Records of the Caia Outfit

Game Master NotEspi

"Would that work from our side?" Fey asks, cocking her head to the side before shrugging and taking a deep breath to breath all over the window in the area where Niraj gestured.

"No idea. But it almost looks like he is trying from his side and that definitely isn't working."

thievery: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Rem moves immediately to the piano and looks through the sheet music quickly before moving to play something upbeat and exciting. He glances over his shoulder at the guard to keep him engaged and distracted.

The man in the reflection seems relieved and does a soundless clap in excitement. He immediately starts moving his finger across the fogged glass, spelling out the words "MIRRORS" and "JAIL" before the water evaporates. He looks at you expectantly.

Tamhar quickly snags some pages while nobody is looking. Quickly examining them, you find the formulas for the following:

Choker-Arm Mutagen (Lesser)
Sulfur Bomb (Lesser)
Black Powder (Dose or Round)
Juggernaut Mutagen (Lesser)
Lastwall Soup

You can add them to your formula list during downtime as per the rules of adding formulas to your book. 1 hr of downtime per piece.

spelling out the words "MIRRORS" and "JAIL" before the water evaporates.

"Yeah, I can see that part," Endoin grumbles. He foggs up the window again and writes, 'KEY?'

The man seems confused for a hot second, then shakes his head dismissively. He wipes the glass with his sleeve and waits for someone to fog it, then writes

"no key get mirror from jail"

in smaller lettering.

As you loom at the message, the man pulls out his pocket watch and taps it a few times as he looks at you with eyes wide open.

"Well, this just got a lot more complicated," Fey mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest before fogging up the mirror again and writing: "do guards know about you?" in similar smaller lettering.

"Maybe if they aren't aware that the Ghaf out giving a speech isn't their real employer, they'll help us?" Fey says hesitantly, chewing on her lower lip.

Looking back at you after reading the message, the man in the window shrugs, ponders something for a moment, furrows his brow, shakes his head dismissively, then shrugs again after a pause. He leans to the glass and writes:

unsure. unlikely?

Again, he taps the face of the watch.

While all this is happening, Remqaur keeps working the piano and Fabian keeps Jassim turned away. The confusing situation is only emphasised by the fast, upbeat piano melody reverberating throughout the room.

After spending a minute or so conversing with Ghaf in the window, Endoin adds that to his list of things on his mind to investigate.

unsure. unlikely?

"Well that tears it," Endoin spits out while turning around. "Jassim," he shouts to get the man's attention over the music. "Come over here and take a look at this. What do you make of it?" Endoin gestures at the window currently pressed into service as a mirror.

When the guard comes over to inspect the window, Endoin surreptitiously moves around out of direct line of view and quietly draws his blade.

Stealth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

Finally, Fabian's nightmare of a honeypot ends as Jassim's leaning into a dancing posture is interrupted by a kobold shrieking the guard's name.

Jassim rolls his eyes a bit but looks at Fabian with some disappointment. "You're clearly not interested, anyway. Maybe another time. Let's see your colleagues, then?" and walks over to the window.

He moves through the small crowd of three and starts looking outside. "What is it? Did you see the moth? Yea, it's weird..." Jassim suddenly goes silent, squints his eyes, tilts his head, and does a double-take. He turns around to confirm there is nothing to reflect and sees Endoin reaching for his blade. He puts his hand on his own hilt as his gaze meets Endoin's, and his demeanour changes rapidly. "What is this?"

Hand on the hilt, eyes darting around with suspicion, Jassim takes a few steps away from you.

Meanwhile, the man in the reflection is looking into the room with an inquisitive look.

He puts his hand on his own hilt as his gaze meets Endoin's, and his demeanour changes rapidly. "What is this?"

"What is this?" Endoin repeats while pointing his blade towards the window. "This is why smart Kobolds are always ready to throw down at any time. I have no idea what happened to the master of the house, but I don't intend to suffer the same fate."

