Kilcrist's page

"Perhaps not," Hannelia agrees, "but I wanted to." She looks the boy up and down, a strange sensation twanging at her as she considers the offer. "I usually have questions," she says lightly, "but I have nothing immediately. Thank you for the offer though, Kilcrist, you're free to go. And remember: a warning word before you get too close to people means you're less likely to end up with a bloody nose or worse."

The teen nods, ”I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am. Have yourself a pleasant day. Oh, have a look in the corners of that envelope before throwin' it out.” He turns and exits the street as they entered it, then turns toward the center of town and disappears around the corner.

@All A look behind the curtain to avoid possible confusion. If it wasn’t clear, you guys are in something of a sandbox for the next week or two in game. I have been, and will be, dropping threads you can choose to pull on or not – singularly or collectively. You may pull on them now, later, or never. I will also be creating a Threads document as a reminder they exist, not a goad to make anyone pursue them. This is more to keep things straight for the players and help future GMs if someone chooses to pull a thread after I’m out of the big chair. You may wish to add your own notes to the different threads to jog your memory or lay out what your next course of action related to that thread might be.
Some Threads:
* Venture Captain (retired) A – Hannelia considered trying to track down his records at the Elidir Lodge.
* Strange Dreams – mismatched eyes
* Celestial Orchid – do you want to adopt?

”Please tell the Chief thank you for the correspondence and the kind words. I’m grateful for both them and the gifts. I would be interested to learn more and to make his acquaintance if he deems it well.”

Kilcrist pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and the stub of a blackened quill then dutifully transcribes Hannelia’s words in some sort of code or other language. He pauses only briefly at something the bard says.

Hannelia dips into her belt pouch and pulls out a silver piece. ”For the messenger,” she smiles at the boy.

Kilcrist looks at the coin with the same caution Hannelia displayed when offered the letter. After a moment, he takes the coin and pockets it with a nod. ”Thanks. You didn’t need to tip me.”

”For future reference, the best place to contact me is at my office. There’s a secure box to put correspondence in but I’m there most days if you need to see me in person. Or leave word with Alcie at the Witch’s End or at the town archives and I’ll pick it up soon enough.”

The teen chooses his words with care. ”If I was on official Pathfinder business, that’s how I’d do it.”

”Is there a way I can find you or contact the Chief?”

He considers then digs a piece of blue chalk from a pocket and hands it to her. ”Walk out of your office, go right. Keep your hand at your side and drag a line on the doorframe of the second door down with that chalk. It may take some while but someone will contact you.”

Kilcrist seems to be weighing matters. ”Chief ain’t too social. If you got questions, I can speak to some of them… or we can part right here.”

Hannelia feels a deadly earnestness in the boy’s response, like she’s on a cliff’s edge. She can take the rewards and accolades that have been offered, turn from the cliff, and walk away. OR she can sort the jigsaw of curious words and hints dropped in the letter, Kilcrist’s odd approach, and his words, and ask for a few more pieces of the puzzle. Maybe she’ll get enough to see the jigsaw’s picture… but that would require her to step off the cliff, if she is reading Kilcrist’s veiled warning correctly.

Hannelia SM: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

The script that meets Hannelia’s eyes is elegant and precise. The lines of text are meticulously level and evenly spaced.

Ms. Venator,

Regarding your work for the Pathfinder Society, I have read your comprehensive reports as well as those of your colleagues with interest. Your thoroughness, resourcefulness, and laudable judgment are commendable. I’ve also received accounts of the actions of the Saringallow Seekers and your role with that group. Again, fine work.

I must beg your pardon… I have taken the liberty of sharing select portions of your and the Saringallow Seekers’ actions with a few trusted colleagues in organizations whose interests align with ours. Good work – even when 'discreet' – should be acknowledged. I apologize, sincerely, if this distresses you. Some larger goals outweigh our personal preferences.

Thank you for your services to the Pathfinder Society. Consider the enclosed two items as a tangible demonstration of my personal appreciation for your previous and – I hope – future efforts on behalf the Society and other interests.

