The Rusty Flagon Inn (Inactive)

Game Master Nightfiend

Understood sheriff, don't deal with the laws, try not to break them. If we do, run; if we can't run, lie; if we can't lie, try the letter. I think we've shown our ability to only mess with the law some, and if Ustalav is as insular as it seems to be, people are far less likely to call for the guards should some indiscretions arise. Gravi smiles at the last.

As the group heads out, Hemlock pauses a moment to consider something. “Fizzledeck’s ship shouldn’t be hard to find. He generally ties off in one of Magnimar’s larger births. The ship is slightly different looking, and understandably so. The name of his vessel is “The Infernal Comet”.

The group spends a small part of the morning preparing for the trip and then heads out to meet with Captain Henderson. The slave ship, now referred to as the prison transport, is tied off along one of Sandpoint’s larger births. You can see a number of well-armed guards standing along the ship’s upper deck. The ship’s crew, which seems to be comprised of a number of rough looking men, appear to be hard at work preparing the ship for departure. A heavy wooden plank, which is easily twenty foot wide, stretches from the ship's upper deck to the dock. Posted up on each side of the dock are two city guards that you recognize as being a couple of the men who were waiting to enter the garrison first thing in the morning. As you approach, one of them breaks off and heads up the plank, while the other greats you. “Well met.” He says while stepping between you and the plank. You can see by the look on his face that he is fairly comfortable with your group. ‘Joe went topside to let the captain know you are here. He mentioned earlier that there was a chance you might be coming along.” After greeting you, the guard steps aside.

From the upper deck, Captain Henderson’s voice can be heard shouting over the ship's main rail “What are you waiting for! Come aboard!” His voice booms much louder than any of the other nearby conversations taking place, which promotes some people to pause and take note.

After boarding the ship, you see Captain Henderson standing at the ship’s helm while directing his crew to quickly secure the ship’s main rigging and untie its dock lines. “We should be underway shortly. Please make yourself comfortable. I expect we will enter Magnimar’s port sometime this evening.” Looking around, you can see that a few changes have been made in the relatively short time the ship has been docked. In addition to the minor changes, you also notice that the ship now has a designated name plaque reading “The Stockade,” and a large flag displaying House Deverin’s crest.

Within the hour, The Stockade is tethered to a number of smaller boats that pull the ship out of its birth and then out to sea. During the process you note the ship’s manifest, which lists the prisoners aboard the ship. The list includes Jubrayl Vhiski (The owner of the Fatman’s Feedbag), Jim Stoot (The Choppers son), Gidra (The female boss from the cave), Arron (The male boss from the cave), and the two captured guards from the cave that you thought where going to be released.

Random Encounter: 1d100 ⇒ 30

The trip along the coast is fairly enjoyable and goes by without incident. The sun shines with clear skies and the wind is mostly favorable for the biggest part of the afternoon. Shortly after the sun begins to wane, Magnimar comes into view. “Looks like we should be making port soon!” The captain shouts out while viewing the city through a looking glass.

As the ship closes the distance, you can see a number of smaller boats rowing your direction. Before long, The Stockade drops sail and prepares to be pulled into port. The familiar sight of the Rusty Flagon Inn can be seen off to the left side of the ship, while Fizzledeck’s ship, The Infernal Comet, is clearly docked off to the right.

After about two hours the ship makes dock and firmly drops its disembarking planks. Captain Henderson and his crew become extremely engrossed with the process of setting the ships dock lines and securing its prisoners for transport. All you manage to get out of the man is a firm nod of respect as you pass by. Down below, you observe what looks like a full regiment of city guards preparing to receive The Stockade’s prisoners. The sun has only recently dipped below the horizon, leaving the city in the interim of night. Along the dock, workers move quickly securing the last shipments of the day, while the city’s light tenders work back and forth lighting beacons along the city’s streets.

Sorry for the wall of text and moving things along so quickly. There was a lot to cover on this post and I simply couldn’t see any other way to cover it without a fair amount of narration. The other option would have been to roleplay it out step by step, which would have taken a lot more time.

Date: Calistril 4th 4712 AR | Time: Early Morning

After boarding the ship, you see Captain Henderson standing at the ship’s helm while directing his crew to quickly secure the ship’s main rigging and untie its dock lines. “We should be underway shortly. Please make yourself comfortable. I expect we will enter Magnimar’s port sometime this evening.” Looking around, you can see that a few changes have been made in the relatively short time the ship has been docked. In addition to the minor changes, you also notice that the ship now has a designated name plaque reading “The Stockade,” and a large flag displaying House Deverin’s crest.

Wayilant smiles down at the Deverin Blade on his hip, a generous gift from the Madam Mayor. A gift given in hope for a better future. The aasimar makes a mental note that for as long as he wields the Deverin Blade, he should act as his best, true self.

Date: Calistril 4th 4712 AR | Time: Early Evening | Weather: Clear Skies::

The trip along the coast is fairly enjoyable and goes by without incident. The sun shines with clear skies and the wind is mostly favorable for the biggest part of the afternoon.

