The Falcon closes his eyes out of instinct, even though that does nothing to drown out the noise. Rather, the lack of visual stimulus turns out to make the noise sound even louder in his head. He shakes his head and tries to clear the fog from his head. She trapped her room? Two other thoughts come to mind, both with a wry smile. Well, at least they've got the signal I promised... and I'm glad I gave that guy a gold for disturbing his sleep, instead of a silver.
Turning his focus to more pressing matters, The Falcon pockets the three letters, then quickly puts both hands to his ears and bolts out the door. Straight down and hopefully I'll be able to meet up with the others.
The Falcon closes the door behind him and does a quick survey of the room. I don't think I gave her enough time to hide, but you never know. He leaves the chest once he learns that it's locked and leaves the statuette for later. He quickly opens the wardrobe to check that Cornela isn't hiding there, then reaches up to pick up one of the boxes and look inside it.
The fighting downstairs is getting louder. Does that mean there's nearing the end of the spectacle? I'd better hurry. Maybe I'll have to resort to leaving a note, to make contact with Cornela at a later point. Not ideal, considering how she must feel now.
The Shining Falcon smiles despite himself, a sad smile. Rotten, but consistent. He exchanges the silver piece in his hand for a gold coin from his pouch. I at least can keep my values. He slides the gold coin under the door without another word.
He then quickly stands up and moves over to the indicated door, while reaching in his medicine kit for a thick piece of oiled cloth. He was kind enough to warn me for the trapped door handles. He places his hand on the door handle with the piece of cloth to protect his hand, then speaks through the door in a rapid, urgent voice. "Cornela. You don't know me, but I mean you no harm. We have to talk, and I'm going to open this door. Please hear me out." He waits for two seconds, still as a hunter and listening intently.
If there's no response or an affirmative one, he would open the door and enter the room.
The Falcon smiles behind his mask as the man on the other side of the door reconsiders, then sighs. At least you can count on folks like these to be greedy. Shame, that I'd have to take advantage of his willingness to rat out a fellow tenant. It's for a good cause, though.
He reaches into his coin pouch and reaches for two silver coins. He drops to one knee and slides one of them under the door. "This one's for compensation, because I disturbed you with my noise. There's one more just like it, if you've got some good information for me. On the girl I mentioned. And you'd better make sure it checks out. I'm going to be... disappointed if you think you can spin some tale just to swindle me out of another silver. I'm not going to take that kindly."So trite, but it's probably the only language he'll respond to. The Falcon shakes his head as he waits for an answer.
Intimidate:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15There's a +4 bonus from the Renown social talent, but I don't think it counts since he doesn't know who he's talking to.
The Falcon silently blesses his patrons for having come this far without incident, as he quickly surveys the corridor. Sixteen rooms in use, four that seem vacant? If they're locked, seems reasonable that the girl isn't there. But still too many to check... The end of the corridor is probably where they count the profits. Might be good to know as well.
He takes the bottle of liquor and approaches the door where he thinks the voice came from. "No problem," he says, keeping his voice low enough not to carry down the hall. "I'll just leave the bottle out here," he adds while rapping twice on the door to make sure it's the right one. "As I said though, there's not much left. I could maybe sweeten the deal, if you're willing to talk for a bit more. I'm looking for a girl, half-elven, calls herself Cornela - probably. Seen her around?"
Sorry guys, I'll try to pick up the pace as well. Been quite busy, and the heatwave here doesn't help for my energy to sit behind my computer in the evening. :/
The Falcon picks up the bottle. Only a bit left, but beggars can't be chosers. Let's hope he agrees."Aye," he answers the query from down the hall, not bothering to change his voice all that much because he'd consider it futile effort. "Not much left, but it's yours if you let me do my work - which might involve some more noise."
The Shining Falcon goes stiff when he hears that his attempt caused a reaction. So, the guard - or whoever is in the hallway - thinks that Petric is still in here. Either he's no paying attention to the lock, or this person was supposed to be locked up in here. He's not a friendly fellow, either way. He doesn't want to get himself into a fight - at least not if he can help it - so he reconsiders his options. He opens the door again, just for a inch, and tries to take a peek outside, hopefully to get a better look at whoever is in the hallway.
I'm a bit hesitant to do something that will probably initiate combat, while the party is split up. Let's see where this leads.
The Falcon silently curses his luck. Why would they lock an empty room? or was this meant for one of the goblin fighters, who escaped through the open window? Keeping one eye on the door, he steps to the small chest at the foot of the bed and squats down to open it. Might provide some clues.
