cartage he turns to his party.
"The tedious part is done. Any ideas about what we might do for mischief?"
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"Well, we're supposed to sabotage the Lissalan safe house as much as possible, right? I don't know what's in there, but defacing any Lissalan altars, taking doors of hinges, and leaving graffiti that looks like the Aspis did it are some ideas I can think of. I'm sure you all can come up with some great ideas, too."
"Hmm. Leaving graffiti sounds like fun."
With a smirk, Corey thinks about how many humorous ways he can misspell the word "Aspis".
"I need to get a bucket of paint and a brush before we go in."
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The gnome yells out to Bullwhip.
"You did not try yet. How about trying for that teak chalice? It would be a nice souvenir."
Not being a chalice sort of person Bullwhip hems and haws about it. "But thar's naw endurance bit, is dare? Dwarves are wasted on liftin'. We're naturals at 'oldin' our bladders though."
And as expected the dwarf comes up short.
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"I don't think that we will be needing any paint today although I admire your imagination. Red has a point about leaving graffiti and about trying to be more subtle in our actions."
He snickers at Seebonickk's suggestion as he always enjoys a good prank.
"As for shaving their heads and beards I don't really think that we have that sort of opportunity although one never knows."
"I suppose we will have to resort to looting and pillaging on the sly perhaps after introducing ourselves as Apsis agents. People remember that we told not to kill any of the Lissalans either so we will have to be careful."
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Merida glances at her bow, then turns to her comrades with a sad expression on her face.
"I cannot use my bow in combat, then - my arrows always have the potential to kill. I will resort to use my blade with the flat side or to grapple."
Her face lights up a bit.
"I do like the idea of graffiti, though."
Tenements sprawl across the portion of the Wharf District between Zincher's Arena, a massive (and highly popular) establishment devoted to bloody combat games; and the similarly solid-looking Gas Forges. The reek of the many chimneys from the latter fills the air. A shop with a faded sign reading "Seven Needles" stands at the end of a dim, trash-strewn alley. The shop looks long-abandoned, its windows cracked and its wooden trim filled with gaps that seem to have been there for a while.
Nothing disturbs the party on approach, and you enter cautiously (or perhaps loudly).
Bullwhip, Corey, Seebonickk, and the Reverend notice that there are footprints in the dust covering the floor of the shop. Everyone but Bullwhip and Merida spot the trap door in the floor.
Apart from the trap door in the floor, Sylvester sees no other concealed entrances or exits.
There are no magical auras in the room.
It soon becomes apparent that there's nothing of interest in this abandoned shop besides the trap door, and neither Sylvester nor Seebonickk can hear anything from the trap door. Seebonickk doesn't spot any traps on it, either.
Shaggy looks up at Sylvester and then over to Corey and then back to Sylvester. Shaggy looks up expectantly at his master. Clearly the canine wants to be included in what ever they are doing.
Sylvester draws his own wand and puts up Mage Armor on Shaggy. The sorcerer then places his almost completely depleted wand back in its holster.
Merida is quite sure that there aren't any.
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Sylvester literally taps Corey with his wand.
"Ta-da!"
The gnome smirks and waits a moment for Corey's reaction. He then speaks a word of power actually activating the wand before handing it back to the bard.
The bard takes his wand back and gives a somewhat surprised look.
"Hey! I'm supposed to be making the jokes around here."He winks back with a smile.
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Corenthiir squats down and grabs the ring of the trap door. He gives a worried look at Merida.
"You sure there aren't any traps?
... Okay."
He slowly, and quietly, opens the lid and peers down into the shaft looking to see if there's a ladder or any light down below.
There is a steep, narrow flight of stairs leading down about fifteen feet, ending at a stone floor. The area is well lit by what looks like torchlight.
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Corenthiir squats down and grabs the ring of the trap door. He gives a worried look at Merida.
"You sure there aren't any traps?
... Okay."
He slowly, and quietly, opens the lid and peers down into the shaft looking to see if there's a ladder or any light down below.
"Oi didn't clap any, an' if dare wus wan someone wud 'av said." says the dwarf plumbing deeper.
The room at the bottom of the stairs is empty of anything interesting. From his position, Bullwhip can see a wide hallway going north, turning east after about forty feet. Red doesn't see anything useful to sabotage in the immediate area.
Cautiously proceeding down the hallway, Seebonickk and Corey don't see anything that gives them pause. Sylvester, though, spots a fragment of writing inscribed on the floor .
There is a magical aura around the writing.
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Corey steps forward as Sly points out the symbol.
"Ahh. Yes. I see it now."
He casts detect magic on the symbol.
Puzzled, he scratches his head.
"Fascinating. The magic is very strange. Something I've never encountered before. It could be corrupted, or maybe... ancient, and its aura has warped through the ages."
Neither Sylvester nor Corey are able to determine what the spell is.