During the trip, once Julie has calmed down from the initial boarding, Wayilant and his adoptive daughter begin her martial education on deck. Wayilant explains each block and strike, lightly tapping Julie's stick so show the young girl the various strike zones in combat. Both Wayilant and Julie begin to list the various blocks and parrys as the cleric performs the strikes.

Shortly after the sun begins to wane, Magnimar comes into view. “Looks like we should be making port soon!” The captain shouts out while viewing the city through a looking glass.

As the ship closes the distance, you can see a number of smaller boats rowing your direction. Before long, The Stockade drops sail and prepares to be pulled into port. The familiar sight of the Rusty Flagon Inn can be seen off to the left side of the ship, while Fizzledeck’s ship, The Infernal Comet, is clearly docked off to the right.

After about two hours the ship makes dock and firmly drops its disembarking planks. Captain Henderson and his crew become extremely engrossed with the process of setting the ships dock lines and securing its prisoners for transport. All you manage to get out of the man is a firm nod of respect as you pass by. Down below, you observe what looks like a full regiment of city guards preparing to receive The Stockade’s prisoners. The sun has only recently dipped below the horizon, leaving the city in the interim of night. Along the dock, workers move quickly securing the last shipments of the day, while the city’s light tenders work back and forth lighting beacons along the city’s streets.

Wayilant points out The Rusty Flagon to Julie and the other new members of The Flagon Slayers. Once on dry Magnimar land, Wayilant takes Julie's hand and addresses his fellow adventurers. "Well, if it's alright with everyone, I'll take Julie and our new members to The Rusty Flagon and introduce then to the Lady, and get started on our report."

"Ah, back to the seas, as a free man walking on deck. Can't say I miss the prison cell that much." Darius inhales some air, heavy on the smell of sea and salt.

"I suppose this will be a quiet, pleasurable cruise. No undead on killing spree on board."

He pauses for a moment and checks the dark waves up ahead.

"Well, not yet, at least..."

---

"Well, if it's alright with everyone, I'll take Julie and our new members to The Rusty Flagon and introduce then to the Lady, and get started on our report."

"We just set foot to the city, and you're already taking us to a tavern. How very Cailianite of you. But not a bad idea..."

Darius looks around him. So this is how the 'other city' looks like... Feels cleaner than Korvosa, at least from this point of view.

Sort of, yes, Bryndis, but also to curry favor with the escort and brings them luck and fortune in business. Gravi supports her conjecture.

Magnimar

I for one, am excited to be back on land. And yes, let's visit the Tavern, I'm sure we can't get into trouble there. the man laughs

Swordplay: During her instruction, Wayilant enjoys Julie’s anticipated attempts to poke him. Her ability to attack, as well as her attempts to defend, are all within the realm of expectation. That said, Wayilant’s attempt to strike Julie seem to fall short more than expected. From his assessment, she is quick as hell and able to avoid being hit vastly more than he anticipated.
_____________________________________________________________________

The hustle and bustle of the marina creates to an exciting moment for those who haven't experienced the luxury of a large city. Voices commonly call out, from all directions, attempting to organize efforts to move larger than average cargo, while merchants of all types work the docks, looking for new prospects to peddle their wares. The smell of the sea's brine mixes heavily with the aroma of nearby open grills as their proprietors take advantage of the catch of the day.

The Rusty Flagon’s previously roped off area is now fully open. Displaying a large, elongated fireplace that now sits comfortably towards the center of the tavern's patio. Although there are still some parts of the tavern under construction, most of the building now shows signs of newly completed construction and fresh paint. In the distance, Wayilant catches sight of Shiela Heidmarch sitting behind the external bar, sifting through what looks like multiple ledgers. The tavern looks fairly busy, with multiple tables filled with adventurous looking types. Neither Darius nor Gravi are overly impressed with the congestion of Magnimar’s docks but find the Rusty Flagon Inn to be an interesting combination of internal Inn with an external tavern that apparently runs full time. Julie, on the other hand, finds the place to be overwhelmingly exciting. Wayilant has a difficult time keep hold of the young girl as she constantly becomes distracted by one thing or another, resulting in multiple attempts to pull him towards just about every vender or shiny object along the way. “Dad, look at that!” She exclaims while pulling on Wayilant’s arm in an attempt to direct him towards a small pouch vender. Before arriving at the vender, she changes course towards what looks like a ring peddler. “Ewww, dad, look at those!” She says as he feels his arm abruptly start being pulled that direction. The young girl’s excitement couldn’t be any higher.

Nearby, Bryndis catches sight of four long ships that bear the banner of Kalsgard. The banner’s long flowing deep blue field backs a depiction of a snowcapped, majestic, Mount Torag. Outlining the depiction, a dwarf’s hammer, a gnome’s spear, a Varisian caravan, and a Tain merchant ship surround the larger image. Without a doubt, the banner brings back some unpleasant memories.

