Thanks for letting us know up front, rather than just disappearing without a word. I hope we get to play together in the future!
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Talib takes in the escalation of violence playing itself out in and around the ring, as well as the subsequent alarm from upstairs. He shakes his head at the scene, half-annoyed and half-impressed by the sudden bedlam. "Well, I suppose this spares me the bother of orchestrating a distraction..." "Focus on the mission," he says to Talienda, then addressing the rest of the group. "That is the signal. We need to help extricate the Falcon." The inquisitor grabs his flail and starts to inch towards the smaller door. He attempts to keep to the wall, behind the guards moving in the same direction, and safely out of the way of goblin-related shenanigans. He motions for the others to slow down, stalling until he detects the Falcon or until all of the guards have entered.
"Sekla, Talib," she whispers to the two "bodyguards" just loudly enough to be heard above the general din between the events, "do you think that smile she gave me meant anything besides contempt?"
Talib follows the woman with his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "I could not tell. Did she have any tattoos, perchance?"
The inquisitor glances at Talienda and shakes his head. "People are moulded by their environment," he muses. "Cruel living conditions always result in further cruelty. These peoples' only refuge lies in epicaricacy—however miserable their lives might be, at least they are not the ones in the pit. Had you grown up in the Puddles, you might be jeering along with them." He turns to look at the brutal farce, expressionless. "I used to close my eyes to it, once. No more."
Talib allows Talienda and Rissi to keep up their charade, giving Sekla a reassuring nod every once in a while. He tries to keep an surreptitious eye on the guarded door, looking to see if anyone comes or goes—mostly just to catch a glimpse of where it might lead.
Totally understandable! I just wanted to make sure.
@Sekla: So, before we get to that point in the operation, what's your final say on distraction via wrestling?
Yay! I'm glad you're feeling better.
Talib bows with the assumed lassitude of a long-suffering majordomo. "Yes, my lady." He leads the way and finds—or clears away, if need be—enough space for everyone. The inquisitor makes sure they have their backs to the wall, and that the seats immediately to the front and sides of Talienda's and Rissi's are vacant, so that he and Sekla can keep watch and stop anyone from approaching if need be. As he moves through the bleachers, Talib looks for an obvious bookmarker or anyone else who looks to be in charge of the betting. He also counts the guards, and makes note of all entrances and exits.
Yes and no. First priority, we get in and position ourselves for the main distraction. Once we have the go-ahead from the Falcon, we'll need to arrange for a larger distraction and/or send reinforcements for the rescue (such as having Sekla wrestle, and Talib moving to help the Falcon as needed—I'm sure we can figure out something else if that doesn't pan out). All of your antics so far are drawing possible attention away from the Falcon, so no complaints there!
He stays near the group on the approach, so that they can put the finishing touches on their plan. He halts when they are within sight of the entrance, but not within hearing range. "This is the place all right," he says. "Note the tattoos on the two bouncers." He looks up at the second floor. "I'll break off from the group, circle around and see if I can find an entrance to the second floor. The back door will most likely be guarded, so I'll stay clear of that." Talib nods to the Falcon, eyeing the bouncers appraisingly. "Be careful." As the group approaches, he tucks his holy symbol into his breast pocket. "I will take point. Sekla, watch our backs." The crowd looks curiously at Talienda and Rissi’s antics. Some snickering when seeing the clearly out-of-place duo, but do little else. "O Judge of the Gods, lend me patience..." The inquisitor wrenches Rissi to her feet, and inclines his head deferentially towards 'Lady Black Rose.' "Follow me, mistress. I will clear away the rabble." He squints at the nearest onlookers and scowls. "What are you looking at?" With a measured stride, he makes his way to the doors. Pausing at the threshold, he stares down the bouncers as Talienda and Rissi catch up, brushing past the tattooed thugs as they do. He makes no outright threatening gestures, but everything in his expression and posture contributes to an overall aura of silent menace and barely contained violence.
A young fortune teller smiles brightly when his eyes meet Talib’s. A sign on the ground marks his tent as Antares Auguries and Auspices. Talib makes no sign of having noticed the tent or its inhabitant, though he does run through his mental check list of contacts and various other associates. "Do I know him from somewhere?"
