I hope this letter finds you well--I wasn't sure you'd be interested in hearing from me again. I didn't get the chance to properly thank you for saving me back in that derro hole, and considering how chummy you are with the Guard I wasn't sure you'd accept this.
The whole derro thing has convinced me to stick with my day job. Nash was quite willing to tell the Cerulean Society how much of a washout I am--well, that's the way HE said it. All I heard was 'You won't have to perform dangerous thieving jobs that could result in you being experimented on by mad mages and his cronies anymore! Hooray for you!'
Anyway, I wanted you to have this. It's a wand I was able to nick from Rolth's home before he caught us.
Please don't ask how I was able to keep it.
Sincerely,
Tiora Bluetide
Detect Magic & DC 18 Spellcraft:
The wand is a wand of cure moderate wounds. You estimate it has about 34 charges left.
Tiora shakes her head. "I doubt it, in Rolth's case--it takes someone really nasty to get kicked out of a magic academy that teaches students the basics of devil summoning and binding. Rolth's dangerous and smart."
Nash sighs and speaks up, his tone resigned. "We weren't able to accomplish much, but I did overhear some things about the derro here--specifically, the one that calls himself 'Vreeg'." He begins pacing. "Apparently, this Vreeg is Rolth's apprentice, and he's almost as dangerous as his master--he's fond of summoning lots of undead to support himself in a fight. He's no slouch with spellcasting either--he's fond of flying out of reach of melee combatants and raining hell down on them from a distance."
Tiora pales. "...I only met him once before the job--he was a customer. His name's Rolth." She shivers. "He was an Acadamae student, but he got expelled... apparently, he was caught butchering vagrants and small animals for golem parts."
"What?" The monocled man nearly drops his monocle in surprise. His valet says nothing, but his eyes narrow slightly.
"Yeah... from what the Society was able to learn, the Acadamae didn't want to cause a scene and press charges, so they quietly kicked him out and tried to forget the whole affair." Tiora shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.
While Demitri, Ortik & Lyla are conversing with the others, the two women approach Karri & Nalun. "Listen--not that we're not grateful that you freed us, but we don't have time to stand around if the derros' boss comes back. Do you have a way to get us out of here?"
Am I correct in assuming that there's six captives, DM? I'll be marking off a charge of the wand for each of them.
Yep.
Karri Chouk wrote:
"That's all well and good. But how did you get here?"
The question makes Tiora sigh and Nash fold his arms and huff.
"See, to officially gain membership into the Cerulean Society, I had to successfully plan and execute a break-and-enter job with a supervising ranking member." Tiora scratches her head. "I picked a house in the Heights--didn't think it was going to be a difficult job."
"Tiora--" Nash tries to cut her off.
"Shut up, Nash. For all we know, they left us for dead." It's clear Tiora will have none of it. "Anyway, the owner caught us and incapacitated us with his magic--all he did was touch the two of us, and it left us paralyzed."
"He gloated like the prick that he was, and shocked us into unconsciousness. I came to first, being dragged through the streets in the dead of night by a bunch of giggling derro."
Tiora looks back at Demitri. "The Cerulean Society. The only licensed thieving guild in Korvosa. I was a prospective trainee." Her blonde companion, Nash, rolls his eyes.
"And Nash and I work as goldsmiths for our day jobs, incidentally. Your friends know me--we did some business some time ago."
The two women (blonde and brunette) appear to be local toughs, possibly for one of Korvosa's gangs. They don't appear to be displaying any affiliation that you recognize.
The monocled man and his cellmate are, respectively, Hunnigan Bartlett and his valet Rossfield. Mr. Bartlett owns a magical curiosity shop in the South Shore district of Korvosa--it's not the most popular shop there, but it maintains a devoted clientele. Rossfield has the bearing of an old soldier--if you had to guess, you'd say he's an ex-guardsman or Sable Company man.
The prisoners gratefully accept the party's assistance in getting out of their prison pits. The two women in particular seem especially grateful.