Sitting at a few different tables, Govrina notices a couple different Tieflings sitting and enjoying drink while openly displaying their heritage. While Alina seems to be fairly comfortable with the setting, Talienda feels somewhat out of her element.

"Yes, Julie! I can see!" Wayilant said, in an attempt at a calming manner. "Papa must go talk to the fine lady at the outside bar, and introduce you, and the rest of the new members of The Flagon Slayers. I don't know how long it will take, but if there is time, we shall walk around and see the sights and wonder of Magnimar! So must ask you to be a good girl and be patient."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
Pointing out the studious woman to Darius, Gravi, and 'Rina; Wayilant states. That's Lady Heidmarch. Essentially, our boss.
Come! Let's start with the introductions!"

Seeing the others with fiendish heritage casually going about their day gives Govrina some relief, and she manages to be brave enough to lower her hood and show her wings again.

Noting the Lady Heidmarch reading her ledgers, Govrina sees her seriousness and nods knowing the type. She hopes to make a good first impression.

"Well, let's get this over with then Wayilant. My...OUR...future awaits."

"Well, let's get this over with then Wayilant. My...OUR...future awaits."

Wayilant looked back at Govrina with gratifying smile of encouragement. As the self-appointed 'spiritual leader' of The Flagon Slayers, the aasimar was pleased the newest members were enthusiastic to be onboard. The dleric steps forward toward the tome-strung bar.

Talienda and Alina both curtsey as Wayilant greets Lady Heidmarch, and prompt Julie to do the same.

Shiela looks up from the bar and makes eye contact with Wayilant. Then she glances at the other members of the group. After taking note of each of the new members, she stops at the young girl clinging to Wayilant’s arm and then raises an eyebrow. “The Flagon Slayers. Let me see.” She says while pulling out a ledger that looks somewhat familiar to those who originally signed up for the mission. After placing the ledger on the bar, she opens it and begins flipping through its pages. “Yes, yes, ok, I remember. You took on the mission from Sandpoint. I believe it was commissioned by Lady Deverin.” She says after finding the correct entry. It says here you were successful, and Mayor Deverin has recently paid her share of the commission.”

After taking stock of your group, she looks back down at the ledger. “Well, the society thanks you for your participation thus fare. Are you looking for another commission?” She asks while glancing back down at Julie. “You said something about new party members, does that include this young lady?” You notice the noble woman’s eyes drift from Julie to the sword hanging from Wayilant’s belt. “It would seem that you made a good impression on the mayor.”

After taking stock of your group, she looks back down at the ledger. “Well, the society thanks you for your participation thus fare. Are you looking for another commission?” She asks while glancing back down at Julie. “You said something about new party members, does that include this young lady?” You notice the noble woman’s eyes drift from Julie to the sword hanging from Wayilant’s belt. “It would seem that you made a good impression on the mayor.”

"Yes, Lady Heidmarch. This is my adoptive daughter, Julie Arden. She was living on Sandpoint's streets when we found her." Wayilant adjusts the rapier scabbard on his hip. "As for the rapier, a touching gift from Mayor Deverin."

The cleric cleared his throat. "As for our next commission, The Flagon Slayers are on en route to it. The Flagon Slayers will be traveling to Ustalav, to deal with a group of being traffickers who were responsible for several disappearances in the Sandpoint area. It is entirely likely you have not heard of it yet as we have just arrived. I would turn the discussion over to Lady Talienda or Bryndis for more indepth information of our work in Sandpoint."
Wayilant stands back, holding Julie's hand.

"Also, there is something that I should discuss with you, privately if at all possible," Talienda says.

Just to keep things moving, Talienda would relay what she knows about what was happening in Sandpoint including how Gravi saved Govrina and raiding the sea cave hideout. If Lady Heidmarch agrees to talk to her privately, Tali will tell her about how she's being hunted by enemies of her father and how she was chased out of Absolom as well as Hecka Heckles knowing she's in the area.

Bryndís is content to remain on deck while sailing to Magnimar. Mostly she lounges and watches what the crew does while operating the ship. She figures anything she learns might be useful someday.

She's spent some time in Magimar, so on arrival Bryndís needs no extra time to orient herself or take in the sights. Her first priority is getting to the Pathfinder Society lodge and locking down any bounties available in Ustalav.

When she notices the ships from Kalsgard, Bryndís expedites her departure from the docks while trying to stay in crowds or keep plenty of people between herself and line of sight to the ships. She also tries to be subtle about it.

At the Pathfinder Lodge, Bryndís seizes upon Sheila Heidmarch's question about further commissions.

"Like Wayilant said, we have one for Ustalav. But, since we are laready going so far, we also want the other commissions there. We will do them all before we come back. What are they?"

"There is another thing about the slavers, something I do not know if we can settle ourselves."

Bryndís takes out the small bag she has been carrying the lockets in and dumps them all out of the bar.

"All the women in these lockets are dead now. These were made by the slavers. Since the pictures show who they are, their families could find out what happened to them. But who would know how to find where the families are best? We do not have the time to look before we leave, so we should give these to someone who can do this."