Talib raises an eyebrow. "Does she really think they would think less of her for losing? Or is this a matter of pride...?" "As in," he says calmly, "have you throw said goblins around the ring for a while—preferably in an entertaining manner—before ultimately winning. We might have to bribe the proprietor to facilitate a show match, but I can handle the negotiations as needed." Whether this was the inquisitor's original plan, or a conciliatory alteration to it, is hard to judge from his near-uniformly inexpressive mien.
Sekla frowns as she listens intently to Talib. "I am willing to fight. That would not be the cause for my objection. But the fights that take place in the manor are farcical, and meant to be as brutal as they are comedic. I would surely kill anyone set against me in moments, and the organizers would no doubt realize it. I doubt they would allow me in the ring, especially as I am known in fighting circles after my victory at the Irorium." Talib nods slowly. He thinks for a moment about how to phrase his reply, but opts for the bluntest possible terms. Although the hobgoblin is far more worldly than a sheltered girl like Talienda, some intricacies of Absalom's underworld appear to elude her. "You could kill anyone set against you," the inquisitor stresses firmly. "That does not mean you should. We need to keep everyone's eyes on the ring during the extraction, and the proprietor is unlikely to have any scruples about rigging a match. The question is, do you?" He adds, in a more conciliatory tone, "This is assuming the Falcon locates the girl. Otherwise, there is no need for such a distraction."
The Falcon and Talib quickly exchange information on the Grindle Street Shades, narrowing down two relevant spots on their search for Cornela. Talib considers both options, swiftly correlating the scenarios with both present knowledge and past experience. "The Greasy Half-Elf is not worth the risk," he argues. "A large group of newcomers would be conspicuous, and going in fewer numbers would be too dangerous. The Manor should be easier to infiltrate: the matches draw attention from us, while simultaneously giving us a credible reason to enter."
The inquisitor looks on with his usual stoicism as different emotions flash across Talienda's face, and nods approvingly once she calms herself. Although the ordeal at the courthouse was undoubtedly traumatic, it had also matured her. While he certainly does not wish the girl to take after her father, Talib knows she is unlikely to survive Absalom—the real Absalom—unless she sheds the rest of her youthful sentimentality. All the more reason to stop sheltering the budding sorceress. "You need a disguise, a false identity, and money in coinage," he lists on his fingers. "You will be a bored noblewoman, there to bet on the fights. I believe they call it 'slumming.' Rissi can guide you through the... etiquette, as necessary. The rest of us should be able to pass of as your bodyguards, save perhaps for the Falcon. He can scale the building from the outside, and see if the girl is upstairs. Assuming she is, he can signal us to proceed with the extraction." "Maybe we can provide an additional distraction," he turns to Sekla, recalling the hobgoblin's prowess in the Irorium. ”Do you wrestle?”
"Talib, I don't want Alina getting hurt just because she works for me. Do you, Sekla, or your masked friend know and trust anyone that we could hire to help keep her safe? It was all I could do not to say we'd all go, but I feel that Sekla would have knocked me out cold for doing something so foolish at time like this." Talib shakes his head slowly. "You are free to hire bodyguards for your retainers if you wish, but I would deem it an unwise investment. The only way to keep Alina safe is letting her go and hiring more robust help. Loyalty such as hers is impossible to buy, of course, but getting too attached makes her a potential pawn for anyone who might seek to use her against you."
The inquisitor ponders on the issue for a moment. Paranoia is not constructive, and falling into it might play right into the enemy's hand. However, doing nothing in response signals weakness. Perhaps it is time to do something unexpected... "There is no sense in overt entrenchment," he finally says, his tone resolute. "Walls are meant to keep out thieves of opportunity, not professionals set on a task. If they—whoever 'they' are—know you are here, they will get to you eventually. At the current rate, this investigation might take us weeks, or months—plenty of time for multiple attempts. We need to go on the offensive." Talib rises from his seat and moves to loom over the young noblewoman. "Miss... no, Talienda. You are not some helpless damsel. Sekla is here to defend you bodily, not because I think you are utterly incapable of protecting yourself, but due to practical reasons associated with sorcery in a close-quarters skirmish. You would not stand idly by and let her fight alone, would you?" "I have a lead that could get us closer to a resolution," he exclaims to everyone gathered. "There is a girl named Cornela Lupei, a runner for the Shades. Wherever she is, there will be gangsters. Once we have one to question, we can track them to their primary hideout. There, we might discover further evidence—and even if not, there would be one less threat to worry about." The gaunt Keleshite pauses for a moment, taking in the group's reactions. He nods to himself, as if his inspection had confirmed some half-formed hypothesis he had been mulling over. "I had planned to recruit a small group of mercenaries for the raid, but it seems I have more than enough capable help right here."
