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Marwan
Spoiler:
Sulivar's face is mainly hidden, but his nephew's face is giving away that there is more to this than he has told. The pair of merchants look at each other and wait for Milush to discuss the issues with his comrades.
Sulivar answers from inside his hands, "Since his return a month or less ago, we would normally have shared a drink or chat about the world." The eyes come forward into view. "You know something of this?"
Sulivar strokes his beard a little. "A merchant friend of mine, of longstanding, has had a good deal of bad luck. I offered to help finance a caravan into the jungles for trade goods, rare herbs and spices and the like. He sort to regain wealth and position although the venture would be dangerous. The trek proved too dangerous and Farombey, his first son died from his wounds. My friend returned three weeks later with nothing to show for his journey. That was a month ago." Sulivar sits beneath the trilling parawing and shrugs his shoulders, "the man no longer my friend. He has found some wealth in the jungle, wealth that has changed him so that we have never spoke since he left. But I hear he has been spending money, like a waterfall, two ruby necklaces are being given to ladies and fine gentlemen. All I wish is for my money back, 1000 gold." The younger merchant interrupts the flow and his uncle shades his eyes while he speaks, "my uncle has lost a fine friend and you and your friends would not be wise to get involved. Let us leave it like that. How about 250 gold for one crate of silk and forget the rest." The younger man walks over and places a hand of his elder relative's shoulder, "Master Milush, that is a good offer. Take it."
The merchant brightens as the conversation moves in the right direction,"I can help with passage, I know a trader or two." He tots up for a few moments then makes an offer, "this is my final offer, I shall take these silks off you for 300 gold, and some information and I shall arrange passage on the next available trader for free." Looking at the faces, Sulivar smiles, "plus I offer you and your men a half share in 800 gold in gems. All you have to do is collect them." The young man is frowning a bit at this final bargain. "Un-," he stops at a cutting gesture from the master merchant.
The parawing begins trilling away again, singing of who knows what. "Let me see, Master Milush, it is obvious to me too that you have not been here before. The price I offered is a fair one. The offer of information is a fair one. I would like these silks but my purse cannot go beyond 400 gold which is fairer than I would normally offer a newcomer, but I sense we may be doing business again. So 400 plus some useful information to you."
Shulim
Spoiler:
He is a canny merchant but you doubt he can afford much more than his offer (in terms of wealth). Perhaps he can help in other ways? Fudrick wanders in with the younger man, "Yrar just left with that divan. Some woman.." The gnome shrugs a little to everyone.
Sulivar begins to chortle and laugh. "So what can I tell you that is worth twice these silks? My time is precious - speak."
Fazaam can see that the yellow parawing is warbling deep in its throat and hopping along the perch following its master's movement. "Master Milush, the port of Musushlat has two currencies, one is this (he fingers the silk) and the other is information. Both cost. What is it I can tell you.......for free?" The young merchant walks outside and approaches Fudrick. "Where is your large friend?"
"Three times! Go and try. You have no business for me. You are robbers and thieves looking to put me and my family on the streets where you belong." His eyes twinkle and gleam as he warms to the theme. "Now Master Milush give me your best offer and I shall answer questions as well as I can." The beard twitches as his grin widens. "Or go and consider the drinks a gift for your friend's foolish entertainment. You could try the silk merchant at the other side of the Bazaar - Pershone. I would be hapy if you stole from him." - Fudrick
Spoiler:
Yrar clasps your hand and turns away, almost dreamily. As he reaches the shrouded divan a delicate hand reaches out and takes his. He follows like a love sick puppy.
Sulivar stands back confident in his offer.
His younger relative goes back outside to watch the stall.
Sulivar nods. He spends a minute going through each box, and pulls out silks from the top, middle and bottom. Then the old man smiles at Shulim. "These are very valuable. I think they are from one of the major silk ports to the south, perhaps even the slopes of Maijoon. Well then I am a wealthy man and am possibly the only man who could buy these for a sensible price. The other traders will tear you to pieces for them." "My offer then is 100 gold for each crate." The younger merchant nods and smiles in agreement.