Shelia listens quietly as Talienda accounts for the group’s experience in Sandpoint and then takes a close look at the lockets that Bryndis dumps on the table. After a close examination of the lockets, she responds. “What makes you think the slavers made these lockets? These look to be the handy work of one of our local artists. I have seen them commonly among some of Magnimar’s escorts. Anyway, I would be willing investigate this further if you like. I believe I might be able to recruit some aid from the local law in this matter. That’s assuming you are ok with the society stepping in.”

“So, you say that you have an objective in the Principality of Ustalav. Am I correct in assuming that this trip is being arranged by Mayor Deverin?” Sheila asks while flipping through a couple of the pages in the ledger.

“Well, let’s see. Luckily for you, quests originating from Ustalav don’t get select very often. Considering the distance, it’s not surprising. Looks like this one is still available.” After sitting the ledger on the bar, Shiela points at one of the entries.

“Lost Minimum Wage Guy:” On the seventh page, second entry: The curator of the Quarterfaux Archive’s Museum, which is a subdivision of the archive, is requesting help locating a missing assistant. The contract offers round trip accommodations aboard a merchant vessel to Caliphas and four paid nights at a location of the group’s choice. The contract offers 1,000 gp on completion, with another 1,000 gp if the assistant is returned. The contract is sponsored by the Quarterfaux Archive. The listed contact is the museum’s curator Cynthia Nail.

“And I think there was another one, if memory serves me correctly.” After flipping back a page, she locates another entry.

"Oh yes. Here it is.” She says while pointing at another entry.

“No More Squatters:” On the sixth page, first entry: A request to investigate and eliminate suspected cult activity north of Caliphas, in Ustalav, stands out as one of the higher paying contracts. The contract provides comfortable round-trip travel and accommodations at the Vodavani Lodge for the group’s entire stay. The contract offers 2,000 gp upon conformation of the cult and another 6,000 gp if they are eliminated. The sponsor for the contract is the Royal House of Ordranti. The listed contact is Lord Leopold the III.

“This one seems like it might be aligned with the story you just told me about the slavers. I believe there was also a third request, something to do with a missing heirloom, but that one was accepted by a group shortly after you left.”

As Wayilent, Bryndis and Talienda engage in conversation with the woman in the Inn, Darius turns to Govrina. "Who's the lady? A Pathfinder?" he whispers. He thinks he has heard the name 'Heidmarch' before, but with with all that has been happening lately, he doesn't quite connect the name so anything.

But listening to what is being said, he keeps nodding. Makes sense to take more jobs if the group will be heading to Ustalav. A quite a lot of gold involved here as well. The Flagon Slayers seem to be swimming in money soon. A very good choice to join this lot...

Frantically, Wayilant stepped forward. "Lady Heidmarch! That's a loty of information! Can I borrow some parchment? I need to write this all down!!"

After removing a small box from under the bar, Shiela shuffles around the area for a moment and then pulls out a piece of parchment. Shortly after sliding the parchment over to Wayilant, she opens the small box and pulls out a vial of ink and a pen. "If you decide to take on one or more of these Ustalav quests, I will need you to sign next to the quest you wish to undertake. Same as before.”

Off in the distance, a large group of loud individuals seem catch your attention as they make their way towards the Rusty Flagon Inn. By the sound of it, they heavily indulge in wat sounds like a tirade of banter that seems to be oriented on masculinity, or in this case, the lack of it. The joking ends in many deep laughs, followed by a whole new slew of insults and banter.

While the distant commotion continues, Bryndis picks up a feeling of deep hatred towards Shiela. Now able to separate her own feelings from those of Shadow Talen, she is able to determine the feeling is coming from the sword.

Bryndís is surprised and curious about her sword's reaction to Sheila Heidmarch. This emotion feels different than the ones that she has felt before she thinks. The sword is happy, or satisfied, when it is doing violence. When too much time passes in peace, the sword grows restless, perhaps petulant in it's impatience.

Either way, the emotion is generalized. As far as she can tell, killing more or less anything is good enough. Directed hatred is quite a different thing. At the risk of seeming distracted, Bryndís decides to try something new. She concentrates and tries to communicate with the sword using her mind.

What is the problem?

She keeps things simple for the first test.

In response, Bryndis receives a feeling of impatience and disdain.

Before long, the loud group that had been walking along the dock, enters the Rusty Flagon's patio. A group of what looks like ten to twelve intoxicated Ulfen’s begin joking about the length of the inn's hearth and how some common city people have a bigger fire pit than some of the members of their group. The group seems to be in good spirits, which is obviously enhanced by their intoxication. After entering the Rusty Flagon, they find a couple of tables, which they drag together to accommodate for their group’s size. Among the fur covered Ulfens, you notice a single light skinned elf sitting quietly off to one side of the group. He seems to be tolerating the buffoonery that is taking place around him but is obviously not happy about it. Soon, orders for ale and food are shouted across the room towards one of the servers, who intern scrabbles to keep up with the multitude of requests.