As the Falcon returns and Talienda introduces herself, Talib skips through the rest of the courtesies with a few quick words and gestures. "These are Miss Rissi Than, a bard, and Sekla Torgut, Miss Blackhorn's—Talienda's—new bodyguard. And this is, hum... the Shining Falcon." The staid inquisitor is plainly uncomfortable with the moniker, based on the awkward manner in which it exits his mouth. He allows the vigilante to explain himself, rather than guessing what he would want to divulge. As the masked man reports his findings, however, there is no more doubt in his demeanour. "How intriguing," he muses as he examines the vial. "This is a good find. It might be productive to have an alchemist examine the sample, unless Miss Than possesses contradictory information on the subject." Unsure where to begin, Talib utters a few select prayers to pry into the different auras that might surround the unknown substance.
“Very well. Since the situation seems to have been taken care of…Rose!” The other guard immediately snaps into attention. “You are to get more details on this household, as well as an accurate description of the suspect. Report back when you’re done and speak to Min-Naamat about having a few more patrols in this area for the next couple of days.” With a short bow, the man takes his leave.
Talib has a brief conversation with Cadet Rose, mentioning that a "colleague" of his is taking a look at the roof, and will be over shortly. After the introductions, he stares Alina down for a moment before nodding. "Better to be too careful, than too careless."
Talib strokes his beard and looks thoughtfully up at the opposite building. "There is always a reason. From what you have told me, I posit that either A) the suspect was here to spy on the house, and resorted to magic after being caught; or B) they were here precisely to terrorise you—to make you feel unsafe." He turns back to the others, producing his notebook and a piece of sharpened charcoal. "How would you describe the suspect's behaviour and composure? Did they appear to be hiding, or were they intentionally making themselves known to you?"
He adds his voice when Talid suggests searching the roof. "I may be of assistance there," he says, his way of speaking direct but not presumptuous. "I'm at home on the rooftops, and maybe my sharp eyes can pick up on some traces this assailant left behind." Seeing the watch in the yard, Talib nods his assent. "That might be a good idea. Meet us inside once you are done." One of the guards, a Zenj man on his early forties, takes a step forward and bows his head. “Good morning, ladies. I am Gyld Stjern, sergeant of the Post Guard. You have a very loyal servant, I must say. She came to us almost crying and would not move until we followed her. What seems to be the problem? She mentioned something about someone threatening you?” Talib mutters a short prayer, and then approaches the guard. Holding up his gilded holy symbol, he assumes the general attitude of professional amiability. Although cooperation with the local authorities is something Talib does quite frequently, the utility of patrol officers in an investigation such as this is rather limited. "Abadar's prosperity to you," he says in a genial tone. "I am a collector of the Vault, and a friend of Sargeant Tal'at Min-Naamat. The situation is under control—these people are under witness protection, and someone was caught paying a suspicious amount of attention on the residence. I can handle things from here. However, it might be a good idea to leave a few guards to look over the property, for the ladies' peace of mind. Would you not agree?"
Damn, that's awful. I hope everything turns out well.
"A friend," Talib says, gesturing in the Falcon's direction. "We can make introductions later." The inquisitor frowns as he mulls over the strange occurrence. Was this an intentional act of terror, or a misstep? "What roof, exactly? I think we should go and inspect the scene. Afterwards, we need to go through the house and make sure nothing has snuck in while you were away."
He doesn't linger on the confession and raises his gaze to look straight at Talib for a moment. He reaches for the shadows in an alcove between two building and retrieves a wrapped bundle of weapons - a greatsword and a hefty longbow among them. "Where do we go from here? I have some contacts in the Puddles I could ask for recent events. Unless you have need of me right away?" Before Talib replies to the Falcon’s question, he looks towards the main street and frowns. What first attracts his eye is the movement of three humanoids, one of which is heavily armoured and towers over the other rather diminutive two; he cannot hide his astonishment when he recognises them as Sekla Torgut followed by Talienda and Rissi. The three women seem rather agitated and keep looking up, as if expecting some sort of menace to rain down on them at any moment. "It appears I might," Talib says the Falcon. "Follow me." The inquisitor strides into the street, moving determinedly and with projected authority—any casual onlookers would assume he is here to take care of the commotion, and carry on with their lives. He waves for everyone to move under the eaves, away from traffic, pausing for a moment when he notes Sekla's wild look. "What is going on?" he asks in a low voice, his eyes on the rooftops. "A sniper?"