Sulivar's eyes feast on the lovely blue and golden silks within. "Indeed these are pretty and I shall not lie to you, Master Milush, I would like to see what else you are offering before I name a price. What is in the other crates?" ---
Spoiler: Outside Yrar comes back over to Fudrick and says, "I have been offerred the chance at some good guard work and the pay is great."
"I'll see you and the others around. Say goodbye for me." He turns to follow the divan as its hand beckons.
Soon Shulim, Fazaam, Marwan and Ghari are inside the store. Once the ablutions are finished and thick black tea has been prepared by Sulivar's young son (as it turns out) then Sulivar turns to Shulim. "Milush show me your wares." --- Outside Fudrick watches as the divan pulls up next to Yrar and a delicate hand steals out to grip his bicep. A few words are whispered and he seems to grin.
As the party gather the herbs, and prepare to move on, Taya unfortunately cannot cast the spell she hoped for. Also Vladimir is uncertain of the hand's magic.
Sulivar welcomes anyone inside that accompanies Shulim. There is plenty of room inside the inner store. It contains dozens of silks, rolled around long planks of smooth wood. A cage is high in one corner with a golden parawing trilling as Sulivar busies himself near the back. He comes back with a bowl of cold water and two rough towels for cleaning oneself up. "I would not wish to discuss anything until you are all more comfortable."
"Yes," answers the elder man. "I am Sulivar. Indeed I have the honour of selling the finest silks in any Straits port. And you are?" He looks a little down his nose at the gnome and his slightly well traveled gear. Meanwhile the other merchant scans about and clicks his fingers. A couple of men straighten opposite the stand and walk up behind the businessman and Shulim. Each is muscled and lean and they have strong looking scimitars at the ready. No one else pays any attention to the occurrence.
Among the crowds, there is little of great or unusual interest. A silk shrouded divan making its way through the aisle is about the only odd sight, since everyone is parting like water before it. Four large half-orcs are keeping the divan at least four foot off the ground.
The laughter of the ladies comes to an end soon after this discussion. Two of the men rub their hands together as the women take their leave. They give each other a small hug and clasp wrists at some luck. One man is a much older version of his younger and slimmer sidekick. The pair start looking around for anyone else of interest.
Following the map, the small band walk downhill and head left below the high stockades. They pass numerous large wooden buildings, shops and stores, crafters and artisans working away. There are many guards at several of the buildings. The bazaar is in full swing. Dozens of men and women, humans and other races are busy trading. each stall has a beautiful silk awning and often stood nearby are a pair of tough no nonsense men holding a variety of swords and other more exotic weapons. Even a little kender is in the crowd although his reputation creates a space in the people. The sounds of laughter, barter and the occasional shout mingle with the smells of sweaty work and roasting meats. A water carrier with a large copper urn on his back is staggering about trying to lessen his load with a large cup. To the left is a large stall selling silks, clearly visible is a banner with a yellow wheel. The three dark skinned men are all chatting with a group of finely dressed ladies covered in flounces and prints.
There looks to be many small boats plying their trade across the harbour.
Spoiler: It is unusual enough to see a man fly but that looks like a man landing a carpet in the far distance. Probably somewhere near the Temple area, on its far side possibly..
The genie takes off and flies back into the large stone building, meanwhile the guards trudge back around. No one pays the party a second glance.
"I shall mention you to my master, Milush and now begone that I may clean my blade of the pig's gore." He waits for you all. The guards start to make ready to head back into the stockade, relaxed and at ease. The atmosphere is gone.
He nods at the wise words of Fazaam. Solemn and obviously agreeing with all the flattery. To Fudrick he replies, "to steal from my master is to seek a sure death. Execution." He opens the sack for all to see before handing it to one of the warriors, a few measly candlesticks and silver boxes lie within. "For sure no one who knows this poor thief will risk such a death. Then the lesson is well taught." Firuluz leans back with hands on hips and laughs out loud, at which all the warriors join in...quickly.
