Rholf Kastigarr |
Sitting down at the table, Rholf pulls one of the chairs back for Larissa. "My walk was much more..." he searches for the right word, "uneventful. I was left to my thoughts, which have been unfortunately quite scattered of late. I must confess I'm having quite a difficult time keeping everything straight, for some reason. I'm sure it will all come together for me, though." Rholf orders a water and some food for the duo, then looks intently at Larissa. "I've not seen you this unnerved, Miss Brightfoot. Anything I can assist you with?"
Edwin Drood |
Edwin sips one of the newly arrived drinks as the two men inspect the ancient gold coin.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21
Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28
The self-declared detective observes the men's reactions, and makes a note of their self-control. And more importantly, that they most likely have information that will be useful,
As the men speak, the currently hyper-active senses of the sleuth notice the arrival of Larissa. Not leastwise due to the fact that he had to shift his chair to avoid being knocked aside. He sees her speak to Kastigar and resume her usual calm demeanor, and decides to investigate that mystery a little later.
"I think that perhaps you gentlemen overestimate my desire to look death, or undeath, in the eye. I have no current desire, or need, to go poking my nose into tombs and catacombs. Not when the denizens seem so intent upon coming out to meet us instead." He says wryly.
"It is most fortunate that I met you tonight. For surely such, well-connected, businessmen such as yourselves will be able to help me find out if some collectible coins, such as that one, had been spent in the area recently. Particularly if they were being passed out by a particularly big spender?" He asks cheerfully.
dungeonmaster heathy |
"Yeah. Word is, there was a guy like that....and a couple other guys with him. Spending really ancient coin, he was. Maybe a week ago.
Before you crew hit town.
At the Shadow Theatre. It's a rather.....well, interesting place.
Avant Garde playhouse, after a fashion."
Larissa Brightfoot |
Sitting down at the table, Rholf pulls one of the chairs back for Larissa. "My walk was much more..." he searches for the right word, "uneventful. I was left to my thoughts, which have been unfortunately quite scattered of late. I must confess I'm having quite a difficult time keeping everything straight, for some reason. I'm sure it will all come together for me, though." Rholf orders a water and some food for the duo, then looks intently at Larissa. "I've not seen you this unnerved, Miss Brightfoot. Anything I can assist you with?"
"Did I tell you what the Professor told me about my mother? My real mother? I had a complete stranger come up to me tonight and remind me of ... her. He made an offer I have no desire to accept."
She looks at her hands, flexing them slightly so the claws are just visible. Letting them relax, she leans on the table, hands over her eyes. "What if I'm not strong enough? What if I become like her? Goddess, I want to be strong..."
She doesn't react when the food and water is placed before her.
Edwin Drood |
"Yeah. Word is, there was a guy like that....and a couple other guys with him. Spending really ancient coin, he was. Maybe a week ago.
Before you crew hit town.At the Shadow Theatre. It's a rather.....well, interesting place.
Avant Garde playhouse, after a fashion."
"Indeed? Interesting. Very interesting. Gentlemen, I thank you profusely. You have saved me much time and shoe leather. I am most grateful. As I said, the drinks are on me, and,... here you are,..." Edwin lays down a few silver coins to cover at least a few more rounds of drinks for the two men, and then adds another of the ancient gold coins next to the original.
"In case you both decide to start your own collections? Eh what?" He says with a cheerful smile. "Now, if you will excuse me, I find that I am in the mood for a show. Good evening gentlemen." Edwin rises from his chair, bows slightly to the men, and walks over to the table where Rholf and Larissa are sitting.
"Ah, excellent! May I join you?" HE asks. He does not wait for a response before pulling out the third chair (with one leg shorter than the others he notices) and swiftly sitting down in it. He peers at Rholf, and then Larissa, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"I believe that you are both suffering from 'Enforced Enhanced Non-agression-time-itis'. Also known as 'Calm after the storm-itis'. It is a common ailment among would-be adventurers I hear. Fortunately, I happen to know the cure. And fortunately for the both of you, it is nearby." He grins.
"How about a show? I hear that the Shadow Theater is an Avaunt Guard playhouse. Word has it that a certain personage and his companions were spending quite a bit of coin recently. Right before we came to town." Ed holds up one of the Ancient gold coins to emphasize his point.
"I was thinking we could cathh a show, and then ask him where he got it? Hm?" He smirks cheerfully.
"Oh, And I think we need to check out the library University?!? first thing in the morning as well. The last pieces of the puzzle are within our grasp!"
dungeonmaster heathy |
"What if I'm not strong enough? What if I become like her? Goddess, I want to be strong..."
.
You hear whispering as if from your hair.
It says. "you.......WILL......be......strong. Soooooooo strong........so saith the goddesssssssssss........"
It's not comforting.
Rholf Kastigarr |
"Did I tell you what the Professor told me about my mother? My real mother? I had a complete stranger come up to me tonight and remind me of ... her. He made an offer I have no desire to accept."
She looks at her hands, flexing them slightly so the claws are just visible. Letting them relax, she leans on the table, hands over her eyes. "What if I'm not strong enough? What if I become like her? Goddess, I want to be strong..."
She doesn't react when the food and water is placed before her.