The Shining Falcon and Talib: Talib nods evenly. "You have no illusions of entitlement, then. That is good." "I hope you realise what you are committing to," he continues in a grave tone, "The water is not the only thing which stagnates in the Puddles: the Grand Council’s lack of support for the district is a great injustice, one which has led to more suffering than any criminal enterprise. The so-called ‘Muckruckers’ are not a police force as much as they are an officially sanctioned mob, and the Nomarch is nothing more than a glorified ringleader. It all correlates." The inquisitor shakes his head and sighs wearily—there is something about him that seems older and wiser than his years. "This goes far deeper than a single gang. You could spend the rest of your life weeding out criminals, and there would always be more to pluck. Perhaps you would be better off running for office?" "But on to business," he concludes, switching from the ponderous parlance of a preacher to the matter-of-fact cant of a merchant within a single heartbeat. "I have no time or motivation to compete with you, and I assume you will be investigating the matter regardless. We might as well pool our resources."
Yeah, not the best first impression. At least it plays well into the whole "hobgoblins distrust magic" thing...
Somewhere in Eastgate a boy approaches Talib. He looks a little intimidated by the stern Keleshite with the gaunt features, but bravely holds out a note. "Sir, a cloaked man asked me to give this to you. I couldn't see his face, but he paid pretty well." The thought of the copper's makes him smile. Talib receives the note and hands the urchin a full silver weight in return. "Fair pay for honest work." Stepping away from the eastbound traffic, the inquisitor reads through the missive under the eaves of a nearby building. He lets out a huff—not quite a chuckle—and pockets the piece of paper. It does not take an experienced sleuth to follow this series of events to its natural conclusion, and being one, he takes it in stride.
The inquisitor takes only a few steps into the alley, just far enough to keep the conversation private from passers-by. He is no stranger to practitioners of vigilantism, but these sorts of dramatics are... novel. As he speaks, his tone is emphatically neutral, though peppered with a hint of dry humour. "I have been ambushed several times during my career, including scenarios much like this one. However, these instances have seldom been preceded by a monogrammed invitation." "Tell me," he asks—less than a demand, but more than a request. "What, exactly, gives you the right to execute justice outside the law?"
"Step away from the windows," says Sekla immediately, tone turning terse. If Talienda fails to comply quickly, she'll take hold of the young human by the arm and pull her firmly behind the safety of a wall. I half-expected Sekla would just tackle Talienda to the floor. :D
Yenet and Talib: Once they are outside, Yenet catches Talib glancing at the time of day. "I hope this morning has been productive for you," he says with a smile. "Maat willing, it has helped you in your investigation of what's happening." Though his gaunt features are decidedly unsuited for smiling, Talib does signal his gratitude with a shallow bow. "Maat willing," he repeats solemnly, in more-or-less fluent Osiriani. "Thank you for your assistance." "The girl's name is Cornela Lupei, if I'm not mistaken. Perhaps you will come across her one day. Please don't judge her too harshly; she seems like a good girl caught up in for too much trouble, yes? I will make some further inquiries to see if I can find out if there are any likely places she would be hiding. I will let you know if I find out anything." "Few people are criminals by choice," Talib muses vaguely. "Regardless, I am not here to apprehend cutpurses." The inquisitor produces a small notebook and writes down the name and the address. "Very well. I would likely have little success by myself, in any case. I have a meeting in Eastgate, after which I will retire to an inn named the Caravanserai, at the southwest corner of the Grand Bazaar. Contact me there." He pauses for a moment, then scribbles Talienda's new address on an empty page, tears it off, and hands it to Yenet. "Or here, should I be unavailable." "There's a person here in the Puddles who looks out for the common folk. No one knows who he is - he wears a mask. He calls himself the Shining Falcon. [...] If it's not too bold of me, perhaps I might suggest you try to seek him out some time, to share information and maybe explore if there's a possibility of working together? Talib's stoic expression reveals little as to his inner thoughts. "I see. And where might I find this... 'Shining Falcon?'"
