Tanariel dives behind a pillar and covers his face. A moment later he looks up to the human fallen in the grease and asks, "Are you sure you have the right people? I can't imagine who'd be my enemy."
Tanariel nods. "Ah, but Dreng never demanded we do this. He hasn't asked for these documents. I happen to know someone in the Pathfinders who should be able to decipher them; if it's all right with you, I'll take these, deliver them there, and ensure that we receive proper recognition for their retrieval."
"Please, Entorra, let's not be rude. I've got a perfectly good old newspaper you can use for the purpose."
Tanariel moves near the door to the east. As he pulls out his crossbow, he calls out, "Excuse me, Mr. Fimbrik, sir? We apologize for the door. The Pathfinder Society will mend it for you. Would it be too much to call off your guards?"
"Out of respect for the dead, we should return the coin for now," Tanariel adds. Turning to Hadriana, he adds, "You are most kind, and thank you for your services. Not all can do the work you do here. Can we expect you here, keeping your vigil, until we return?"
Tanariel pulls the hood of his cloak over his head as he chuckles. "Dreng is a liar. He cares not for the bottle. It was clearly a code to get us back here. Now, the real question is, now that we're here, what shall we do about it?"
Looking over the documents again, he turns to Stephen. "You mentioned Selmius Foster earlier, I believe. He's a founding Pathfinder, right? So all this would be quite in the past. Eylysia, Arkath, Fimbrik, Doulgonir, Mollis, Katrina Clamp... Do any of these names sound familiar to you?"
Tanariel grins beneficently, pulls out his wand and touches himself with it. "There, that's better." He wipes his face.
Gesturing into the room beyond, he continues, "Shall we, then? Watch your step, there are bats all over. I doubt we have to worry about fleas, though."
But my Sanctuary DC is 14... I guess they get a +3 or something...
Fort:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
IN THE ROOM:
Tanariel winces as the bats bite into his flesh. He looks at his companions, smiles as a rivulet of blood rolls down his face, and closes the door behind him.
He covers his face as the bats surround him. His companions, on the other side of the door, do not hear the word he speaks, nor do they see him take his hands off his face, nor do they feel his mask.
Negative energy channel:1d6 ⇒ 5x1.5 = 7 damage. DC 13 Will.
Tanariel waits for Solomon's color spray to go off, holds a moment to let acid fly into the swarm, then without so much as a word, steps inside, closing the door behind him.
Hold action until after Entorra, close door, then move through the swarm toward the desk.
Smirking, Tanariel looks at the situation. "Well, perhaps we should prise this bottle from the wall, and bring it back to Dreng? At the very least, he should be surprised."
Tanariel retreats back up the stairs. "It's either shut the door, or chastise the establishment for allowing colonies of bats to lurk in their basement. So please, Entorra, let's see if the door shuts properly. If it does, everyone back, and I'll deal with them. In any case, stand back, Solomon!"
Move action to new position.
GM:
Hold action: Negative channel against life if the door fails to close, using Selective Channel to exclude Entorra from the effect. If I have to hit Solomon, too, then I won't.
Tanariel narrows his eyes in distrust. "Oh, so this is the special bottle? Why does part of me wonder what would happen, should we grab the bottle next to it and bring it to Dreng?"
Tanariel tsks at Heryn as Stephen falls. "Well, no time like the present, eh, Heryn? Go get us stronger material. You'll need it, if you want to reach the wine for any paying customer."
Muttering under his breath, Tanariel adds, "Should have guessed after the glass of water... So easy, she said..."
Diplomacy:1d20 + 5 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 3 = 16
Tanariel then runs toward the east wall to brace against as he skips over the gap.
With a 10' running start, I take 10 on Acrobatics, +2 Dex -4 Armor = 8, so that clears an 8' gap. I make it across and have marked it on the map.
"Someone check on Stephen," he calls back to the party. "I'll get the bottle."
"You neglected to mention your own loveliness in your journal, Ms. Gavix. But Heryn is, indeed, a sight my century-old eyes warmly welcome," Tanariel mentions.
Turning back to Heryn, he continues, "Indeed, Amelie speaks the truth. We're simply here to fetch a package for Dreng. Making your acquaintance is a reward I accept gratefully. I'm sure there won't be a problem retrieving the package for us?"
