As your second day in Xin-Edasseril comes to a close, your group gathers together in The Rockfish Inn to recap the events thus far:
- You've cured Vurna Bluingot of her filth fever, and both her and her father Yuleg are ready to leave the city. She knows the way to Shard Cove.
- You've made contact with Flitch. You identified an issue with his forged documentation. He is ready to leave the city when you do.
- You've made contact with Daffrid. She, her husband, and her two children are ready to leave the city. You might be able to get them out of Shard Cove, but the children probably can't swim out to meet the ship.
- When you met Daffrid, you encountered a fugitive stone giant Seddothrum who wishes to be smuggled out of the city. He is unable to pay however. You'll need to make a decision as to whether he's going to leave with you, and which way.
- You have an appointment to meet Themolin tomorrow at the Ministry of Tithes.
- You have yet to make contact with Garrla at the Emerald Guardhouse.
- The ship arrives at Shard Cove on the beginning of the 4th day, so you have one more day to make preparations for anyone leaving by that route.
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Illnore gives a warm smile to the receptionist before the group leaves. "Thank you for your time and efforts--Mesolin, was it? We'll return tomorrow afternoon. Good day, Barralbus; it was a pleasure to meet you."
Once back at the Rockfish Inn, Illnore calls a team meeting to discuss particulars.
"Okay. So I suggest visiting Garrla first thing in the morning so that we can make it to our appointment with Themolin in the afternoon. Along the way, maybe we could discreetly ask around for where we might get flotation devices to help the swimmers? Even if it's planks of wood, that'd be something. It would be hard to drag them all the way out there, but I think the sore muscles would be worth it. What do you guys think?" Her brow furrows. "I'm worried about taking Daffid's family through the docks. Having kids along makes trouble much more likely. But there isn't enough space on the Rolanna’s Prayer for them, Seddothrum, and Vurna and Yuleg. I don't know what to do." She looks to the team for input. Making big decisions isn't Illnore's strong point.
Yuleg scratches at his beard in thought after bringing over more drinks and another fish-based meal. ”Can’t really bring myself to let you break down any of the furnishings - lotta love an’ years in ‘em. But I do have a half-dozen barrels of fish I can empty out.”
Dolan selects a sturdy-looking barrel that doesn't reek too badly of fish and sets about breaking it down into planks and forming those into a raft. It's not until near the end of the night that he notices a defect in a lot of the boards: it seems like the varnish didn't fully seal and some awful fish juice has rotted away the boards from within. You have a complete yet un sea-worthy raft. It's a good thing he noticed the issue before you tried to float on it.
DAY THREE - MORNING
You set forth into the city, through the typical thoroughfare of patrols, checkpoints, blockages, until you arrive at the thickly-columned building with many, many carved likenesses of Runelord Belimarius. A wide courtyard of training apparatuses is busy with patrols returning and setting out. A short line winds out of door of the recruitment area.
A thick-set man with a pristine uniform stands guard at the end of the line. He nods at your approach to the only public-accessible area of the building.
"Garrla?" he casts his eyes upwards as if scanning the skies for inspiration. "Can't say I'm familiar. I know a Galadras, a Gasto, even a Gephret, but no Garrla. Do you know who else is in their patrol, or where they're typically stationed?"
He gestures over another member of the guard. She doesn't recognise the name either, but she fetches her friend who instructs you to talk to someone else in the courtyard. You make a grand trip about the yard but return to the original guard none the wiser for it.
You watch the woman as she gets to the gate out of the courtyard, but she doubles-back, taking a roundabout route along the perimeter of the yard before re-entering the recruitment office.
As you enter the recruitment office, you see the guardswoman Dolan indicated: a dark-haired woman with strong features.
"Wait one moment, change of shift," she says to the line of potential recruits as she takes over the desk from the previous staffmember.
It's a short wait as she processes the form and queries of those before you with practiced efficiency. Eventually, you're standing before the desk. She eyes your group, face unreadable.