Govrina dislikes bullies. Trying not to seem obvious about it, she watches the Ulfen casually...

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Wayilant scribbles down the details of both jobs on the parchment, then passes the postings around to the other Flagon Slayers.
"Well, Slayers? What do you think? Should we take one or both jobs?"

Govrina Perception 17 You notice that most of the stalky men seem to glance over at your group from time to time. In most cases, they tend to pay more attention to Bryndis than anyone else. By the sound of it, you suspect they find her attractive. The pale elf, on the other hand, does glance your way with a look of interest. He seems to be more intrigued by your appearance than the rest of his group, or anyone else in the tavern for that matter.

"At the risk of biting off more than we can chew, I say we take them both."

"I second Lady T's idea", Wayilant smiled.

Distracted at the moment, Govrina replies cautiously.

"Huh? Um..yeah sure. Whatever you guys think is best."

Gravi watches the Ulfen group with mild interest as they approach and take up their place in the tavern, as Lady Hiedmarch asks about the quests and the others agree to both missions, he speaks up, We can do those I think for sure.

Bryndís isn't going to bargain or compromise with the sword. It will have to learn and accept that she makes the decisions.

You will be patient and control yourself. Do not disturb me.

"We will take both. They are even in the same city's area. The extra commission will make the long time spent traveling worth it."

It's irritating that the men from the ship have come to the tavern. It is one thing to dodge them down on the wharves, but here avoiding them would be more memorable than engaging with them probably would be. Bryndís decides to keep the conversation as brief as possible.

She pushes the pile of lockets toward Sheila.

"Yes, take them and do what you can."

Running the fingers of both hands through her hair to fluff and straighten it out a bit also allows her to position it to hide her ears. Bryndís gets up from the bar, saying "I will go greet my countrymen." Then, she walks over to their tables. When is she close enough she says hello.

"Vel mætt með flækingum. Ferðu til að versla, til að ráðast á, eða hvort tveggja ef auðæfi leyfir? Ég er Hjördís. Þessi borg er Magimar þar sem viðskiptin eru góð, svo hagið yður hér að þú gætir verið velkominn aftur ef þú kemur aftur."

Even if one doesn't speak Skald, the tone of Bryndís's voice toward the end suggests she is joking or teasing a little, maybe to break the ice.

One of the stockier men at the table turns towards Bryndis as she begins speaking. His muscular physique is accented by a piecemeal shoulder harness that coats his right arm with leather lined bronze plate. From the waist down, he wears multiple layers of leather armor that drapes all the way down to his knees. The man smiles as Bryndis begins speaking in skald.

“Við komum til að taka þátt í krossferðinni. Það eru mikil umbun fyrir þá sem standa eftir. Djöfulsins hjörð skilja auðinn eftir fyrir þá sem eru nógu sterkir til að taka hann. Svo við förum að safna okkar hlut. Við berjumst eins og sterkir menn og gleðjumst síðan yfir herfangi. Þú ættir að koma með okkur. Þú lítur sterk út. Við gætum notað sterkan skjöld. Það verður nóg herfang til að fara um.

The pale elf sitting at the table takes an inquisitive look at Bryndis and then tilts his head slightly. It almost looks as if he might recognize her in some way, but remains silent.

While Bryndis spends a few moments conversing with the Ulfens, Shiela slides a vial of ink closer to Wayilant. “This is most welcome. If you can truly accomplish both these objectives, it would remove a heavy load off my shoulders. I was beginning to think that no one would be willing to travel to Ustalav. Which of the two travel arrangements would you like to use?” She asks while pulling out a small box filled with letters.

"Sheriff Hemlock was kind enough to make some arrangements for us," Talienda says. "Are you familiar with a Captain Fizzledeck, milady?"

It is reassuring to Bryndís when she hears from the big man they are joining the crusade. If they are journeying away from the Linnorm Kingdoms more time will pass before they return. They will have better and more memorable stories to tell when they do return. Also, it is quite likely they will all die anyway. She relaxes some.

"Ó! Þið sverið öll eiðinn um að berjast í púkalöndunum! Mjög áhrifamikið! Stríðsmaður gat ekki fundið betri stað til að öðlast auð og frægð. Við verðum að drekka skál fyrir framtíðarævintýrum þínum!"

Bryndís turns toward the bar and calls for drinks all around the tables on her. Figuring the promise of free booze will keep the warriors busy being happy for a few moments, she makes eye contact with the pale elf as she turns back. She gives him a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. She's curious about him, guessing he is Ilverani based on the sample of two or three of them, including her father, that Bryndís has seen in her life.

Her glance at the elf is brief, something seems strange and this is probably not the best time to probe. Bryndís instead continues speaking with the large man.