Yenet and Talib: She sips her tea, clearly starting to forget her fear and getting in the mood for a rant. “And that little goblin is almost as bad. Now the leader, they say. Evil little goblin. [...] If their boss is dead like you say, then the little green bastard is probably calling the shots.” He turns his head and raises one eyebrow in question at Talib. Ever impassive, Talib answers Yenet's look with a noncommital half-shrug. "That would explain the Shades' new foray into arson," he muses dryly.
As the discussion carries on, the inquisitor silently mulls over his options. He needs more information on the goblin, but more immediately, he must locate the girl. An informant would save him a lot of legwork, especially with the district in such a panicked state. Once her whereabouts are clear, he would need to reassess the situation—whether the girl could be extracted discreetly, or if there is need for a full-blown raid. The latter could result in more evidence, with the added bonus of striking an early blow against the gang's operations. However, this would also put them on alert. Subterfuge is the optimal strategy. The inquisitor waits patiently for Yenet to finish his line of questioning, but he pointedly drains his cup to signal that he is ready to leave. Once the meeting us drawing to a close, Talib draws an official-looking document from his breast pocket. The text is thick with nonsense legalese—quite indecipherable to a layman—and furnished with the seal of a nonexistent tax office. After filling in a few personal details, the inquisitor hands it to Rodina. "Thank you for your cooperation," he says. "Just in case anyone starts giving you trouble, this visit was about missed taxes."
Talib and Yenet: Talib listens to the woman's explanation, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I see..."
"Yes," the inquisitor says in answer to Yenet's question. "I could arrange for witness protection, but whether the girl wants to be cloistered away in the Vault is another matter. A less orthodox solution might be in order." "We should ask her," he concludes. "I am certain she would like to weigh in on the issue. Miss Tatia, do you think your young friend could join us for tea?"
Talib and Yenet: Talib nods politely as he is introduced, and sips his tea with dutiful intent, making all the necessary signals of comfort. None of the liquid passes his lips, of course, until he has seen Yenet partake—not that he thinks the old lady had any motivation to drug or poison either of them, but such assiduities have long ago become a habit. Especially since the incident at the courthouse, the inquisitor had been exceedingly careful about where he takes his meals.
"People are understandably fearful," he adds to Yenet's explanation, "but what they dread is a serpent with no head. For the good of the community, we have to act soon. These criminals have recently lost their leader, but it will be only a matter of time before someone else solidifies their position."
Talib and Yenet: ”Sit, sit! What can this silly old woman do for you?” She says and pushes two stools with her foot towards them whilst tending to the fire. The inquisitor takes a seat and mumbles a thank-you, letting his gaze sweep through the modest domicile. He glances sidelong at Yenet and raises an eyebrow. "An excellent question," he thinks to himself.
Talib works at the fringes of the fringes in the church's hierarchy, being freewheeling even for an inquisitor. Since he can't always depend on the priesthood for resources, he maintains a policy of accepting favours in lieu of money for his services. For example, he might look into the kidnapping of a rich merchant's son, knowing that said merchant has access to other influential people, or retainers with specialised know-how. This way, he builds himself a network of contacts, who can be drawn upon in a variety of tasks. The same applies to less prosperous clientele, as well, for street-level contacts. In this context, Talib might have done such a favour for Sekla directly (maybe looking into who rigged the match where her partner died?), or for a fixer or some other intermediary. It's good to have a list of reliable—as in principled and unbribable—mercenaries for muscle and witness protection, since the district guards can't always be trusted. As for how she came to his attention, he might have seen her fight in the Irorium (likely having been dragged there by his younger brothers), or just heard of her through the grapevine. Being a hobgoblin makes her stand out, but Talib would be more interested in her professionalism than the intimidation factor.
Welcome! I look forward to fighting some crime with y'all.
Talib keeps to his word and shows up intermittently to make sure Talienda is settling into her new home, but he does not fuss over the matter. By this point, the inquisitor trusts Rissi to be sensible enough to guide the girl in her first steps toward independence, and he mostly uses the visits to pass along relevant information about the ongoing investigation. He also takes a look at the curious scroll, but finds himself just as stumped as the bard.