Patrick
Spoiler: That was just what I wanted. I was a bit concerned that what with your own game and RL you may be dropping out like Pat. Paranoia I know but Korgoth is integral to the fun. BTW am enjoying playing Divel now and the fight is a great start. I cannot wait for next round when Divel shows his wisdom score 7, and charges!
A little of the bluster goes out of the arrogant genie. His eyes narrow on the gnome. "Milush? Sabaar? Surely you jest?" He scans the group to see if he recognises anyone. "What business does my master want you for?"
The black faced warrior rests his sword on one shoulder as his chest visibly inflates, "humiliate! I do not humiliate such fleas as you." Then he points across the bay to the ramshackle buildings, "there is where such rats of gnomes and toads of halflings live. One word from such as you to your betters and I shall remove your head too!" He motions to the guards. "Now travellers, oh Polite One (and not his toilet servant), who are you to enter this place, tired and hungry without the wits to bow to one of the true line of genies? For I am Firuluz, Jannti warrior of the winds and bodyguard to Sarfutis." The other guards have slowly moved up to listen closely, almost waiting for a chance to use their scimitars.
The tall figure in pantaloons and a large black cape comes back over the hill towards the party. His bloody giant scimitar is being cleaned on a rag. A dirty rag mouch like the rogue's shirt once was. Attached to his belt swings the sack. Even at a distance of twenty foot he shouts, "You, who are you fleas on this dog of a dirt track that could not catch a one armed thief." Everyone can now see several other men, armed with scimitars and small shields come running up from the stockade. They are about thirty feet away and coming fast, if a little breathless. "By the seven winds of fate I hate such mortal stupidity!" His brilliant white teeth shine in his black face.
The rogue twists and turns avoiding everyone's deft attacks. Then he dashes clean over the hill. "Mahmour will kill you for that." But a shadow passes over head, the warrior quickly shouts down then he too flies out of sight after his quarry. "Shurdin shall be back to deal with you next." - Everyone sees a brief flash of glittering silver in the trees then a wild scream is cut off. Spot DC15
Spoiler: Armed men are leaving the stockade, running down the steps.
The rogue dodges Ghari and keeps running past Fazaam.
"Who is Shooli?" he hisses at Zimzaam. "And he is Aliph, his brother." He points at Ghari. The one armed man charges up the path and reaches Ghari and Fazaam.
Now everyone can see the six foot black skinned man floating fast over and around the bushes. Close to the four foot curved tulwar looks immense. He is only about 20 feet from the party. Casting an eye over at the stockade, the man speeds up in desperation, "help me!" He seems to be trying to avoid knocking into the big folks but has no compunction in running down Shulim or Fudrick.
Bursting out of the bushes 25 foot away, comes a desperate looking man. He is missing one eye, in fact that side of his face is marked almost black. The clothes are worn and sweaty and his one good hand holds a small brown sack from which a silvery object pokes. "Get out my way," he shouts waving with a withered clawlike hand.
Spoiler:
Magic! A large dark skinned man flies over the stockade wall and down his black cape floating behind. The over sized scimitar glints. he is moving fast through the air at just above bush level. The rogue runs straight up the path at everyone.
Everyone suddenly hears a shout of "Stop! Thief!" come from the stockade to your left. A figure briefly jumps over and down into the undergrowth. As the party look, they can make out a man shouting and waving from one of the large stone buildings inside the stockade. They can also hear the sounds of heavy movement crashing through the bushes towards them from the stockade.
The trees mask many parts but nevertheless everyone can make out dozens of well made wooden buildings below them and to the left. Inside the stockade are a few stone two and three storey homes facing across the bay and out to sea. The awnings probably coincide with the Bazaar on Morah's Map. When Ghari looks out and down to the right, he can make out the rivers that split around an island. On it are several fairly large buildings, one of which must be the Temple. Across the bay on the gently sloping hillside there are literally dozens upon dozens of homes and shops in no particualr pattern. On the seaward left are a right ramshackle of shanties and tenements all made of wood. In the middle are several large warehouses at the quay and beyond are the shops and dwellings. The smoky tannery and armoury can just be made out far to the right and upriver.