"Ég þakka þér fyrir boðið að koma með þér. Ég yrði heiður. Hins vegar hef ég þegar gefið loforð um mitt eigið. Ég fer til Ustalav. Það eru vampírur og dýrkun illrar gyðju sem þarf að leggja fyrir sverðið. Launin eru góð og mér líkar vel við vinnuveitandann."

"Segðu mér, ætlarðu að sigla þangað á skipi þínu, fara upp með Sellen ánni?"

As the drinks begin to arrive, Bryndís squeezes her way into a place at a table. She also communicates a quick message back to her companions at the bar. Her expression and quick head shake tells them "Nope, stay away. This is my business to handle."

Gravi watches the interaction between Bryndis and the group of men, but seeing her relax some in their company, puts it out of his mind, and returns his attention to Sheila Hiedmarch, their employer, and the offer of a ride, Tal's got the right of it, the good man was able to make a connection for us, that mean any extra on these jobs since we're getting there on our own? he asks hopefully.

Picking up on Bryndis’s attempt to join the table, the light haired Ulfen that she has been speaking with shifts his chair in order to make room for her. The light skinned elf doesn’t shy away from making eye contact with her when she glances his direction. In fact, his reaction seems somewhat void of expression, making him a bit difficult to read. Overall, he remains quiet and continues to contemplate while observing the situation.

The light haired Ulfen laughs heartily as Bryndis pulls up a chair. “Ég er Hellgor, annar sonur Dellrogs. Við gleðjumst yfir boði þínu um drykk og bjóðum þig velkominn að borði okkar. Borđađu međ okkur. Drekktu með okkur. Við faðma fyrirtæki þitt. En ég verð að spyrja. Hinir við borðið eru allir að velta fyrir sér. Ertu einhleypur eða hefur þú þegar fundið maka? Afsakaðu hreinskilnina en tíminn er naumur og ég verð að viðurkenna að öllum hér finnst þú mjög aðlaðandi kona. After completing his hearty greeting, you notice that the table becomes unusually quiet as everyone await Bryndis’s response.

Sheila’s eyebrows raise slightly when Talienda mentions Fizzledeck. “Oh my. You managed to secure a ride on captain Fizzledeck’s ship? Now that’s going to be an interesting experience to say the least. I believe he just got done loading a large shipment of raspberry ale from the Fancy Reefclaw into his hold. From what I understand, the dwarves of Kraggodan seem to fancy the drink, making it a fair compensation for their handy work. At the very least, your trip will be well lubricated. I have to say that I’m a bit envious. A trip on Fizzledeck’s ship will be a unique experience and likely one to remember.”

Sheila considers Gravi's question for a moment. 'Well, I could attempt to request a formal adjustment, but that will take some time. At least a week or so. Do you have enough time for me to work something out? Unfortunately, the society isn't the ones setting the parameters on these quests."

It is perhaps for the best that Tali doesn't understand a lick of Skald.

"I'm sure it will be," Talienda says, silently hoping that it won't turn out like the trip to secure the ship the poor girls were on had. "If you'd like I can see if I can paint some of the views I see up there. It wouldn't be like being there yourself, but I think they would make for something unique."

Listen to the chatter of his fellow Slayers, Wayilant chimes up.
"Well, Lady Heidmarch. It looks like the Flagon Slayer will take those two additional jobs in Ustalav. Where shall we sign?"

Watching Bryndis maneuver into the other group relieves Govrina's mind a bit, but she keeps a watch anyway...no need to let things get carried away if it can be prevented.

The man's question really surprises Bryndís. The immediate bluntness is part of it, but she'd certainly never received any compliments about her appearance when she was in Kalsgard either.

It also makes things very dicey. There are a lot of them, and they're already drunk. A flat rejection could go over badly. Suggesting that there was any chance in hell she could be interested in any of them could lead to things among them getting competitive. The situation could go sideways and get out of control very suddenly.

She decides she needs to come up with some sort of third option quickly.

Bryndís chuckles at the combined question and compliment.

"Það var aldrei sagt við mig svona ljúfa hluti allan þann tíma sem ég bjó fyrir norðan. Ég þurfti að ferðast marga kílómetra í burtu þaðan til að norðanmaður gæti sagt þær.

Bryndís keeps her tone light and friendly as she talks. She also takes her hands and brushes her hair back behind her ears on the off chance they had remained concealed from sight. As she brings her arms back down, Bryndís steals another glance at the elf to see if there is any reaction, though she's almost positive he already knows.

"Ertu nú þegar með heimþrá? Eða er munurinn að ég er núna með sverð á beltinu?"

After this bit of joking, Bryndís becomes more sincere.

"En þú ert góður félagsskapur og þú hefur spurt spurninga þinnar með góðum siðum. Því mun ég svara í sama anda. Ég fer bara með konur í rúmið mitt."

Hellgor laughs heartily at Bryndis’s last statement and then slaps her on the back. “Við mennirnir erum sammála um að þú hafir hlýlegan svip á þér. Sterk kona myndi líklega eignast sterk börn. Það ásamt þeirri staðreynd að þú ert augljóslega ekki ókunnur með blað, gerir þig að aðal frambjóðandi fyrir Ulfen konu. Ég virđi val ūitt, ūķtt ég líti persķnulega á ūađ sem missi fyrir alla menn. Jæja þá, drykkir það verður það.” He says while filling another glass with ale from a nearby pitcher.