The news about Sir Reckart’s fate genuinely trouble the inquisitor, and he makes sure to personally notify the relevant parties at the Seventh Church about the paladin’s death. Patrissa’s demise is also unfortunate, for more practical reasons—she might have possessed relevant information about the conspiracy. Talib considers requesting access to the body, so that a priest might attempt to converse with her spirit. However, based on the report, he already anticipates this will be a dead end, for the spirits of those corrupted into undeath are quickly swept away to Pharasma’s courts, and seldom remain in the reach of such prayers...
- There was no sign of the fourteenth juror, Killian Paltrick anywhere within the courthouse. Further investigation revealed that Paltrick had died of natural causes more than a month ago Quite a mystery, one which Talib—in less pressing circumstances—might take as a challenge. The most obvious solution to the dead man’s presence in the courthouse is that someone, for some reason, must have assumed his identity, perhaps in order to infiltrate the group of kidnapped jurors. Based on the evidence, the only person with the motive for the kidnapping and the overseeing of thereof is the “Sveth” named in scrawlings on the wall of Mord’s cell. Rather than dwell on the enigma of the dead juror, Talib petitions the district guards to put out separate bounties for Sveth, using the premise of the jurors having been kidnapped from different parts of the city to pressure them into action. A misdeed worthy of punishment, certainly, but merely a symptom of a disease in need of administering.
The inquisitor’s initial approach is three-pronged. Firstly, he launches a directed inquiry into Wade, specifically. He focuses on the man’s legal career and looks for patterns in the cases he has handled, such as his repeated intercessions in Malgrim’s favour. Additionally, he attempts to compile a list of known colleagues going all the way back to the magistrate's education. Secondly, he attempts to go through all the resources at his disposal—the Vault’s archives, Diago Blackhorn’s books, and whatever he can get on Alistir Wade—in order to draw relevant connections between the pair: he focuses on joint business ventures, such as the debts at Lucky Harpy, as well as any common associates. Thirdly, he begins to interrogate his ground-level contacts for information Malgrim’s gang, and their primary operations in relation to the previous two avenues of investigation. Wade had obviously made extensive use of the hobgoblin and his cronies, but for what, exactly? Anyone who has been previously extorted or threatened might be an especially valuable source of information. Any unexplained killings of such people attributable to Malgrim could also point in the right direction.
Talib uses the money from the bounty to re-equip himself for the task ahead. As for his sparse moments of recreation, Talib spends them by meticulously cleaning his new flail, and begins reacquainting himself with its use—it has been quite a while since his basic arms training, and the falchion has always been his weapon of choice. For one reason or other, he now finds the brutal implement more to his liking. Fabulously well-crafted and bearing useful enchantments, it also serves as a fitting reminder of his failures. He spends many an hour in prayer over the weapon and meditating on its baleful associations, and rededicates himself to his quest for justice.
Okay, that makes 243 gp per head. I'll go ahead and clear the sheet.
Also, Talib, question regarding your report to the high inquisitor: can I assume that everything your character knows is there or are you going to omit something? If so, what? No omissions.
Purchases:
3000 gp
Sold:
Bought:
= 7 gp 5 sp So, going through what's on the loot spreadsheet (that is still relevant): 13 gp
The scroll can stay with Rissi, though Talienda might be able to get some use out of it as well. I suggest that we redistribute the potions as thus: 1 potion of cure light wounds for both Rissi and Talinda, and 2 for Talib; I'd also like to have the potion of bear's endurance. The rest can be liquidated, though there's a lot to be appraised. Everyone should write down what they'll take on their own profiles, so we can clear up the loot sheet.
[...] and his hedgehog familiar Bartholomew can chip in as a very stealthy scout. That is way too adorable.
Well, in case you didn't catch it, there was a hobgoblin gang boss among the people caught in the courthouse, so there's certainly precedent. Sekla looks very interesting, and introducing her through Talib's recommendation/the Church of Abadar gives a pre-existing connection to a player character, as well, which I like. Talienda would be absolutely terrified of Sekla, I'm sure. :P
Before the others are released, Talib pulls them aside for a briefing in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms in the Vault—an ostentatious yet tastefully decorated chamber used for both financial and legal counselling for affluent parishioners. "You are still in danger," he says to Talienda, "and the Executive has put me in charge of your safety. Obviously, it is neither appropriate nor convenient for me to accompany you around the clock, or vice versa. Unless Miss Than has other engagements, I would request that you remain with Miss Blackhorn. Avoid unnecessary traffic, and do not go anywhere alone. Use runners when possible. If you have access to your father's funds, I suggest investing some of it on security for whatever domicile you decide to inhabit—mercenaries, warding magic, and so forth. I can recommend a few trustworthy professionals..." The inquisitor pulls out his notebook and scribbles down a few names and addresses. He tears out the page, folds it, and hands it to Talienda. "I will visit as often as I can, and keep both you updated on the investigation. We all have a personal connection to the case, and I may yet need your assistance."