Yours in service,
Venture-Captain (Retired) A.

Kilcrist watches her read the note, curious.

”I don’t think I caught your name either,” she says, smiling.

”I didn’t throw it, but it’s Kilcrist, ma’am. Nice to meet’chya.”

”I’m guessing that you haven’t co-signed the letter as well…”

This draws a loud guffaw from the teen. ”Ain’t nobody co-signs Chief.”

”I won’t know if I can give you an answer now or at a later date until I’ve read it, so please give me a minute.”

”Oh, sure. Take your time.” He stands by and watches, somewhat curious, as Hannelia carefully works the seal, trying to loosen the wax with cautious motions and body heat. Eventually, she works it free with the seal attached to the envelope’s flap. A telltale trace of wax remains on the body of the thick and clearly expensive envelope. Nothing explodes in her face. At a cursory glance, there appears to be a folded sheet of crisp white paper inside.

Before Hannelia does anything further, Kilcrist holds up a staying hand. ”Ma’am, I like your caution but I’d, uh, dis-encourage you from upending that and shakin’ it out in case there’s a Necrophage hidden in there. It’s gonna give us busy work.” Having said his piece, Kilcrist lowers his hands and waits. Out of force of habit, he glances around to make sure they have no observers.

Kil nods subtly, acknowledging the message. "Anyhow, that's about all that's been going on here. I know Bit vanishes at times, and I knew you was with him, so I made sure your rooms and your boat were paid up." He waves off any mention of payment, "It's on Bit's tab. You can chat with him about repayment." He looks to Ushari. "By the by, I think you got a cricket in your room. I've heard it cheepin' from time to time o'er the last couple of days."

Jayse - I'm giving you a circumstantial bonus based on what you know about Kilcrist...

Kilcrist comes across as a hayseed who knows things based more on solid rumor than any practical experience. With just the odd clueless look, subtle gesture, and hushed reverence at the mention of the Guild, he has you all but convinced that while his information is solid, he has no personal knowledge of the criminal organization. It is a masterful performance... if you didn't have some suspicions about his skill-set.

"I steer clear of those folks as much as a body can. But I hear that they settle their own affairs mostly. A person wanting to join up might try to impress'em by bringing in someone they was after... but I don't imagine they hire out too often. Folks might take them as being weak if they can't handle their own business. Things in Orfallen ain't always about getting the best man for a job, it's about keeping a reputation or a relationship."

"Well, not that I heard..."

You definitely know what an Allosaurus is. Feel free to peruse the stats I linked to.

Kil wipes his hand hastily on a clean patch of his pants and returns a firm handshake. "Kilcrist, nice ta meetchya! I'm old to these parts." He looks the teacher over curiously. "Bit has mentioned you, I think. You're from out of town, right? Welcome!" The way he says it, you read it as not from this world.

He scratches his ass, "Can't say as I know of any necromancers about."

"It's a big-ass lizard... and I got no idea why someone would want one pinched. Maybe a collector? Had to be a new mob in town or a set of lone wolves that pulled that job. I'm sure the Museum pays protection to keep the Guild out of their hair. So you can bet as hard as the Watch is asking questions, the Guild is asking'em a whole bunch harder. Someone made them look bad. They don't like that."

"Bit tol' me about that Crossroads place, but he never took me yet."

Kil releases the horse's foot, wipes a hand on his smock, and sheaths his shoeing hammer. He stretches his back and snorts a laugh at Jayse's comment about Bitiborium.