Rholf listens intently as Larissa vents her frustrations and fear, not interrupting until it's clear that she's done speaking. Placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he says "I lost count long ago of the times that I was certain I wasn't strong enough to face even getting up for the day after my family was gone. But I have come to know a few things as surely as I know that we are here right now. One of those things is that we are being refined, you and I. Forged slowly with heat and pressure that is sure to force impurities out of the metal which is our core.
As the smith pounds the ore, shaping it, impurities are expelled, igniting as soon as they enter the air. It's not always a pleasant process, and often quite ugly, but a necessary one. Take heart, young Miss Brightfoot. With each strike of the smith's hammer, the weapon takes shape, the metal becomes stronger."
Drawing her gaze, he gives a quick smile. "Trust the hand of the smith, and the intent of the wielder, Miss Brightfoot. Our job is to be the weapon. Now. Let's give thanks, and eat, shall we?"
Seeing Edwin approach, he gives a nod to the detective.
Larissa Brightfoot |
With a grateful - and rueful - glance, the girl leans into the cleric's shoulder for a moment. Then she bows her head and closes her eyes, lips moving in a silent prayer, and she begins to eat.
She meets the detective's gaze, but doesn't offer a response to the obvious question asked by his peaked eyebrow. Hearing his plan, she just nods, a question of her own in her mis-matched eyes.
Edwin Drood |
"Ah, our insectoid companion has managed to secure a seat, and it looks like possibly a meal, without raising the ire of the locals. I commend his acting ability. And his foolhardy courage." Edwin says, without the slightest hint of sarcasm.
"I,... confess, I am not certain of where the others went. I was, distracted by our return and the imminent solving of the larger mystery surrounding these recent events. I,... was not paying attention,..."
He looks morose. You may have just witnessed the hardest confession that the bardic detective has ever uttered.
dungeonmaster heathy |
Some local gives you directions to the playhouse, and looks at you in disdain.
You find it. It's a dilapidated, abandoned warehouse.........
There's a massive doubledoors in front. Closed.
There's alleyways on both sides of the building.
Scrawled perhaps meaningless graffiti covers the place almost neurotically.
Edwin Drood |
No kidding! RL is beatin' up on everyone lately! As sorry as I feel for everyone, I'm kindly of perversely glad it isn't JUST me. ;P
God bless everyone else though. Seriously.
Edwin observes the locals reactions to the asked-for directions with a raised eyebrow.
The same eyebrow he raises at the sight of the dilapidated playhouse.
"I think I need to educate the locals. I do not believe they were using the same dictionary that I do when they used the words, 'Avaunt-guarde'. Just saying."
Per: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Edwin Drood |
"I suspect that is the purpose. To prevent the entrance of the casual attendees or those 'not in the crowd', as it were. However there is activity inside. Note the glimmer of light escaping from behind that boarded window. And the movement of that dark curtain there? I rather suspect that if we do not hurry, we shall be late for the curtain. Come along. I suspect you are correct Larissa, a side entrance is what we are looking for. This way!" Edwin says, and leads the way around the corner of the building with a brisk tap-tap of his walking stick.
Rholf Kastigarr |
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Wow.
Rholf peers at the old drunkard, uncertain as to whether or not he's the doorman of the place, or an actual pickled beggar...
"Gladly, sir." Rholf hands the old man two gold coins. "Perhaps that is enough to persuade you to tell us where we may... take in some quality entertainment nearby?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
Edwin Drood |
"Well,... There goes that perfectly logical conclusion dashed to splinters." Edwin grumbles as he realizes there is no side door.
Per:(on Drunkard)1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
"Certainly sir," Edwin replies, tossing him a gold coin along with Rholf.
"Of course, We would be ever so grateful Ser Goodman, if you could point us in the direction of the private entrance." He says with a smile.
Edwin eyes the supposed drunkard keenly, but his natural distaste for lack of hygiene shows through, robbing his polite chatter of it's usual golden glow.
dungeonmaster heathy |
Leik doesn't see any windows.
The place is brick mainly, but it's probably inflammable.
To Edwin and Rholf;
"Aye, the courtyard around back.
Ye can get in the courtyard, but they mainly vend cheap ale in the courtyard to the riffraff....it's a hard place to get in."
Larissa Brightfoot |
Larissa makes sure her cloak covers her armor and pulls her hood over her head. "Tell me, good sir, would you be willing to escort me to the courtyard? Your newfound coin could be put to good use directly..."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
As they move toward the courtyard, with or without the distraction of the old man, she peers into the shadows looking for lurkers to augment Edwin's keen human eyes.
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Larissa Brightfoot |
She makes sure the men are aware of the watcher, then offers the man a hand up, once again showing her surprising strength for a slip of a girl. Once he is on his not-so-steady feet, she leans into his shoulder and puts an arm around behind him to hold him steady while appearing to lean on his shoulder.
"Shall we, my dear? Are you ready, gentlemen?"
dungeonmaster heathy |
You round the corner. There's a walled courtyard, and you can hear over the walls murmuring and laughing and the sounds of an outdoor bar essentially.
The gate is closed. Massive tall set of wooden doubledoors.
The "escort" yeesh knocks, and a slat opens. A gnarly halforc face; been in a lot of fights. Maybe even a lot today.......
"what you want, drunkard?" says the half orc.
"what does any drunkard want?" says the old man.
The half orc just stands there and sneers through the slat, being menacing.