We should probably get the loot spreadsheet cleared up for the next arc—the new characters will be coming in with full WBL, and we need to keep up. Now that we're in the Vault, can we get someone to appraise/identify the stuff we haven't been able to? They can have a share once it's been liquidated.
Hi, I'm the aforementioned inquisitor. I don't have much to add to Talienda's summary—the front line could really use some additional muscle. @Iff: It would be interesting to have a vigilante in the group. As GM Omelas already pointed out, it sounds like there might be some overlap in our characters' areas of operation. Talib is not exactly pro-vigilantism, but he's got bigger, systematically corrupt fish to fry. This—along with his methods—often puts him at odds with secular authorities. Of course, unlike a vigilante from the Puddles, he's got the divine mandate of the god of law on his side. @electricjokecascade: Hello there, friend. I look forward to seeing your submission. :)
LEVEL 3:
Base Stats:
Skills:
Background Skills [2 pts.]:
Languages:
Class Abilities:
Feat:
New Spells:
There we go.
Oho, a level-up! I'll be sticking with inquisitor, for sure, but I'll have to look through some feats. A proper healer would be nice, and maybe something rogue-ish. I'd also like to have someone with me in the front line, but otherwise I'm not too picky. PbtA is very much my jam, but alas, I've no more capacity for additional campaigns. To be honest, I'm also kind of iffy on whether or not such a conversation-based system will mesh with the PbP format. Do let me know how it goes, if you get picked!
They stand up, an imposing figure taller even than Talib. "Inquisitor Talib, you are responsible for the safety and well-being of your witnesses. Take them to one of the guest chambers and see that they are comfortable -- they are clearly in no condition of returning home so late at night. Tomorrow a taxmaster will take your testimonies, after which you will be free to resume your investigation. I take it from your words that the district guard should be involved or at least notified. See that it is done and make sure they send you a report -- use our messengers, if necessary." Talib nods and does as he is bid. This was not exactly what he had wanted, but he knows better than to bargain with the Executive. Once the inquisitor has escorted the others to their chambers to and been tended to by a healer, he spends a few hours in a nearby study writing a report. He also prepares a message to his contact in the Post Guard—the Dock Guard is close to the Precipice as well, but far less reliable overall—and a trustworthy accountant. With the knowledge of Diago Blackhorn's and Alistir Wade's partnership, it might be fruitful to cross-reference their finances and look for repeated patterns and shared external connections. Finally, even Talib is forced to admit he is too tired to go on, and he retires for what is left of the night.
So far so good. I do want to point out that I deliberately avoided gendered terms when describing the Executive: their entire identity is supernaturally obfuscated, both to help them in fulfilling their duties (which require autonomy from church hierarchy, intimidation, and subterfuge), and so as to symbolically divest them of whatever personal interests might interfere with their work.
"Executive," Talib says, bowing curtly. "My wounds are manageable. I will provide you with a full written report as promptly as possible. For now, this is the crux of the matter: I have uncovered a criminal conspiracy including, but not limited to, a grave miscarriage of justice. This man..." He points at his captive. "...Silman Trabe, is a judge guilty of wrongful conviction. However, the main culprit was a magistrate named Alistir Wade, whose crimes this judicial murder was meant to obfuscate. By his design, the jury was pressured into providing a false verdict, which led to the execution of an innocent man—and more presently, acts of vigilantism resulting in the deaths of former jurors at the hands of a vengeful spirit." "These two," says the inquisitor, indicating Rissi and Talienda, "are key witnesses to the events. Either through happenstance or the guidance of Abadar, the case is also connected to my investigation of the late Diago Blackhorn. He appears to have been an accomplice of Magistrate Wade, and I have reason to believe the transgressions I have described are only a symptom of a wider proliferation of corruption and organised crime in the districts." Talib looks meaningfully at Talienda. "Relatedly, Miss Blackhorn would benefit from the Vault's protection. We have reason to believe her life is in danger."