After that, he approaches the door and looks at the lock and chain again, through a crack on the door. If I want to proceed, I'll have to break this open. He waits for a swell in the noise from below, then puts his shoulder to the door in an attempt to break the chain.
Strength:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 That probably won't work. He'll wait for a moment to check whether his attempt hasn't drawn someone's attention, then would push his luck and try again.
This won't do, The Shining Falcon thinks to himself while looking at the open window. I wasn't supposed to provide the distraction by getting myself noticed. Pulling his cloak close he withdraws further to the nearby alley. To the roof, then. It's a difficult jump. I should be able to make it, Horus willing.
The Shining Falcon puts two fingers to his mask at the temple, by way of greeting. "No telling what we'll run into. I'll try to send a signal." With that, he retreats back the way they came to circle around the building. The hunt is on, it seems.
Finding a quiet spot, he gets a better look at the building, looking for way to enter on the second floor. Maybe an open window, or a roof adjacent that will let me start from the advantage?
The Shining Falcon watches the interaction between Talienda and Rissi without interfering, cocking his head slightly as he watches. Curious. I'm not sure if it will actually allow them to blend in, or will only draw attention. But either way, we'll have to improvise.
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."
The Shining Falcon agrees with Sekla's sentiment on their course of actio, even though he chooses different words. "Indeed, digging in won't move us forward. I would suggest staying mobile and facing the problem head-on."
He nods at Rissi's arguments concerning Talienda's disguise and adds his own thoughts, speaking from experience. "Donning a disguise isn't as simple as putting on some beggar's clothes, or dying one's hair. Those are only the tools that you use to essentially become someone else. For the time being, of course," he adds, forestalling the thought that they have to change who they are completely.
Coming round to Talib's plan, the Falcon nods again. "I would suggest I might go as a wrestler as well - they are prone to theatrics and costumes - but I believe you're right that we're dealing with wrestling matches performed by goblins, not just organized by them. Sekla might be allowed to enter, as a 'special appearance'?" He shrugs apologetically. "I might be able to find my own way in, as you said."
Falcon meets the hobgoblin's stern gaze. As she speaks he cocks his head slightly, wondering. He has his own thoughts on the matter, but isn't going to argue the point; That's not in his nature. "Perhaps you are right. And I can only hope my aid will be effective."My reflection? I suppose it depends on who I see watching back at me.
He sympathizes with the plight of the young noblewoman, who seems to feel locked in. Again? "I am sorry for your predicament, Miss. - Talienda. Let us hope any measures made are only temporary. And let they strengthen our resolve to get to the bottom of what is happening, so that we may live as we please, without fear of retribution." He holds up his hands in apology at having little solid aid to give. "I hail from the Puddles. Many are fine folk, but they might not be at home here. They would surely stand out."
"Talienda it is," he says with another nod of his head.
The masked figure seems to share Talib's discomfort as he himself is being introduced. His eyes shift down. "I do apologize for the lack of a proper name, and for the mask." He hesitates for a bit. "I've seen crime on the rise in the city, and wanted to take action. But it felt wrong to do so as... me." He glances away, possibly embarrassed. "The mask gives me focus, as I explained to Talib earlier. And it protects me from retribution in my personal life." He holds a hand up to Talienda in apology, for she just suffered exactly that. "The moniker is... what I aspire to be, a beacon and example for the people of the Puddles. Please just call me Falcon, if that is all right with you."
"Could be," the Shining Falcon answers to Rissi when she suggests a shapechanger. "I know little of such matters. Stated what my association was at first encountering it. The way it shifts colour, seemed to breathe. Not sentient perhaps, but alive nonetheless."
The Shining Falcon stowes his discovery and quickly makes his way downstairs to show it before it's disappeared completely. He's about to explain his presence to the cadet posted at the front door, but finds that Talib has already explained the situation. Very prudent, he is.
Seeing Rissi and Sekla, he comments "I found something. I'll show it to Talib," because he doesn't presume to show them first. Rather, he goes inside to locate Talib, finding the Abadaran in conversation with the young noblewoman. "My Lady," He acknowledges her with a nod of his head and a slight bow. He sees the drawing she's made and makes a mental note to ask for a copy later. I might show this around the Puddles, to see if it was the same figure people saw when the Harpy burned down.
He then turns to Talib, but explicitly includes any others into the explanation. They are at least as closely connected to the incident, after all. "Here's what I found on the roof," he says as he produces the bottle. "I've never seen this before. Formless and shifting color. If I didn't know better, I thought it was alive. It was disappearing rapidly. I managed to slow this slightly by trapping the substance in the bottle." His description is factual and while it makes it clear that he's not the most learned man, he is careful and methodical in his way of thinking and talking.