"Yeah, he's got that effect on everyone." Kil watches Jayse eye the cart with a mischievous smile. "I wouldn't get any ideas about that. It doesn't pay to poke around the old man's gear... News, eh? You missed a fair piece, I reckon." He continues on with obvious delight. "A few thieves busted into the History Museum maybe five days ago. Stole a Allosaurus skeleton from the third floor. Damn thing was on display and they swiped it! Had to be 20 foot long, maybe a thousand pounds of bone! They stole some other stuff too - but it looks like the skeleton is what they were after." He chortles, "But that ain't the best bit. They took out the eight guards in the building. Drugged some by swapping their dinner and caught the rest. Before they left, they staged all them guards like they were playing cards - even left the drugged meal on the table for 'em! Then they walked the skeleton out of the building, I hear. Some of the guards saw them. Said it was two men and a small boy done it. Can ya beat that?" He laughs in clear delight.

"Lemme tell ya, the Watch 's been whipped up like hornets. They brought out their mages and couldn't find nothin'. Looks like the thieves had a boat waiting and covered their tracks good. Word is the Guild denies doin' it but there's been heat on them for sure. An' the high-n-mighties are all up in arms. They got fliers stamped to every building in town wantin' information."

Jayse - the cart is in 'travel mode' so it is all buttoned down and appears to be an overstuffed and sealed cart.

Anxious to find some answers (and change into fresh clothes after a week) our heroes roam back up the main road from the wharves, pass the gaudy pink Strumpet, take a left, and travel another 10 minutes along the border road between Old Towne and the Merchant Quarter until they see the familiar sight of the Fish - the open courtyard where they have breakfast, and the wrought iron gates (now open) to the Stables behind it.

The muted bang of a hammer on iron tells you Kilcrist is at work. As you round the corner into the stableyard, avoiding a couple of fresh piles from the latest occupants, you spot the stable-boy Kilcrist in his usual smudged leather apron shoeing a horse. Parked close to one wall is Bit's merchant cart.

Kilcrist nods as you approach. "Back, huh?"

Orin - a Perception check, please.

The stable-boy gives a smirk laced with curiosity. "Boy, you folks have a wide range of interests and errands. Erastil's church borders the Merchant Quarter and the haughty section of town, up by the museums." He gets back the slip of paper he handed to Jayse and draws a quick map on the back. "That'll get you there."

I'm going to move forward unless you guys have anything else to say.

Sadly, I only saw the '2' roll so that's what I have to work with...

Kilcrist demurs politely. "I'd like to help, seeing as there's money involved, but I don't have time off for a couple of days yet, and the master of the house won't like me leaving with a full stable. Part of my job is making sure no horses go 'running off'. The only hours I could maybe sneak out would be late at night... and the folks yur wanting to speak with mostly have daylight hours.... Add to that, the boss ain't happy with me right now. I took a little unasked time off a week or so ago and he's still sore about it. Watchin' me like a hawk, he is..."

He rubs his chin like he's feeling for beard growth and an answer to a conundrum. "But here's what I can do... I'll write you down directions and names. You tell them I sent you along and they'll treat you fair or they'll know I'll never send business their way agin. You ain't the first guests who wanted a little guidance and had coin for services."

Kilcrist steps into a narrow space between his hut and the nearest stall and comes back with a ratty slip of paper and pencil. He wipes a hand clean and scrawls directions while he talks.

"Potions... you wanna see Swan. She's in the heart of Old Towne. It's kind of a maze, so follow the directions. She deals fair and will deal fairer maybe if you mention me. I wouldn't go to no one else. Magic items are trickier. If you ain't looking for anything fancy, don't need it right this second, and don't mind if the item might be a bit 'warm', then your first stop should be Rafael Tenbo. He runs a shop called 'Odd Bits' - it's barely in the Merchant Quarter. Ignore the shop. Talk to Tenbo and tell him that I told you to check out his remaindered goods. If he doesn't have what you need, he might know someone. Price-wise... he won't charge you more than market price, but depending on how business has been, he may not cut you a deal."

He hands over the directions. "If you still can't find what you need in a couple of days, I'll go with you on my day off - no charge. Fair enough?"

"So you like working here? Smart kid like you seems like he could be going places. I mean, no slight meant to Bitiborium. Was nice of him to help you get this job. What would you do if you could choose?"