Endoin crosses his arms across his chest, while still holding the long knife. "Now, I don't know what kind of working relationship you have with the guy, but I don't think leaving him there is going to be doing you any favors. At least not from his employ. Are you wanting to get him out of there, or not? From what he is miming at us, he doesn't have a lot of time to get free."

"I don't friggin know why there's a Ghaff in the window! How would I? As far as I am concerned, he left to give a speech of some sort. Hell, I closed the gate behind the wagon myself!"

There is a pause, and Jassim adds. "Who are you people?" he scans all of you again before looking around the room. "And what is this black magic waggery?" he nods his chin towards the window, his hand not leaving the hilt of his blade.

Rem stops planning and turns to see what the commotion is all about. He doesn't know what's happening, but he can tell that things are getting tense and Endoin is trying to get the guard's help. Rem plays some quiet calming notes and casts charm on the guard (DC 17), commenting, "I don't know what's going on over there, but I can assure you that we mean no harm to you or your employer. If you can help us, it would be much appreciated."

In the meantime, Rem looks hard at the window trying to figure out what is going on.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

It may also be worth noting that Rem in the past not infrequently used his good looks to charm humans of all genders during performances, and he puts some of that energy into his comments to Jassim.

The room descends into tense silence as Endoin and Jassim have a little stand-off while Rem moves to the window to check what's happening.

No need for a roll. Once someone points him out, it's easy to see the man in the reflection.

The man looks at Rem, who is now paying attention to him, and taps the face of his watch once again.

1d20 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 4 = 17

Rem engages Jassim with his honeyed words, but the man is already watchful and sceptical towards you. "I don't know what you are up to here, but something is clearly off. We can try to figure it out, but we need to be honest with each other here. If I think you're up to no good, I'll just call the others to deal with it."

He reaches for a signal whistle hanging from his neck and shows it as a warning. For now.

"Now, we will all sheathe our weapons and talk this out, okay? No need to spill blood. I might not live through you all, but I don't think you want to chance it."

Jassim scans each of you slowly with the whistle in his hand. "Right?"

Endoin stares hard at the guard for a moment or three. "Fine," he says finally, as he puts his flyssa away. "But it feels like we are dead either way. This smells like a setup. It couldn't possibly be coincidence that we were tasked to be here on the very night that Ghaff gets locked permanently into a mirror dimension; the very night that he is supposed to be giving a public speech. And when he doesn't show up to the speech and people search his house looking for him, all they find is us holding the instruction book for how to lock him away."

"So I am going to search the house and see if I can find where and how Ghaff was trapped and get him out. So that when people come here looking for him, they actually find him instead of just me." Endoin heads towards the door of this room and calls over his shoulder towards Jassim. "So either help, or stay out of the way."

"First of all,", Jassim releases the grip on his hilt. "you must understand I won't let you roam the mansion freely. SO if you want to poke around, I'm coming with you. That person..." he points at the window "...or rather their condition, is making my skin crawl. For multiple reasons. One of them being that not two hours ago, we prepared the carriage, and saw Ghaf and Zeedran get inside and leave the estate grounds with an armed escort. I am not a fan of ghosts or spirits or whatever that thing is. So let's figure it out. You have ideas? Come at me. I'm a blacksmith by trade, so..." he shrugs.

Rem's eyebrows raise in surprise at seeing Ghaf in the window, but he rolls with it. To Jassim: "That's perfectly fair," Rem holds up his empty paws in a non-threatening gesture. "We won't do you any harm, and I'm sure Ghaf will be very appreciative if we are able to release him from whatever this trap is."

To Endoin: "Did window Ghaf tell you where to look? If not, we should ask him and he can nod 'yes' or shake his head 'no' when we say different locations. Otherwise, it's a big place to search..."

"Did window Ghaf tell you where to look? If not, we should ask him and he can nod 'yes' or shake his head 'no' when we say different locations. Otherwise, it's a big place to search..."