The Shining Falcon looks down at the people in the streets. Oblivious to what's going on around them. As it should be. Enough worries in an everyday life, for anyone. He looks across the street, to the noblewoman's house, trying to figure out where the robed assailant must have been standing. He spots the hobgoblin woman - Sekla, he rehearses her name - and puts two fingers to the corner of his eye in a silent greeting.
He then notes the silvery substance and acts quickly. Could be residue of the magic that this dwarf-figure performed? He draws his dagger and prods it in the gooey substance. If it lingers long enough, he'll retrieve a vial from his healer's kit and try to trap the substance within. What kind of magic could create this, or is a reagent used in casting a specific spell?
Spellcraft:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
If nothing else is to be found here, the Shining Falcon would return to the house as Talib requested.
The Shining Falcon nods once he has Talib's assent. "Very well." He's turns back after two paces, not wanting to alarm anyone further. "Let them know that if they see anyone on the roof shortly, it will be me."
He leaves the group swiftly and goes off to find the easiest way up to the rooftops. Before he makes the ascent, he puts both of his hands lightly on the sides of his mask and concentrates. "Grant me focus and the vision of the falcon, that I might protect these people from their unknown assailant."
Casting Aspect of the Falcon for the +3 Perception bonus. Then climbing up and taking a good look around.
The Shining Falcon gives a short nod of his head to Sekla when Talib introduces him, but takes his cue and doesn't speak yet. He listens intently, dealing with lots of new names at once. His head makes small movements from person to person as they speak. It seems the lady finds herself a target. From these gangs, or something unrelated?
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."
Any chance that the mention of a magic-using dwarf rings a bell, in the context of what the Shining Falcon knows already? It's little to go on, but who knows...
Following a few paces behind Talib is a man in a rich azure cloak with the hood drawn up. Even inside the hood, his face isn't visible. He seems to be wearing a mask that is decorated with a falcon's beak. Beneath the cloak he's dressed in snug clothing in warm shades of tan and brown, along with an articulated piece of armor that covers his torso. In his left hand he holds a wrapped bundle of weapons.
The man stays close enough to hear the conversation but doesn't speak. He first observes his surrounding, then look at the three woman that Talib pulled over. A young woman, a ratfolk and a hobgoblin? Talib keeps some interesting company. The Shining Falcon has enough self-awareness to smile at this observation. I won't have to worry about fitting in, I suppose.
"I trust you when you say it goes deep as that, I had feared as much." His voice is grave but determined. "I have no interest in politics; I just want to see the streets safe. Who knows - maybe if we clear the worst of it, people will rise the occasion to provide worthy leadership." He shakes his head. "I'll have my part, but that's not me."
When Talib agrees to pool their resources, the Shining Falcon nods. "Good." There's a hint of surprise in his voice, as if he had expected to have to argue harder. He runs a hand along the brow of his mask. "You'll have to forgive me if I choose to stay masked, at least for the time being. I've found that it helps focus my resolve to tackle these events. And I suppose it gives me some comfort that I might retreat to my own home when I choose, safe from retaliation." He lowers his gaze. "In truth, I may not be so brave."
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?"
It's difficult to see behind the mask, but there seems to be a hint of a smile in his eyes. The Shining Falcon thinks about the divine presence that he feels when he wears the mask, but he would never suppose that this gives him any 'rights'.
"None," he admits simply, before correcting himself. "One, perhaps: necessity." He lets the word sink in before continuing. "I work with the local guards whenever I can, I am not of some one-man crusade. But there is a gang war brooding, it's too big for them to handle, and I cannot - will not! - sit by idly when it grinds up innocents and spits them out when done with them." After these fiery words, there's the flicker of a smile again. "Your question cuts to the heart of the matter. I do not want to do this alone." The unspoken implication seems to be that he will do it alone, if left no other option. "You can see why I would like to join with your efforts, al-Abadar..."
In Crastel's ally stands a man with the hood of his rich azure cloak up. He's apparently been waiting for Talib and makes his presence known from quite a distance, holding both his hands where the Abadaran can see them. "Thank you for meeting me," He says in a direct and crisp tone of voice, which doesn't bear any distinctive accent.
He puts his hands on his cloak and pulls down the hood, revealing a leather piece of headgear that covers his entire head and is adorned with a silver and bronze falcon's mask which glimmers in the light coming from above. "I assumed you would be wary of meeting a stranger in a quiet alley, but it seemed the best opportunity to talk. Let me be direct: I would like to join your efforts to stop the brewing gang war in the Puddles, and beyond."