Talib certainly has a strong motivation to investigate: he had been looking into Diago's murder before the incident, and corruption in the courts is the biggest no-no for Abadarans in general. Also, family stuff. He pretty much has to keep digging, unless he is given an extremely good reason not to.
"Please! I'm an old man. I have done a terrible thing, yes, and I'll pay for it, but can we keep things discreet? My family does not deserve the shame!" Trabe says, looking back at Talib, pleadingly. The inquisitor remains impassive. "That is the Executive Taxmaster's decision, not mine. Save your pleas for them." Ironically, they might well decide to keep the case quiet—not to save Trabe's kin the indignity, but to have a head start in the follow-up investigation. Assuming the conspiracy to frame Mord had not been an isolated case of misconduct, but a symptom of wider corruption in the justice system, it would not be wise to give the lawbreakers a chance to act. Diago's involvement certainly implies an element of organised crime, but to what extend had he and Alistir been collaborating? "Talib, do you think the sins of the parent pass on to the child," she asks softly. Talib mulls over the question for a moment before answering. "No, but we do often inherit the consequences for their actions..." Working through his mental checklist, he finally comes to a piece of information that had, until now, been a low priority: her grandmother's involvement. Had she been culpable, or simply misled? Talib barely remembers her, more a construct of her mother's admiration than a flesh-and-blood human. A part of him wants to go to his mother, to press her on issue. Of course, that will be impossible, at least until the investigation calls for it—but it does bother him more than he would like. "Be that as it may," muses the inquisitor, "while the world is unjust, our souls will ultimately be weighed against individual action, not inheritance."
As far as I understand, the 2E campaign would be separate from this one. Edit: I wouldn't be against consolidating the two, however, in order to avoid extra work for Omelas. GM burnout is a thing.
I'm fine with continuing to play these characters, especially if you already have ideas for a follow-up scenario. However, I slightly prefer starting fresh—longer PbP campaigns tend to fizzle out sooner or later, so it's good to switch things up every once in a while. That is my experience with the format, anyway. Freeform is A-okay, though in the light of my previous points, I would advise 1) having a definite goal/end point for the following plot arc, and 2) making sure it stays relatively short (the length of an adventure module is just about perfect for PbP, in my opinion). That way, we can check in periodically to confirm if we are still interested in carrying on, as well as having a continuous sense of closure for each arc. As for things outside this specific campaign, I still have that idea of a 2E campaign, but that's probably going to take a few more weeks. If I actually go through with that, you are of course automatically in if you want to take part. I've been pretty ambivalent towards 2E, but maybe it's time to give it another chance!
"Constable, can you take care of those brave ladies for me…? Reckon Mord did a trick or two on Siné and myself…I'll take her somewhere safe and then pass out." He hands Talib a slip of paper with directions to where he's staying. "'case you need me tomorrow to sort out the mess". With that, he and the half-elf slowly make their way out of the district. The inquisitor pockets the slip and nods. "Stay alert. The Precipice Quarter is dangerous, even without the walking dead." Meanwhile, Trabe stares at Talib and pleads on his knees. "Please, have mercy! I will do anything!" Talib silences the judge with a glare. "I shall ensure you receive a fair trial," he says coolly, "which is more than you afforded to Mord." "My home, if I can see it as such after tonight, is in the Petals," Talienda answers sorrowfully. Talib nods. With no other survivors forthcoming, he shakes his head and looks between Rissi and Talienda. "I suggest both of you come by the Vault," he says. "You can give your accounts, and I can turn in Trabe. We can make further plans once we are safe." The inquisitor shoves Trabe towards the exit, motioning for the others to follow. "Move out."
Sweet, sweet closure! This has been a real blast, even though we've lost some players along the way. That's kind of unavoidable in PbP campaigns, unfortunately, but especially troublesome in this particular module—the adventure doesn't really leave a lot of space for bringing in new characters, does it? It is a very atmospheric and engaging scenario nonetheless, and expertly run. Bravo! Are you (or anyone else here) planning on running anything once we're done here? I really dig all of your play styles, and we've all proven ourselves to be reliable in the long term. I'd love to continue together in some fashion.
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