After putting down a full glass of ale, Hellgor sits down next to Bryndis and continues the conversation in the common language. “So, you say that you and your friends are heading to Ustalav. I have passed through there on more than one occasions. Rightfully wicked place, for sure, but they pay well for the loot that we come across during our raids. I can’t say that I have come across a vampire before, but I have heard stories about them. I drink to your success.” He says just before gulping down another mouthful of ale.

The pale looking elf finally displays a look of surprise when Bryndis uncovers her ears. “An Ulfen Half-elf. How remarkable.” He whispers softly. The look of surprise on the elf's face catches the attention of a number of the man at the table, who intern stare at him for a moment before going back to their drinking. Soon, large platters of well-cooked meat, along with numerous bowls of cheese smothered vegetables, makes its way to the table. Without hesitation, the men begin grabbing and pulling hefty amounts of meat off the platters and then begin indulging themselves.

“Please allow me to prepare you a plate.” Hellgor offers in the politest way he can muster. After filling a plate with a combination of lamb and pork, he adds in a bowl of vegetables and then sits both in front of Bryndis. “Now that we have met and are dinning together, may I know your name?” He asks in a very casual manor.

The pale elf sits a bit forward when he hears Hellgor’s question.

Across the room Shiela points at a small area alongside each of the listed quests. "Similar to the Sandpoint quest, you will sign here. That will indicate that you accept the quest."

"Well, even if we ride with Fizzledeck’s. We should sign up for the accommodation offered in those deals." Darius interrupts. "I especially like the sound of paid nights at a location of the group’s choice..."

"Also, an option for the return trip would be good, in case we find Fizzledeck’s ship a bit too exciting..." he adds with a shrug. It's good to have a plan B. In fact, one can never have too many plans.

Across the room Shiela points at a small area alongside each of the listed quests. "Similar to the Sandpoint quest, you will sign here. That will indicate that you accept the quest."

"Of course", Wayilant answered. The cleric took additional notes from Lady Heidmarch' book, then signed his name.

"Well, even if we ride with Fizzledeck’s. We should sign up for the accommodation offered in those deals." Darius interrupts. "I especially like the sound of paid nights at a location of the group’s choice..."

"Also, an option for the return trip would be good, in case we find Fizzledeck’s ship a bit too exciting..." he adds with a shrug. It's good to have a plan B. In fact, one can never have too many plans.

"Well said, Darius." Wayilant agreed.

The realization is slow to come, but Bryndís begins to understand, or at least thinks she begins to understand, the elf. She starts to feel angry, which burns away all her previous caution. She will confront him, if only through words.

Bryndís looks directly at the elf and switches to elven.

"Is Cainteoir Duairc thú nach bhfuil? Bhuel mar sin, b’fhéidir go bhfuil ainm m’athar ar eolas agat. Is dócha go mallacht tú é."

Since she has decided to go so far, Bryndís decides to do away with all misdirection. Her mother is far too smart to be fooled by something so simple as a disguised given name.

"Ég heiti reyndar ekki Hjördís heldur Bryndís, dóttir Raelyosradins af Ilverani Álfum."

After announcing this to the table, Bryndís again looks at the elf with hard eyes for a moment. Then, looking at all the others she adds

"Vinkonur mínar kallar mig Bryndís Kviku."

Wanting to move on to other, more pleasant subjects, Bryndís asks "Hvernig komuð þið öll að því að sigla saman?"

The elf’s lack of reaction to Bryndis’s emotional declaration seems a bit odd. He sits and listens to the accusation, quietly, before replying. “Is mise Ilverani. Chuige sin, tréaslaím le bhur mbuairt. Chomh táille le bheith i mo Chainteoir Twilight, bhuel, Dá mbeinn, is léir gur ábhar pearsanta é sin idir mé féin agus mo mhuintir. An oiread agus is mór agam d'indulgence lenár dteanga dhúchais, beidh orm é a ghearradh gearr. Is nós leis na bundúchasaigh a dhéanamh rud beag míchompordach, má tá a fhios agat cad atá i gceist agam.”

The elf picks up a small glass of mead and sips it before placing it back on the table and then continuing in the common language. “To be honest, I don’t know your father, or mother for that matter. May I presume he is, or was, a Twilight speaker? Unfortunately, my people tend to look down on such behavior. Their vision, I'm sorry to say, is somewhat shallow. Although I tend to agree with many of our customs, I don’t necessarily agree with all of them. Personally, I think your choice to adventure and see the world is likely the right choice.” After a second sip of mead, the elf pulls over one of the bowls of vegetables and begins eating.