Shulim can make out three other cargo vessels, all moored at the far quays. Also there are several fishing smacks , not much bigger than a rowing boat, out to sea. There are one or two smaller boats, possibly sea going vessels or just coastal cogs, able to travel anywhere within sight of land. These are moored out in the bay like the Sea Harem. Down below the stockade, there are many wooden buildings surrounding several brightly coloured awnings. They shade an open space about thirty feet square.
The sails are furled and there is movement aboard. From this distance, no one can make out individuals. The near quay has a larger merchantman, armed with ballista and marked with the Caliph's burning brazier symbol.
Yrar nods to Fudrick. He heard. Ghari leads the party past the farmfield and through the trees. Over the ridge, he can see through the trees down into Musushlat. To the left is a hill surrounded by a wooded stockade. Ahead is the open bay with ships and boats working away. The presence of lush trees and bushes mean that the whole sea port is not that open. The far side of the bay and rivers has numerous buildings and the belch of smoke comes from various sites.
Spoiler: That would be the Sea Harem anchored in the bay.
The old man shakes his head. "News, go to the market. The rich merchants are this side of the river and the real work gets done on the other. Steer clear of the stockade, its where the grand high mucky mucks put their guards." "Now I gots to get dis place weeded. So sharp luck and strong winds fer you. Keep a weather eye on yer backs." The old man turns away. Then he stops briefly and turns back. "Word is that a slaver ship is pressin' but who knows if that be true." He waves ineffectually at the field, "weeds."
"A captain got hung with his men, ten of 'em. Dey not get way wiv stealing from Temple for Healing. One was dancin' fer an hour they say." "You want food an' drink then I got none. My land an' I work free. No slave." He makes a cutting gesture with his hand. "Vorond's place dis."
"Nabil and Milush." The farmer chews over those names. "Where fer you go to Musushlat? You loss yer ship afta a storm or what?" "You miss the hangings but der be more to come."
The older man stops his work and moves towards Shulim and Marwan. He stops about ten foot away. "Musushlat is just over that there ridge, and down. You come from the haunted jungles? not many hunt down there. Even the elves give dat a wide berth. You see dem lights?" "Anyway I am Vorond, and dis is my plot. Bought and paid fer." He rests his arms on the hoe and waits, his blue eyes wander over everyone like he is choosing slaves or something.
Ghari can easily follow the trail through the wilderness, it appears to stay close to the beach and eventually starts to rise. Ahead the party can make out a 40 foot square open area with straggling maize or corn growing. An old man is tending the crops, throwing away weeds onto a large pile of snapped vines and tattered vegetation nearby. On the far side of the crops is a grass hut with an open doorway. Beyond that the trees start again.
Yrar drops back to guard the rear.
The robe is beautifully weaved black material, which feels like fine wool, and there are small rubies speckling in the weave. The dagger is burning gold-orange with a hot inner fire. Its serrated edge is curved like a kukri, although it bears no other marks. The dagger seems to fit Shulim's hand well.
The creeper hasn't moved. Yrar looks at Ghari, "we going?"
No problem and good luck with the move. It looks like things will slow down then which isn't bad for me, I have a fair amount on myself.
Its strange, they looked bigger before. But the robe and kukri are small sized now as Fudrick holds them out.
Fudrick
Spoiler:
"You have done the right thing. The song is pure and good and the robe and dagger belong to you. They are made for you, and they will help you." These thoughts may be true but now you realise that they are coming from elsewhere. The spikes recess again and Fudrick can reach the robe and then dagger.
Its some kind of magical trap, probably set off by proximity or alignment or both. As to what the spikes and ceiling does, Marwan is not sure.
When Shulim and Fudrick return, they find Ghari with Fazaam by the single jammed door. The robes tantalizing just out of reach and the dagger waiting in the middle.
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