"Travellers? Unusual but not uncommon." she raps her knuckles on the jingling chainmail of her armour: "the Emerald Guard takes all kinds. If you have what it takes, it could be yours one day soon. Just tell me the time and the place."
You mention to the guardswoman your possible shared acquaintance Liraug Alerak with a sly wink. The woman narrows her eyes, then nods: "I know them. You are well-recommended for this position then, though I assumed they would be here to recruit in person. I am Astrid Kallade. Could I see your travel papers? I admire your enthusiasm for the emerald guard but considering you are leaving so shortly I'm afraid it wouldn't work out. Ah, leaving in a couple of days? A friend of mine works the docks that day - Ellvard - such a noble, honest, trustworthy figure in our organisation."
She digs out of her pocket a small, black notebook and places it on the desk between you: "Some information that Ellvard might find interesting if you run into him. It's quite precious, so keep it out of sight from prying eyes. I hope you have what it takes." She nods towards the guardsman by the door keeping a keen eye on all who enter and leave. He holds up a young couple and looks over what they're carrying before letting them pass out.
"I can discuss your future prospects with the emerald guard at another time, just let me know when you're planning on leaving."
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While Dolan attempts to find a way to slip the log book into his clothes, Illnore walks around to draw the other guard's eyes away from him. Giving him her most winning smile, she asks: "Excuse me? Hi. I'm Illnore, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your experience as a soldier here. When did you enlist? How long does basic training last, and what does it entail? What have been your assignments since then? ...I know, it's a lot, but I really appreciate your experience and insight."
"Please-" the guard cuts off Illnore mid-stream with a practiced polite snap "-all inquiries to a guardsman not on duty." He slides past her to clap Dolan on the shoulder before reaching into his pocket to snatch out the book. A stern look crosses his features and he looks ready to shout the building down before Astrid cuts through the situation:
"You'll never make a guardsman without being able to handle sensitive material in a discreet manner! The Emerald Guard have eyes keener than our blades, and sharper wits to match." She strides over and retrieves the book. "Good day, I trust you will be more successful in your other future endeavours."
DAY THREE - MIDDAY
Contact made with Astrid - though unable to secure the interesting book - you turn to your next appointment and trek across city to the Ministry of Tithes once more for your scheduled meeting with the clerk Themolin.
A lean, dark-skinned man looks up with a start from behind several stacks of papers, some nearly toppling from the heavy wooden desk upon which they are perched.
"I-I understand that y-you've made an appointment to s-see me. H-how may I-I b-b-be of assistance?" he stammers as he hesitantly rises to his feet.
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"Hello Themolin. I'm Alera of Kliraug Merchants, Inc. Our employer was supposed to arrive himself to discuss his account with you a few days ago, but unfortunate events have held him up, so he sent us instead. We're told there is a credit on the account, yes? We don't want to take up too much of your time, as we have some other errands to run and we need to be back at the Rockfish Inn at curfew tonight." Illnore hopes she's being sufficiently clear and subtle with her emphasis and misdirection for only Themolin to know what she's talking about.
Themolin nods along to Illnore's introduction, a silent calculation running behind his eyes as he takes the measure of each word. His eyes narrow, then grow very wide, and he stammers: "O-oh, y-y-yes, A-alera Kliraug. A m-m-matter of credit. Y-you must understand t-that is a personal matter and this is a place of b-business. W-w-we should discuss that in p-private."
He pulls a card from a stack on his desk and offers it to you: "I have a p-p-place nearby, we can discuss this evening. J-j-just before curfew. Y-y-you understand that I have obligations here. P-p-people would look at me strange for l-leaving early."
As he converses Dolan slides around the desk and leans over surreptitiously. The paper that caught your attention is definitely an affidavit of sale submitted in a recent audit: it shows that the guard Ellvard purchased a painting for a meagre sum and then re-sold the painting to Belimarius's estate for a hefty amount.