"He said there is no key and to get the mirror from jail. Whatever that means. I figure we will have better questions to ask once we know what all is in this house."

"Jassim, is there any sort of jail here in this house or complex?"

"There are some holding cells in the basement." He scratches his head. "I think. I was never there."

"When we were walking through, I noticed there weren't any mirrors. I imagine whoever is pretending to be Ghaf hid then away. Mirrors are likely the key to his imprisonment. Jassim, we can explain everything to you soon, but time is of the essence. We aren't here to hurt anyone. Can you take us to the holding cells?"

No maps needed for this, so I am not changing the map link. I am revealing rooms in the house that you pass through, however.

"If it helps figuring out this whole situation, I guess. Follow me, please." Jassim takes point, but keeps turning around to confirm all of you are there and are not meandering.

He leads you back into the entry hall, and into the door in the nertheast corner. Entering the room, you find yourself in a grand dining room. Rows of two tables with seating are arranged east to west, and one large U-shaped table is near the east end of the room. Behind it, a fairly large dragon trophy sits above a fireplace. Is it real? Who knows? But it looks real enough. Red scales and yellow reptilian eyes glisten as the fire dances beneath, giving an eerie sense of motion and absolutely meant to look imposing.

But you move past this room, and enter the exterior through a large door in the northwest section of the room to pass through a narrow section of the courtyard. Another patroling guard flags down Jassim, and they have a brief conversation with each other out of earshot. The patrol eyes you suspiciously as they do, but Jassim gives a dismissive wave in your direction a few times and seems to be chuckling. The patrol nods and continues on their route.

Moving towards west, you pass a series of clotheslines with what seem like uniforms hanging from them, similar in colour to those worn by Jassim. The westernmost building of this section has a sturdy stone wall. Clearly build for function rather than form, it does not hold a candle to the grandeur of the mansion itself in terms of decoration, but is well kept. You enter, and find a simple setup. In the smaller room, opposite to a set of stairs, you find a large table with some leftover food. The stairs are built on top of each other and lead up and down. And while not separated by a wall, the larger room in this building contains a set of tables, chairs, and a few barrels and crates. Two guards sit opposite each other at one table, enjoying their break and entertaining themselves with some cards. One guard is softly snoring at a separate table. As you enter, the two card-players turn in your direction simultaneously, and Jassim waves them off. "Just ignore us. Checking on the cells while Zeedran is away."

Unperturbed and satisfied with the reassuring words, they return to their game and break. Jassim beckons you over to follow him downt he stairs, and opens a reinforced door. Surprisingly, unlocked. There is but a single light-emanating stone in this room, placed in the middle of the ceiling. Inside this cold, damp and fairly dark room smelling of mildew, moss, and a tint of rotting hay, you find four separate holding cells made of metal bars, each with its own padlock.

The cells are in two rows, two on both north and south walls, with a relatively narrow corridor separating them in the middle. Each cell contains a hay mattress on a wooden bedframe (if you can call it that), a bucket, set of manacles chained to a wall, and that's about it.

While the two southern cells do not have prisoners in them, one contains several cloth-covered items. If you had to guess, you would say these are portrait frames of variou shapes and sizes. They are neatly stacked against the wall. The fourth cell is completely empty, except the bedframe and the bucket.

There are two prisoners in this room, both of them in the northern cells. In the northwestern cell, there is a keleshite girl with a shaved head, dressed in simple linen. She looks you up and down in what seems like surprise, but does not react to your presence verbally. She simply stands near the wall in a stoic pose, observing you as you enter.

In the northeast cell, you see a man sitting down eyeing the new arrivals.

The man sitting in the northeast cell sits casually. His posture is relaxed, almost too relaxed for someone imprisoned, with one arm draped over his knee and a slight, playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, and his eyes, sharp and filled with a mischievous glint, follow each of the newcomers as they enter. He’s dressed in a simple, worn shirt and trousers, but there’s a certain confidence about him, even behind bars.

