The Usurer, having made sure that everyone was safe, turns towards the dragon. Letting loose an incantation, a ball of flame and gas, the size of a head, goes roaring towards the dragon.
Makes the save!
1/2 = 20 pts.
The Usurer then screams out,
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The Usurer is outside, working on some horseshoes, when the first roar comes across. He looks up, an expression of fear on his face. Not for himself, but for the rest of the camp. Looking around, he sees several people at the bazaar. He starts screaming for them to get into shelter, shooing the children into his house. He then begins an incantation, facing the house.
"As you please. No secrets? Then, would you care to share your story of how you came to be here?" Macavity unabashedly replies in a low tone. "Sure, meet me in the bar around sunset. I'll be happy to talk then."
"Ask away, sir." Macavity replies with interest piqued. In a low tone, the Usurer replies, "The next time you'd like to come into my house, please, knock. I hold no secrets from your party, as you may well be aware."
After a mild pause, Macavity asks the Usurer his questions again, "How are you? Any news?" "No, I'm afraid," the Usurer says, keeping up the conversation between two people, "it's been pretty quiet. I do have a favor to ask, however."
"No, Ruul, good help is in fact hard to find these days. Do you plan on putting these strangers up in your inn if asked?" You figure at this point, the caravan is about a mile and a half away. You've got an hour to make a decision, should you choose to.
"Ah, you are the one they call, MaCavity, right?""I am." Macavity replies wondering where this is going. Turning back to you, he beams. "Good. You do seem like the kind of person that wants to know what's going on in the world." You notice that he dances around your original question, but has not yet tapped it.
Turning to you, he says, "I normally use a messenger, but I can use a spell in an emergency. I take it you have plans for expanding the inn?"
"How are you, Usurer? Any news?" Macavity casually asks the lich. The Usurer looks down at you before smiling. His incredibly straight, white teeth are disconcerting, how did they get the wood dentures so white like that, you would think at a moment like this. "Ah, you are the one they call, MaCavity, right?"
You look through the spyglass and see...a small caravan of wagons and people. You would say perhaps 5, maybe 6 wagons. They are still too far away to tell how many people. The Usurer comes out his house to take a look, his hearing at least as good as your eyesight, apparently. Taking a look at a concerned Ruul, he says "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much, Ruul. We get those kind of people on a regular basis. Remember, you were just like them a mere 2 days ago. They might look for some lodging, and there's not a whole lot around..."
The Usurer saw what was coming up the street, noticing how everyone just sort of...disappeared. He had heard about this kind of thing happening, in other times, other places. He also knew what would happen next. Sure enough, out came the new people, it was almost as if in some kind of play, a script, the playwrights called it. Most of the new people came out of the boarding house, the Usurer took note of who came out, and more importantly, who decided to stay out of the fight. He took little notice of the battle over the next few seconds, he was holding an orange-hot horseshoe by a pair of tongs that needed mending. A bit after the first swing of his hammer, he heard a sound. He recognized it as a sound that an animal makes after smelling a skunk, or something similar. He looked up, and saw a goblin bear, starting to run. One of Mama's, he wondered briefly. Then he saw that the goblin bear was running straight towards his house, even him. He stepped forward, away from the cooling horseshoe and tongs, now fallen to the ground. He sees the bear charging him. That's when he strikes.
In almost a blink, the large, crazed bear transforms into...a small house cat, maybe a little larger than both hands put back together. It looks around in confusion before beginning to bathe itself. Satisfied, the Usurer walks back to his workshop, picks up the tongs and horseshoe, and begins blowing the dust and dirt that has clung to the still hot shoe.
As the two of you walk outside, the Usurer says to you, "After a few centuries, I can understand how...odd it seems to talk to a lich that doesn't automatically rip your head off and vomit down your gullet. Even the ones who don't kill undead outright find my existence odd. But honestly, the Usurer turns to look at you directly, I have no meat with any of you. I do need the inn to keep running, but it's mostly for the good of the Camp, the gnomes' proclivities notwithstanding. I may even have need of your services, since your group is so eager to explore the Desolation. For now, however, I wish you all luck in your endeavors." With that, the Usurer turns to walk down the path back to his house.
Standing up, he stretches a bit, joints popping in his knees and elbow. "Well, unless there's anything else, I need to make a couple of horseshoes for Finnelaus. Good day to you." With that, the Usurer turns to leave.
The Usurer turns back to Calendir and says, "It's pretty straightforward, I think. You run the inn here, once you've made your changes, and I charge you better rates on exchange after a few weeks. We both pretend to like each other, and promise not to kill each other if it is not deserved." He turns back to Numair and says, "That is the gist of it, I believe?"