Holding on to his cloak, Tanariel carefully scrapes the worst of the sogginess off outside and stands tall and inscrutable, taking in the scene. Considering the layout a moment, he heads over to the bar, by Janira.
Tanariel speaks to the two, "My dear fellows, I am here seeking the lovely Heryn Gale. I am told I should be able to recognize her from her beauty, so I must ask, which of the two of you is she?"
"Fascinating," Tanariel muses, with arched eyebrow. "One might expect that the founding location of the Pathfinder Society could dispatch a package to a Venture Captain."
Smirking, he adds, "The place must be storied, indeed."
Turning to his companions, he finishes, "And so, it shall be our turn to play the courier? And shall we do something about our fine leader's bodily welfare, in this cold rain?"
A tall, willowy elf, wearing a brown and black scholar's outfit, puts away a pair of pince-nez and brightly smiles. "Hello! My name's Tanariel. I joined the Society specifically to learn more. There's just so much one can experience, staying in one place, until everything grows both familiar and strange... but when you're traveling to the ends of Golarion seeking knowledge, it all becomes strange and familiar again! If that makes any sense."
Leaning in to Stephen, he whispers, "Let me know when and if the young lady chooses to suspect us."
Tanariel emerges from the kitchen, maskless, and tosses a pot of stew on the fire in the common area. "There! Do not worry, gracious hostesses, we shall clean up the mess from the stew. Rather that than the fire, I'd wager."
Tanariel shakes his head as he walks across the field, avoiding the combat, and heading into the kitchen. "No, this won't do. This won't do at all..." he mutters to himself, keeping away from the fray.
He pulls his cloak around him as he enters the kitchen, hiding his face. "No, you don't understand..." he continues as he wanders.
Taking his hands off his cloaked face, he looks back at the Razmiri priest. "There is nothing purifying here," he explains.
His face is covered by a silvery, featureless mask. And nothing is pure.
Move to position, and channel negative energy. DC 13 Will for half. Use Selective Channeling to exclude Gratius, and it should hit the two Razmiri only from my position.
I'd do what now? Actually, I never had confirmation that I was able to pray for spells again, so I didn't assume I got any. Let me know if that's not true.
Casting a quick glance to the party, Tanariel adds, "Well, I'll be sharing my room with Merisiel, as I'm sure you understand. Gratius, Iago, I'll want you sharing the room across from us, in case we need assistance. Theodic, you'll have the other luxury chamber for the evening. Just a little something to recover from the drake. That leaves the fourth chamber for you, Tomren. A little privacy for your studies."
Without skipping a beat, he finishes, "That will be all. Do please be a dear and settle our accounts with these fine ladies, I do not wish to be an undue burden."
He swaggers off to the bath, exuding an odd, elfin command.
Diplomacy:1d20 + 5 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 3 = 9
Applying Influential trait. But he does come off as an arrogant elf.
"Well, I think the four rooms in the south wing by the baths are sufficient. That will be what, 16 gold? Here's 10 now, we'll provide the balance when we leave on the morrow. Gentlemen, Merisiel, let's get ourselves situated for the evening. We'll be out shortly for stew once we've settled in."
Tanariel then ushers everyone into the fine and lavish rooms to discuss the plan form here.
"A pot with bones does not mean that there's necessarily foul play. It all depends on the bones, now, does it not? Did they look like the bones of a dwarf to you?"
Turning to the door, he adds, "Regarding the locks, however, I would fully expect the doors to be unlockable from the outside. That's what keys are for, and woe betide the innkeeper who doesn't have a spare set of keys. Yet, if you spotted the mechanism, then no doubt you're not the only one. I wouldn't leave valuables lying about. Be discreet and conscientious. Block the door and leave by the window if you must."
Casting a furtive look around, Tanariel finishes with, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to freshen up for the evening." With that, he heads to the bath room.
It's dusk. Time to pray. Also, time to search the bath room. Cast Detect Magic, Take 20, get a 25 Perception.
Tanariel relaxes as Merisiel and Iago take the lead on the bluff.
"Thank you, Iago. Let's not bore our gracious host with all the details, I do believe a good night's sleep would serve us all well. Frau Grymble, would you be able to prepare a bath, and rooms for five?"