Themolin pulls a card and hands it to Dolan: "The address is t-there. It's m-my warehouse slash office. A t-temporary s-solution until I get a n-n-new place to live."
He seems completely oblivious to the skillful larceny that just occurred.
Also yes, you'll be able to get back to the inn just in time to avoid curfew.
Though nearby the Ministry of Tithes, Themolin's office-slash-warehouse sits on a relatively quiet road. It's a sturdy, well-maintained building in stark comparison to the delapidated and crumbling tenement housing surrounding it. The only sign that it's anything more than a warehouse is a piece of torn paper nailed to the door. It flaps back and forth in a light breeze. On it, written in a flourish is "Themolin's Accountancy".
The front door is cracked open. Peering in reveals a narrow corridor surrounded by ceiling-high stacks of crates, barrels, bundles. The gap winds deeper into the building. Ahead you can hear muffled voices. Someone whispering very insistently. As you turn a corner the crate-walls open up a little revealing a very unexpected tableau:
Themolin sits on a half-broken chair, arms bound, body hanging forward limply. His face and shirt are bloodied and burnt.
Beside him stands a recogniseable figure once again inspecting his nails: the once-pristine Barralbus is sweat-stained and scowling. A frenzied look sparks in his eyes: "I KNEW Themolin was suspicious. CONSPIRING with outsiders! My desk will tower over his when I'm through with all of you."
Nearby a man who has the look of hired muscle leans idly against a crate, rapier in his hand flicking it back and forth with obvious boredom.
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"Wait--why would you assume we're conspiring? How do you know we're not here to conduct legitimate business?" Illnore asks with a confused look on her face. If only she'd been quicker than Dolan, perhaps this could all be smoothed over without a fight. (Unlikely, but worth a shot, usually.) With a mental sigh, she decides that making sure neither Barralbus nor his hired help have a chance to tell anyone about this is the safest bet. Shaking her head at all this trouble, she beings to manifest her eidolon. Hey, Chiselnits! Wanna come out and whup some meanies?
Dolan strikes first and fast: the dwarf slips forward almost before the hired muscle has time to react and shanks him in the ribs. In the man's surprise he stumbles back slightly and that saves his life (if only temporarily).
Yakuthiel moves forward with ease, darting around the struggle between Dolan and the thug. He swings at Barralbus, but trying not to cut the man down with his hefty sword makes for a clumsy strike that Barralbus easily side-steps.
Barralbus carefully steps back, giving Yakuthiel's blade a wide berth, before beginning a muttering chant. Flames erupt from the floor beneath Yakuthiel. They dance to Barralbus's command, swirling in a burning haze into a sphere of fire.
"BEHOLD. Even fire obeys me."
The thug clasps at his side with his free hand, feeling blood seep from the wound. He strikes out at Dolan in retaliation. for damage. Emboldened by the hit, he strikes again . The blade whips past Dolan but doesn't connect.
He snarls and flourishes the blade: "The next strike will run you through."
The glare of fire illuminates Darius's mirror, and from the flashing reflections bursts another Darius, this one standing behind the thug. Both Darius's battleaxes fall. One into thin air. The other into an unprotected back. The thug cries out in shock and pain.
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With a sudden pop, Chiselnits appears beside Illnore. "Hey, buddy! We're trying to rescue a guy who's all tied and beaten up, and there's a guy on the other side of this crowd who just burned Yakuthiel! His name might be Barrelbutt. You wanna go give him heck?" (Yes, she knows his real name. She also knows that egomaniacs often get offended by such nicknames, and then they're more likely to make mistakes.)
As he hustles off, Illnore casts Protect Companion on him, then hustles over to the crates and tries to climb up so she can see where Barralbus is.
"You bet I do! Wahoo! Watch out! Coming through!" Chiselnits stretches his viney tendril-legs to step over allies as he makes his way toward the other side of the skirmish. He plops down in the middle of the action and asks the Pathfinders: "Hey guys! Where's the bad guy who burned our pal?"