Kilcrist looks up and away, debating what he'd do if he could do anything. "Well... I s'pose I wouldn't mind owning a stablery in town. I could rent stalls and sell feed to horse-owners, rent horses and carriages to visitors, and rent draft animals to locals in need of hauling or work - good steady money in all that."

"I already pitched a like idea to Bit. He said once I've got enough experience here to do it, he'd stake me for a part share."

"Good. A local's insight is always welcome. I'm looking to find some new gear, and I'd love to avoid getting the Tourist's Special in terms of pricing. You know a place I should shop for enchanted stuff? Clothes, belts, rings... that sort of stuff. Oh, and any good potion-makers? I'd love someone who can dependably make me some good stuff."

Kilcrist winces. "You can get taken for a Touron anywhere in town, right enough. Charge you 10% over market on your own teeth if they can get away with it. Hmmm..." The stable-boy eyes your group appraisingly. "I can tell you where I'd go to get a square deal but I'm Old Towne born - back alleys and shadier folk don't bother me none. If that ain't yur drink, best to stay to the folks who will only fleece you a little bit."

Knowledge (Local) 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 2 = 22 Circumstantial

"Well, it is nice to meet you Kilcrist."

The stable-boy bobs his head politely. "You too, Miss."

"You grew up in Old Towne? That sounds like you enjoy the ocean. How did you meet Bitiborium?"

Kilcrist gives a short laugh. "Best like the water if yur gonna live in the Isles. We got no lack of ocean here!" He shrugs in answer to the question about the gnome merchant, "I met him around, don't recollect the circumstances. He's a nice fellow. Got me this job once he saw I was good with animals."

"Looks like we're going to be in town for a bit, then."

"Well, it's not a bad town to be stuck in, if yur stuck. Just gotta know what's what and who's who."

"...You from around here?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm from here. Grew up in Old Towne." He gives a wave in the general direction of the seedier area nearer to the docks.

@ Jayse - your general impression is that the kid is being honest. He doesn't seem to have ulterior motives. He might be a shade more on the ball than you'd expect from a stable-boy... but this could be a good job for a dockside kid looking to improve his prospects. Since you aren't familiar with the town yet, it's a bit hard to judge the situation.

Waiting for Jofram before posting Perception results...

Kilcrist puts the mule's hoof down with satisfaction and begins to curry the mud off the animal's flanks before answering in an off-hand manner. "I've occasion to see him more than most... and can relay a message if you've got one, when I see him. I'm expecting yur the four helping with a wood supply problem?" His quick read of the companions' reactions seems to cement that opinion. "Bit'd like you to know that he'll be back in a day or so."

He regards the mule's appearance and decides it is clean enough. He stands up and stretches his back, brushing some of the mud from the leather smock. "So, is there any other help you'll be needin'?"

Acting on the previously outlined course of action...

After finishing their drinks and discussion, our heroes stroll out of the Fish and into the gloomy afternoon drizzle. They walk along the muddy track around the building to the livery stable nestled in the back, abutting the Inn. The stable is small, serviceable, and dry but not exceptional. The roof sags a bit and all the doors show signs of wear and tear from years of equines brushing or kicking them. At the far end of the stables, furthest from the Inn, wood walls and a proper door have been slapped up beneath the stable roof... creating a small, one room, hut. A bit of spare piping pokes through the roof above the spot and emits a thin trail of smoke. At a guess, it is the stableboy's home.

Currently in the stalls are three horses and a mule with a full range of tack and gear hanging from hooks on the walls. None of the animals would win a prize at a faire. The stablehand, a slender boy of perhaps 18 years, kneels down in the muddy straw and grumbles as he pries stones from the muddy hooves of the protesting mule. His leather smock and high leather boots are caked with mud. Streaks and spatterings of mud have migrated to his face and hair as well. He glances up briefly as you approach through the drizzle but keeps most of his attention on the temperamental mule.

As you come under the eaves of the stable, he nods. "Help you with somethin', can I?"

Perception checks, everyone. Jofram, the stableboy is human.