He leans forward slightly, tilting his head to get a better look at the eclectic group. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawls, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Marcus didn’t expect company today. Come to bail Marcus out, or just sightseeing?" His grin widens, "Hope you brought snacks. It’s dreadfully boring in here."

Rem ignores Marcus and speaks quietly to Jassim: "What are these two in for? And is it possible there's a mirror under those cloths?"

Jassim walks up to Marcus' cell, clearly perplexed. "Marcus? Is that you? I thought you quit and moved north. What is happening here?"

In response to Remqaur, he turns his head back to the rest of you. "No idea. I never saw this girl in my life. Marcus used to be a guard here for a time, then just disappeared. I was told he quit. Only Zeedran goes down here these days. As for those," he nods his head towards the canvas covered items, "I suppose they could only one way to find out. If you can pick a lock, that is. I don't have keys to these."

Endoin is unsurprised at the guards lounging in their break room. That is what a break room is for, after all.

He is a bit shocked that there is actually a functioning jail room down the stairs. And even more astonished that there are people in those jail cells.

His mouth gapes open when Jassim mentions that he doesn't know why these people are in the cells - and that he knows one of them.

Then his mind completely short-circuits when Jassim casually mentions picking the locks on the cell doors as though that is a thing that jail door locks are intended to have happen to them.

After a few seconds, Endoin recovers enough to realize that one of the people in the cells asked a question.

"Come to bail Marcus out, or just sightseeing?"

"Just sightseeing currently," he replies, still clearly a bit distracted. "Unless you happen to have a mirror."

"Just sightseeing currently," he replies, still clearly a bit distracted. "Unless you happen to have a mirror."

"A mirror, you say? You'd be surprised how little they offer in the way of amenities here. But Marcus appreciates the honesty-sightseeing, is it? A fine tour, indeed. Watch your step before you find yourselves on this side of the bars. It happens ... surprisingly fast."

"Marcus? Is that you? I thought you quit and moved north. What is happening here?"

As soon as Marcus sees it is Jassim approaching and not the butler, his smirk falters, and he quickly stands up, brushing off the dirt from his worn trousers. His mind races, realizing that might just be his ticket out of the cell. He strides closer to the bars, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"Jassim! Marcus wishes he had quit, truly. But it wasn’t exactly a decision, you see." He taps the bars lightly, giving a rueful chuckle. "Ghaff didn’t take too kindly to poking around where his nose didn’t belong. So, instead of a nice farewell, Marcus got a one-way trip to this lovely accommodation."

He nods toward Tiqi in the opposite cell, his tone softening slightly. "Almost a kidnapping, you could say. Poor Tiqi over there got the same treatment, it seems. Something’s not right with Ghaf, Jassim, and Marcus knows it better than most." His eyes lock with Jassim's, a flicker of hope in his gaze. "Now, how about getting out of here, old friend? Seems you might be Marcus's best chance at some fresh air."

After the brief reunion, Jassim seems to be lost in his thoughts. He manages to get out a simple "But... why are you here? How long?"

As they make their way down, Fey feels more and more unnerved by the sudden turn of events. This was supposed to be a simple switch, and now...this. She wonders if their handlers at the Caia Outfit had any idea what they were sending them into...and what the point of sending them so uninformed would be, if so. A question for later, she supposes.

At Jassim's exclamation about the prisoners, Fey's golden-blonde brows shoot up into her hairline. She listens to the back and forth briefly before sighing and looking at the closed cell. "Ghaf's not right because it isn't Ghaf," The sorceress says blithely, peering closer at the bars as she extends a hand and sends out a wave of detection magic. "I'm no good with a lock, but maybe one of these is enchanted or something. Or maybe we just need a big mirror." (Casting Detect Magic through the bars, if possible)

Rem doesn't know if he's the best lockpick in the party, but he doesn't wait for Jassim to rescind his invitation. He quickly takes out his lockpicks and tries the lock.

