-NPC3-'s page

"Candy? ... At a time like this? Kassen?" completely bewildered, the number cruncher once again searches for a clean pair of breeches before setting up my workstation again. Taking time to reorganize the paperwork, and checking to make sure his counting device is free from harm, the man quickly resumes his work.

Watching the quill scratch, the beads flutter, is truly a sight to behold.

Fast Forward feel free to add in anything if you want.
A day and a half pass with the same monotony of scratch and clack of quill and bead. The room, even though the companions are a clean lot, begins to take on a lived in smell that irritates rather than repulses. Tempers are short as Ontor has taken every opportunity to hurl annoying comments with the deadly precision he wielded his knives.

Luma begins to look forward to Benaiah's guard duty, often conversing in hushed tones about their perilous families. She also seems to light up when Malgrim appears, bonding over never really fitting in.

At last the bookkeeper moves into the room. Sunken and shallow, the man has a crumpled appearance to him.

"Done. But I am not sure you are going to like it."

Let me know if Ontor and or Luma are here for this.

Oscar places three neat, clean piles of books in stacks, and hands a ledge over to Arimar.

"That ledger is the code. One of the best I have ever seen. Each stack contains the original documents and a translation if you will. Each pile represents a shipping company.

This pile." he places his hand upon the first stack, "[/b]Is the Maersk Company. This stack is the Carmoza Consortium. And lastly Hanjin Shipping Company. Being in the trade, these are three of the biggest trade organizations in the Inner Sea Region. You will find a list of ship manifestos, with addendums in code.

"It is fairly obvious that these addendums are coded for illegal trade goods. In addition to the regular shipments, these companies are smuggling in drugs, pesh most likely as all these ship originated in Katapesh.

"Now you will need the official manifestos that have been turned into the harbor master to compare, but that is relatively easy with a well placed bribe, or a small group of talented individuals that can pull a quick smash and grab.[/b] Will occur off screen, assume you have them.

"But I have yet to inform you of the last, and most important detail. All of these manifestos are from the Vanderale Family. Do you realize that the oldest, richest, most powerful family in Magniar is involved in drugs. If this knowledge was brought to their attention, the blackmail money alone would make you a powerful minor house. If you used it against them, it would turn the great houses upside down.

"You're right Benaiah, I am going to leave. And as quickly as I can, and never, ever come back. When great powers collide, it is the little man that gets squished."

Shivering in fear in the corner, Oscar (still invisible) cries out, "Is ... it ... over? Please .... tell ... me .... I .... am ... safe?"

Earlier

'Learn a trade', my pa said. 'Kid is good with numbers', my ma said. And then she shows up with her cleave and her curves, and look and me now. Crouched in my own piss, waiting for a troop of Hellknights to burst in and stick a hot poker up my ass to make me spill my deepest, darkest secrets.

ANd who is here to protect me, a paladin, a raging addict, a hobgoblin, and, well, she is really pretty. Could spend a night or two folding that ...

'Crash' in a shower of splinters the door explodes inward.

F+@$ THIS!

Popping the stopper off the potion, the bookkeeper downs it in one long gulp before cowering as far as he can go in the corner.

Thanks for the updates, the rat moves in direction indicated on the map, not towards the bookkeeper. No AoO. Also, you are all smart enough to know

"Keep working. Are you f*+#ing nuts?!" With that Oscar scoops the pile of papers, writing instruments, and counting devices off the table. Bending down into a crouch, he tips the tables over with a loud crash and barricades himself in the corner.

Grabbing the potion from the Hobgoblin Oscar nods his thanks. Malgrim can see the man's hands shaking violently and it appears he will need another new set of britches.

Until he drinks the potion he now has total cover. Or total concealment. Whatever.

His appendages still moving spider like across the pages, Oscar gives Gwen a 'thumbs up' without looking up from him work. A growing mound of crumpled up wads of paper are growing volcano like under him, and various signs and cyphers are being tacked to the wall as if a child was decorating.

He turns to the group, "This is not going as well as I hoped, but I will get it. In the meantime, can one of you grab me some more of that ale, and tell that cheap barkeep to save the foam for when we wants to shave. I want ale to the brim."

With that he tuns back to his beaded contraception, sliding colored beads back and forth.

"That .... was .... horrible. I want no part of that again. The whole time I thought some street urchin would bump into me and .... I can't even imagine." Walking over to Arimar, he grabs the frosted glass and begins to pour copious amounts of ale into his opened mouth.

Belching loudly, he hands back the paltry remains of the beverage before belching loudly. "I am going to need to clean up, and a new pair of breeches. If it is all the same to you, I'd like to get started right away. The faster I can figure this out, the faster I can get the hell out of here."
Assuming that one of you 'guards' him as he cleans up and changes.

When he returns, he begins to take out ink, quill, and, and a large stack of bound paper. He opens a pouch of colored beans attached through a drilled hole with a thin metal string. He begins to scribble furiously while clicking beads back and forth like Andorran lawn ball.

Opening the door, the Companions can see three muscular thug-like men crammed in a make shift studio apartment with Oscar Wallace. He seems smaller than the last time they saw him, sunken and sullen in the corner. He glares at the Companions. "Bastards. I should be relaxing in some palace somewhere if you could do your job and have gotten me out of the city. But NO, can't smuggle me past some Hellknights. I have to spend the better part of the week holed up with Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest here. They cook as well as they look and bath as often as the full moon waxes in the noonday sky.

"The Frumpy Duchess you say? Well it is no yacht waiting at Dockway with some half-naked woman ready to give me a king's welcome." Oscar ends his tirade with a petulant look.

Sighing audibly, he begins again. "Sorry about that. It is all this moving and hiding. It is wearing on my nerves something awful." He hands the book to Gwen.