Azaraunt seems to be pondering the possibilities of Lichdom for a moment before responding. No, dark forces are only one type of force that may be manipulated, if you have the skill. I see little to fear except extending oneself beyond one's skill level, would you not agree? And I am quite interested in the process of becoming a lich itself, academically of course. So many rumor and false information out there on the topic. Perhaps you could one day enlighten me? I am an elf, as I am sure you have noted, and quite young for my kind. If your wastes do not cut it short as you predict, I should have many years of "life" before I might consider your, er, path. "I'd be happy to have a scribe make a copy of my notes for you, if you wish, for academics, of course." It's the Usurer's turn to turn a silvery tongue.
I am sure he is fascinate with you good sir, but I will have a word with him. I do hope he is not contemplating a change of management. Azaraunt says with a silver tongue and smile. Smiling at you after answering Numair, the Usurer says to you, "You don't seem to be afraid of dark forces. Ever thought about becoming a lich? It certainly makes life more exciting, I can tell you."
"To your points," says the Usurer, holding up a bony finger for each point. "I have no problems with how you run the house here, so long as it is run as an inn of some kind. I will not levy taxes on you, nor did I levy any on the gnomes. I make plenty of money off of those who pass through. If you're not in a rush to build or expand, then neither am I. If you don't wish me to enter your premises again after this, then I won't. As I said, how you run this place is up to you." After that, the Usurer turns his head slightly towards Azaraunt. "Would you please tell your damned imp to stop staring at me? Yes, I am of the 'undead,' just leave it at that." "I understand that we'll never truly get along, and that my presence bothers the crap out of you. But I'm not going to kick you to the street just because you don't like undead folk trying to make an honest living." The Usurer tries not to laugh, but he does. The last bit was just too ironic to be anything but funny. "That being said, you're not the first person to have told me that they're going to clean up around here. You won't be the last. Let's just say, I know what the odds are. It's more likely that you and your group are going to join the ranks of the dead out there in the Desolation. I'm not saying that as a threat, but as a simple fact. Few ever walk out of here alive after having visited the Desolation. You might be stronger than most, but that doesn't make it any more likely that you'll survive in the long run. The longer you stay here, the less likely you'll leave here."
"To your points," says the Usurer, holding up a bony finger for each point. "I have no problems with how you run the house here, so long as it is run as an inn of some kind. I will not levy taxes on you, nor did I levy any on the gnomes. I make plenty of money off of those who pass through. If you're not in a rush to build or expand, then neither am I. If you don't wish me to enter your premises again after this, then I won't. As I said, how you run this place is up to you." After that, the Usurer turns his head slightly towards Azaraunt. "Would you please tell your damned imp to stop staring at me? Yes, I am of the 'undead,' just leave it at that."
Imbukar, back in raven form, and invisible as usual sits on some fixture above the wizard watching. He will cast Deathwatch before the meeting starts and maintain it for the duration of the meeting, likely confirming that the Usurer is indeed undead.
"The gnomes may have been clever enough to keep their activities hidden, but they made the serious mistake of underestimating us. However, we did not come here, to the Desolation, to play innkeepers. I can understand how it would be in the best interests of the Camp to have an operating flophouse where travelers could rest in safety. As a concerned citizen, I support the continued operation of this boarding house for the health of the community. Under our management, I expect the rate of lethal 'accidents' to fall off dramatically. As such, we are going to need to expand the premises to accomodate guests who stay longer than a single night. Is your goodwill and neighborly concern sufficient to consider offering us a more favorable currency exchange rate so that we might develop this place properly? Also, as the de-facto legal authority in this town, we would need assurances of your support in safeguarding the manager we will instill to run the operations. Can you provide such?" "I somehow suspect that you would not run this as a flophouse, but as an actual establishment. I believe that it is good for the Camp because it gives this place an air of permanency, which was not around before I came to be here. If you don't want to kill anyone that stays here, that is no skin off of my bones, and I daresay that the old management style would not likely to be missed. "As to your former request, that in part is up to you. Anyone that actually stays here, and by that, I mean you keep the bulk of your belongings here, whether you go out into that mess or not, for at least a month does receive more favorable exchanges in currency. I might even be able to get you some basic building materials. There are still some stone blocks from my old tower and that I could have brought over here, if that's what you wish to use for your expansion. Otherwise, you have to get the rest on your own. The currency exchange is the same offer that I make to all who stay on for some time. "As to your latter request, I make no more assurances for him than I would make for you, or even Lucky at the tavern, and he has been here almost as long as I have. That being said, locals are rarely bothered by other locals. The temporary guests on the other hand can be nuisances, but if you put the right person in here to run the place while you are out exploring the wastelands, he'll be fine. Do you have someone in mind to run this place, or would you rather I select someone?"
"Thank you." He does in fact step inside, trying not to brush against Numair as he does so. He then takes a seat on the couch in the main area. "It would appear that there has been a change in management here. We need to discuss that, and how the change impacts the camp as a whole." He pauses for a moment, then goes on. "Quite honestly, no one really cared what the gnomes did here. Oh sure, there were some suspicions, but to their credit, the gnomes took great pains to hide their victims. That being said, the boarding house must continue to function going forward."