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

He looks up a little embarrassed. "Any of you better at this than I am?"

Let me give it a shot

Tamhar steps up and takes a look at the lock, pulls out her tools and tries to open the lock.

thievery: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

That should do it. Tamhar says with a grin.

Endoin pats Remqaur on the back. "Sometimes you just need the right tools for the job," he says. "And if you have the right tools and it still doesn't work, then you need a Kobold."

With the cell to the debris in the excellent care of his wife, Endoin turns his attention to these two prisoners.

Can I get a sense motive on these two prisoners. Perception +6. Checking to see if they are anything more than just normal people thrown in the cells for getting on the wrong side of the leaders of the house.

After the brief reunion, Jassim seems to be lost in his thoughts. He manages to get out a simple "But... why are you here? How long?"

Marcus scratches the back of his head, trying to recall the exact timeline but eventually shrugs. "Honestly, Jassim, we haven't been counting the days too closely. Somewhere between two and three weeks, maybe? Every day in here blends together—same walls, same silence, same dreary meals. Hard to tell when nothing changes."

He watches the kobold pick the lock with ease and gives a quiet round of applause. "Bravo. Well done. One must respect the art."

When Endoin turns to study them, Marcus leans in and whispers.

"By the way... That girl over there?" He nods toward Tiqi. "Marcus has a hunch she’s someone important—maybe a princess, ambassador's daughter, something along those lines. She’s been keeping quiet, but you can tell by the way she holds herself. Regal, practiced... she’s not some commoner who stumbled into this mess."

He pauses a moment and adds "Marcus is not sure of your intentions be it coin, prestige or revenge. Freeing her in all three seem like a smart move, no?"

"Locks mystify me. The fact that you can even attempt is impressive, Rem." Fey pats Rem reassuringly on the shoulder while she investigates the potential for magic in the cells.

"Well, there's magical stuff around, but I can't really tell from where..." Fey states, shrugging nonchalantly. She felt it was better to let things roll off of her back at the moment--everything was weird in this situation and she might as well embrace it.

"Lovely work, Tamhar," She murmurs, grinning toothily at the alchemist before shuffling into the cell to pick a large, but potentially easy to carry mirror to take back up to the trapped Ghaf.

"Fabian, think you could spare us your big, strong muscles to carry a mirror?" She asks, toothy grin still stretched across her face.

After Remqaur's initial attempt, Tamhar makes it look easy by toying with the tumblers a bit and pops the lock open, granting access to the canvas-covered items int he room.

Meanwhile, Endoin scans the two prisoners in the room. The girl is simply standing in her cell, observing the situation. Her skin tone that of honey, and amber eyes scan the development from beyond the bard. Her head is shaven, and she turns her head towards the other prisoner as Marcus speaks her name. She is dressed in simple linen, but the clothes do not hide her stance. Toes directed slightly away from each other, left foot barely behind with the heel raised. Her right hand softly grips her left wrist just under her belly, shoulders pushed back, chin slightly elevated.

There is an air of nobility about her.

Neither of the prisoners seems to harbour nefarious thoughts at the moment, but at least the man seems to be working towards being released.

Walking into the cell with the canvases and quickly inspecting them shows that they are indeed covered frames containing mirrors ov various sizes. From large mirrors fitting a large dance hall, smaller frames to simply check one's tie in, down to a handful of handheld mirrors stored in a crate.

Fabian playfully rolls his eyes at Fey's joke. "Sure can. Where to?"

"Marcus is not sure of your intentions be it coin, prestige or revenge. Freeing her in all three seem like a smart move, no?"

"I haven't been wronged enough to seek revenge - at least not by Ghaf. Well, at least not by Ghaf, YET. We'll see how this night goes."