He bites down on a large piece of broccoli before continuing. “After some deep contemplation, I have decided that the danger facing the world, in regard to the World Wound, outweighs my people’s need to be reclusive. My talents are uniquely focused on dealing with demons; thus, I have decided to join the next Mendevian Crusade. I believe this will be the world’s fifth attempt to purge the demonic presence. Anyway, I have linked up with these fine Ulfen warriors and offered my unique skills in exchange for their protection. Together, I believe we can make a meaningful difference. Anyway, all in all, it is a pleasure to meet you Bryndis the Magpie. I have to admit that I can’t say I have ever meat an Ulfen Half-elf before. For me, this is a unique experience.”

Shiela smiles as Wayilant signs the ledger. Moments after, she recovers the book, closes it, and then slides it under the bar. “I look forward to hearing about your progress in these matters. I suspect, even with Fizzledeck’s ship, the trip will be somewhat long and tedious. If you let me know when you are heading out, I can have the Rusty Flagon's staff prepare some travel provisions for you. It should make the trip a little more bearable. For tonight, please eat and drink on the house. My treat.”

"Thank you, Lady Heidmarch. I think I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate both the hospitality and the provisions," Talienda says while hoping her genuine gratitude has come through.

"If you have the time, could I trouble for a private audience? There is something that came up while we were in Sandpoint that I think you should know about," she adds after a moment in a lower voice to hopefully keep eavesdroppers from overhearing.

Shiela smiles as Wayilant signs the ledger. Moments after, she recovers the book, closes it, and then slides it under the bar. “I look forward to hearing about your progress in these matters. I suspect, even with Fizzledeck’s ship, the trip will be somewhat long and tedious. If you let me know when you are heading out, I can have the Rusty Flagon's staff prepare some travel provisions for you. It should make the trip a little more bearable. For tonight, please eat and drink on the house. My treat.”

Wayilant's face splits into a grin. "Lady Heidmarch! Thank you for your hospitality! We will take you up on your generous offer. If you could get started on those rations soon, that would be wonderful." Diplomacy (Charming): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23

Shiela simply nods in recognition of Wayilant’s appreciation. “I will get them started on the provisions now. Let me know if you are departing tonight or if you intend to stay the night. Needless to say, you are welcome to stay here if you wish. I will provide rooms, free of charge, as part of the compensation package.”

While glancing around the room, Wayilant notices Julie slowly creeping towards Bryndis’s table. More concerning is the fact that she has her stick in hand and looks to be getting ready to whack someone.

“Please Talienda, follow me if you will. I have a nice quiet office where we can speak more privately.” Shiela says while heading towards a door behind the bar.

Oops, I guess I should have said that Alina was keeping an eye on her. That was my intent anyway.

Seeing Bryndis handle herself without understanding a single word between the speakers herself, except the few thrown around in the common tongue, Govrina sighs gently and focuses on Wayilant mentioning the flying gnome's ship.

"I will follow good Waylilant! I am eager to see how this ship of his can fly."

'I wonder if the ship flies using something similar to my own magical abilities?

While glancing around the room, Wayilant notices Julie slowly creeping towards Bryndis’s table. More concerning is the fact that she has her stick in hand and looks to be getting ready to whack someone.

"JULIE!" Wayilant stated in a stern voice. The aasimar's tone then turns more gentle. "Come on, dear. Let's go see the airship!"

Bryndis quickly becomes immersed in her own drama at the table, losing track of what the others are doing. The elf doesn't provide any traction for her animus, being in turns even tempered, nonjudgemental, and somewhat complimentary to her. She still doesn't like him though. She feels like there's something slippery about how he talks. Or, perhaps Bryndis is just determined to be spiteful to him because he can serve as an avatar for certain personal injuries she cultivates. She rejects his implied invitation to switch to Common.

"Is dócha go gcuirfear fáilte romhat ar ais abhaile tar éis duit taitneamh a bhaint as do chuid ama as baile, ag féachaint ar rudaí cosúil liomsa. Dá n-imtheóchadh go léir bheadh ​​ort siubhal, mar níl fáilte agam-sa i d' bhaile-sa agus i dtigh m'athar. Murab ionann agus tusa, bhí cosc ​​air filleadh go deo. Ní hé go bhfuil sé tábhachtach anois, tá sé marbh."

Immediately after her reply, Bryndis turns to conversing with the Ulfen men enthusiastically, making it clear to the elf she has no more interest in speaking with him. She begins asking Hellgor and the rest about themselves; where they are from, how they coalesced as a band, where they got their ship, and so forth. In return, Bryndis tells them all about her own band's recent adventures in and near the Sandpoint area.

Since she has put aside any considerations of keeping her identity from them, Bryndis relaxes. She starts enjoying herself tremendously as the food, drink, and talk flows. Bryndis had never really any experiences like this one before. In Kalsgard, she had been under her mother's thumb. After leaving, she had scrupulously avoided other Ulfen travelers. Until now, she had been making the mistake of conflating the awfulness of the former as awfulness to be expected from the latter.

Sense Motive (The Elf): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Perform (Oratory): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14