A little after midday, there is a knock at the door. Opening it, you see the Usurer standing on the step, his blacksmith's apron replaced with well-worn pants and a simple cotton long sleeve. Despite the cold air and light breeze, the Usurer seems completely unfazed. "Is now a good time to talk about the boarding house?"
Macavity nods in easy acknowledgement, "I could speak for our party, but there are others who enjoy it more than me. Where and when would you like to have our parlay? While my sleep schedule is closer to yours, they need some time this morning to sleep off this evening's events and breakfast. Maybe midday somewhere that can accommodate us indoors?" "That would be fine. No need to serve up lunch for me. As you have figured out, I don't eat much." With that, the Usurer turns to deal with the corpse and the other standing bodies.
Macavity nods to the Hanged Man and shrugs, "I've time now. What would you want to discuss?" His demeanor is actually open and honest. "Well, it's about these gnomes, the business they were running, and how that will impact our little bit of civilization in the coming months. Do you and your orc friend speak for your whole party? If so, let's talk. Otherwise, I'd like to speak to everyone at once, if you don't mind." He looks at you for a moment before continuing. "I think that you have some suspicions about me, so I can understand if you have any trepidations. I am sincere in wishing to parlay without any kind of violence."
Both of you head back to the Camp, taking your time to cover your tracks so no one could find this escape route again. The first rays of dawn are looking for a foothold as you come back in from the South. As you approach the common area, you see four creatures. The first is the dead gnome, already the skin is growing darker, while the hair is now stark white, even in the dim of early morning. The second creature looks cadaverous. It is wearing fine clothes and a top hat, and is likely a mortician, judging from the way he is handling the corpse. The third creature is the Hanging Man and the last is the Usurer. The Hanging Man starts to growl when you approach. The Usurer puts a hand on its shoulder and says firmly, "No." The Usurer then approaches you and begins speaking. "Looks like you boys were pretty busy last night. Do you have time to talk, or do you want to wait and get some rest first?" He talks to you in a calm manner with no hint of impending attack.
The wizard comments to the group out loud so that the Userer can clearly hear him. Perhaps we should find a local to do our exchange for us and pay them a few iron bits for their trouble. He obviously does not like being openly robbed. "If you find someone, let me know, so that I can run you both out of town." He says this with no change in tone, but the malice is clearly there.
"If you trade them back when you leave, it is one iron bit for two gold pieces. That's called profiting, my friend. As to what makes my bits different...you said you already had a few bits? Pull one out and I'll show you." "See, my marking is indented, a letter C with a line through it. Most gold you'll find is the opposite, with some crown's face on it or some such. To your other question, it's not a crime to use other coin, but no one will take it, pure and simple. They'll tell you to come back here, without exception." "As far as living here, there aren't a lot of rules to abide by. Namely, don't piss people off. This is a very small area, and word gets around fast. IF you stay here long enough, you'll be considered a Local, and you'll get a better exchange rate. It's pretty simple once you get the hang of it. Most don't."
You were seen to be part of the group.
"Well, I'll answer your second question first, my stout friend. There are a lot of transients that flow through here, most of them having gold and silver. The gold from Magnimar, for example, might be worth more than a piece from Nerosyan. And both pieces likely have less value than a gold from Absolom. In the end, gold is only worth as much as the next guy is willing to pay for it. Same with silver. Before I came along, a man in this camp would knife you in the back for a single piece of it. "The iron bit, on the other hand, everyone around here knows how much that is worth. A bit will by you a short beer in the tavern over yonder. A few more will get you a night's stay with the Benders, and the same amount will put your horse in a stable for the same amount of time. A few more after that, and you can buy a trinket or bauble in the market down the road. You can barter for iron bits, but each bit is the same as the other, same weight, same value, intrinsically. "The exchange rate is 5 gold pieces to the bit. No negotiation. However, if you establish yourself here and don't piss off too many people, the exchange rate will likely go down over time. So how many bits do you need to start with?"
"I suppose you could say that, but a lot of people take care of their own justice before they come to see me. I also take care of the currency in this area, and in that I have a more...direct say, if you will."
As you walk towards the Usurer's shack, you see the dead (?) man hanging from the rafter scratching his beard absentmindedly before returning to his original position. The place before you looks well-built, at least in comparison to the rest of the Camp. It is a simple plank structure, with a stone chimney and double-sliding doors on the left side (which you can see as you walk towards the place). The front door faces the common area, and the hanging beam. A sign above this door shows a grey coin and an anvil. The man you see standing over the anvil outside is a tall, lean man. He appears to be an older human guy, with a hooked nose. His arms are a bit ropy from likely years of blacksmith work. He is working on some nails and you see a horseshoe off to the side, still cooling, a dull reddish glow. He smiles at you as you approach, and you see that he has a great many teeth, all perfectly straight. "How can I help you new folks today?" |