Endoin starts fiddling with the lock on Tiqi's door. "I'm not the business of hostages either. Which is why I'm not keen to leave you lot locked up in here."

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

"I don't know what is going down around here, but people shouldn't be trapped in a cage while it happens."

He takes a stab at Marcus's door's lock too.

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

"Hey, Tamhar, sweetie," Endoin calls out to his partner. "You want to come give me a hand with these too? They are being stubborn."

Rem claps good in friendly applause at Tamhar's success.

"Seems we've established who the best at picking locks in the group, but maybe I can redeem myself with one of these."

Rem tries to pick the lock to Tiqi's cell.

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Certainly better than the last effort!

The girl maintains her posture while Remqaur work the lock. He lifts a few tumblers, but the lock does not pop open just yet.

Endoin's attempts are less fruitful.

Fabian playfully rolls his eyes at Fey's joke. "Sure can. Where to?"

"Back up to the Salon, but we'll need to wait for them to free those two," Fey replies, gesturing at their crew attempting to pick the locks.

Marcus watches the group's efforts with growing interest, his eyes flicking between them as they work on the locks.

"Appreciate the effort." he says, tone laced with dry humor. "Locks can be tricky things, but you're getting close."

Rem continues, as long as necessary:

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

While he works, he comments to the girl, "You've been quiet. I assume you do WANT to be let out, right? Who are you?"

He'll get just to the point of opening the lock but won't complete the work if she doesn't respond. Although it seems he's not quite having a lot of success anyways.

He also comments to Fey, "Can you tell if any of the mirrors are magical by studying them longer? Grab me a handheld mirror as well, ok?"

Marcus, sensing the hesitation and the girl’s silence, steps up to fill the gap "She shouldn’t be left in here, regardless. Marcus can guarantee she’s not here by choice."

He leans slightly closer to the bars, his voice dropping just enough to emphasize the gravity of the situation. "You don’t need her to say it. You’re doing the right thing by letting her out." He gives Rem a knowing look. "Sometimes, actions speak louder than words."

"What action on her part should I find reassuring? Why isn't she talking? Something doesn't seem right. And should I be worried you don't refer to yourself as 'I"? Nothing makes sense here."

Tamhar steps over the cell with the guy in it. “Rem, I will work on this lock while you work on that one. If we both have no luck, maybe we will have to do them one at a time together.”

Thievery: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Thievery: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Thievery: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

Endoin goes into the other cell with the mirrors and picks out one of the hand mirrors. He checks it over to make sure it is just a regular mirror.

Occultism Identify Magic: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

"Can you tell if any of the mirrors are magical by studying them longer? Grab me a handheld mirror as well, ok?"

Endoin grabs another small mirror and checks it too.

Occultism Identify Magic: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

If they show as not being magical, he takes the mirrors out of the cell. He hands one to Remqaur and keeps the other.

For the next several minutes, Endoin goes around the room looking at everything through the reflection of the mirror. Himself, Fey, Jassim, Remqaur, Tiqi, Fabian, Marcus, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, various other items and furniture, and of course plenty of checking out of his wife while he is at it.

"What action on her part should I find reassuring? Why isn't she talking? Something doesn't seem right. And should I be worried you don't refer to yourself as 'I"? Nothing makes sense here."

Marcus raises an eyebrow at Rem's skepticism, leaning casually against the bars of his cell. He chuckles lightly, but there's an understanding behind his eyes as he tries to ease the tension. He nods to the catfolk and says, "Fair enough, nothing about this situation does make sense." he admits, his tone a bit more grounded. "As for Tiqi... she's cautious. Smart, really. You’ve been locked up long enough, you start to wonder who you can trust, and maybe talking too much doesn’t seem like the best move." He glances at the girl, then back to Rem. "Her silence? That’s her playing it safe. Trust me, if you were in her shoes, you’d do the same."

He turns to Tiqi and nods his head, as if he's telling her it's okay to talk to the strangers who are breaking them out of prison.