Boss Payden Teedum's page

Inconnu appeal to reason leaves more than one of the Consortium thugs questioning their actions. As for Boss Payday, it is the impervious front presented by the rest of the party - including the nigh-terrifying Ulark - that breaks his resolve. The labor boss winces and recoils, just perceptibly.

"Y'all are worse than that fey-loving witch of a knight," he groans, violently waving an arm back towards the Consortium offices. Despite his bluster, you can see that his shoulders shrink back in defeat.

"Let's get going 'fore we catch an axe in the back," you can just hear him hiss to his cronies as he waves for them to escort him away.

Once they are a fair distance from you, in the midst of the High Market, he turns about to deliver one last blunt retort - well out of reach, of course.

"Y'all will see! We built this town! We protected it! We ain't about to just let it get taken away!"

He turns on his heel and hastens his step to escape any verbal or physical reply.

Apologies for the delay.

Unfortunately, the first group to exit the Consortium offices proves to be Boss Payday and a cadre of his cronies. His mood seems none to pleased even before he catches sight of you standing on the edge of the High Market at the heart of the Perch. He swaggers over to confront you, a simmering scowl upon his face.

"Spit and thunder! You got a lotta cobbles to come back here!" Pay Day shouts loudly enough to be heard across the High Market. "If'n you don't high tail it outta here right now, you'll be lucky if we don't drag you down the hill and beat you to death in front of everyone, you axemad murderer!"

"What devilry is this, Baleson?" the smash-nosed leader of the armed men bellows. "Have you and your snake oil sellin' woman been makin' pacts with the fey? Hah! All the more reason that cure should be turned over to Mista' Kreed! We need to check an' make sure it's safe."

Pay Day warily glares at the dwarf and his weapon. He drags his eyes to Naomi standing with Baleson and his deputies, then to Wulf and his quaterstaff, to Liam, and then finally to the irate crowd.

"Fine," he growls. "But you'd best believe that Miss Gebre's gonna be payin a heftier tax this season, 'specially after this bumper crop of sales. Let's go boys!"

The Consortium men seem quite relieved to receive Pay Day's signal to return to the Perch, even if their exit is chorused by a hail of insults and curses from the crowd as it parts to allow them to pass.

Pay Day leers at Naomi as she approaches, appraising the unfamiliar woman.

"I'm hearin' a lot of blather, but I'm not hearin' the clink of any gold. I'll give you one last chance. Make me an offer, or me an' the boys are gonna push past that uppity sheriff and do what we came to do."

Baleson expected the insult to fly over the man's head, but the vulgar glare that Pay Day shoots the sheriff indicates otherwise.

However, Liam’s suggestion draws his attention back with a throaty laugh.

”Is this drifter really tellin’ us how to run our business?” Pay Day laughs with his men before raising his arms and his voice to harangue the crowd. ”We been haulin’ trees out of these woods for years before you, and we’ll be doin’ it years after you. We can bring more bodies up from Oregent same as we can the axes for them to swing. You’re all replaceable!”

Pay Day pauses to search the crowd for forlorn faces in the crowd, like tragic masks hanging on a wall. With a voice that trades arrogance for sadism, though, he continues.

”Of course, you may be replaceable to us, but I doubt you see your children the same way. The sooner you let Mista’ Kreed have the medicine, the sooner you can go to bed without their hacking coughs keeping you up all night.”

On another day, this tirade would have broken the crowd’s spirit. However, owing to the inspiration the party has provided, the majority instead shows a grim determination - a refusal to be beaten down one more time.

Pay Day sees this, and a worried look crosses his face. With a wave of his hand, he signals his men to stay put, and he saunters over to Wulf and whispers just loud enough to also be heard by the rest of the party, including Naomi and Boggel who have crept closer and avoided notice as the crowd focuses on the display, but excluding Timothy as he climbs into the top floor of the building.

”You’re right, we are men of business, so let’s do business. Now, I’m the biggest problem you’re ever gonna see, but gold can make any problem go away,” he whispers hoarsely with a furtive glance around the crowd, quickly wiping his nose with his arm.

“Let’s say...one hundred sails. If we squeezed this town dry, we’d probably manage that much. Give me that much to take back to Mista’ Kreed, and this whole problem goes away. It shouldn’t be hard. Your new stoutfolk friend there probably has half’a that hidden in his beard right now,” he says, cocking a thick thumb towards Helgrim.

"Pretty words, Wulf," Pay Day sneers. "But the fact'a the matter is Miss Gebre rents this land from the Consortium to run her shop. Well, the terms'a the contract changed, so if'n she wants ta stay in business in this town, she's gonna have to turn over that medicine."

Pay Day unloops a sap from his belt and tamps it against his calloused palm for dramatic effect.

"Don't get your beard in a knot," the piggish leader of the mercenaries says, dismissing Helgrim with a wave of his thick hand. "This is Consortium business, and there don't have to be no violence so long as this misguided sheriff lets us conduct Consortium business."

He turns to address the crowd, raising his broad arms with fists balled.

"Mista' Kreed sent us down here to collect the cure from Miss Gebre to make sure it's properly distributed to Consortium employees. Nothin' more."

His snorting words sound less like an appeal and more like a threat.

"Quit the arguin' and jus' git Miss Jana inside!" Pay Day insists, ushering the party inside the Tribunal. "Harg may be a wretched lil' slip, but he'll help. I'll deal with Baleson while you tend Miss Jana."

Pay Day slams the door behind the party, nearly catching the last person across the rear with the hardwood planks.

Pay Day Will Save: 1d20 + 3 + 4 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 4 - 2 = 9

"Mis...Mista' Kreed..." he mutters horrified, dropping his hatchet upon the porch planks.

His gaze darts between Joanne and the slumped Kreed, a blend of placid awe and fearful rage roiling just behind his eyes.
Despite the threat posed by the party, the mental blow of watching Kreed fall weakens his resolve, and Pay Day falls under Joanne's spell.

The remaining two Consortium thugs lose their nerve and withdraw, with one declaring they must get reinforcements while the other insists they simply need to flee for their lives.