Tiora freezes as Lyla asks her question. "Um... uh, well... you could say that, I guess..." She trails off and stares at her feet, her cheeks turning red from embarrassment.
"Oh, who am I kidding? Yes, I have." She motions to her tattered uniform. "I was trying to get accepted into the Society, and it failed spectacularly. See, we were trying to rob--"
"Tiora, if you say one more word about this, I'm gonna be forced to deck you out of principle." Her blond companion glares at her.
"Nash, shut UP!" She fires back, giving him an indignant look.
The lady opens her mouth to speak again, but is cut off by the blonde man beside her. "Here's a better question--is that important right now?"
"The derro got us." Says a rough contralto voice from the western pit. "At least, that's my story. Don't know about the rest of them."
The other occupants of the pits are: 2 grey-haired men, one with a monocle, and both clad in stained, filthy rags; 2 women, one blonde and one brunette, both of whom are clad in bloodied rags and are looking very much worse for wear; and the two cerulean-clad people in the eastern pit.
"Some of us are." The cerulean-clad lady says, her face brightening. "We're dirty, tired and hungry, but otherwise..."
"Oh, speak for yourself." A high-pitched male voice says from the southernmost pit. "I've caught myself a dreadful cold from these confounded tunnels! I say, good sir? Could you perhaps make haste with the rope?"
Lyla is able to stabilize 'Cabbagehead' without much difficulty.
Demitri
The tunnel you venture down branches off to the north and south--the voice pleading for help is coming from a reeking cavern to the south.
This foul-smelling cavern is bordered on three sides by ten-foot-deep pits. It is from these pits that the rancid smell of excrement and decay fills the air—each pit contains a few heaps of moldy straw, a wooden trough of filthy water, a few rotting body parts, and a couple still living prisoners.
Peeking into one of the pits, you can see the source of the voice--a ragged-looking lady clad in a tattered cerulean uniform. Her brown hair is stringy and disheveled. Next to her is a surly-looking man with blonde hair, clad in an identical cerulean uniform.
The lady's eyes widen as she sees Demitri. "Oh, thank heavens--please! Help us!"
Shopping Group "Deal. 120 Crowns it is then." Tiora says, almost too quickly. It's obvious her nerves are rattled, if not outright gone. The mention of the Cerulean Society appears to be what really did it.
She snatches up all the gold ingots you're willing to part with. You notice her hands are shaking as she does so.
12 by 120 = 1440 gp. Not bad.
"Now, I trust that will be all?" She asks, a bead of sweat starting to form on her brow.
Tiora lays a hand on the ingot before Ortik can take it back.
*Ahem* "Perhaps you didn't hear me, sir. I said I'm offering 100 Crowns per gold ingot. And from the look in your eye, you're not inclined to make the walk to Nash's anyway." She looks Ortik in the eye.
"Besides, when have I EVER thought you were a common thief?"
Shopping Group
Tiora flinches at the mention of Nash.
"Of course not. Far be it from HIM to get the better end of a deal, eh?" She chuckles nervously while dismissively waving a hand.
GM Rolls:
Bluff:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
DC 11 Sense Motive:
She's trying to maintain her composure regarding Nash. You get the impression that there's more to their rivalry than business.
"*ahem* But enough about Nash and his sub-standard workmanship. I'm prepared to offer 100 gold pieces per gold brick you have. I'll wager Nash couldn't beat that on his best day!" She puffs up her chest, trying to adopt a prideful posture.
It comes across as being more comical than professional.
Shopping Group
Tiora listens to Lyla's spiel, inspecting the Chelish gold brick closely as she continues.
The mention of putting Nash's Gold Finishing out of business causes her to chuckle. "Well, when you put it THAT way..." She sets the brick down. "May I ask what your benefactors want made from these?" A nervous look appears on her face.
Shopping Group
The lady sighs in relief when Lyla replies.
"Oh... you're not one of them."
She straightens up and offers you a smile. "Welcome to Bluetide Gold Concerns!. I'm Tiora Bluetide, owner & operator of this shop. These necklaces here?" She points to the necklaces behind her. "I made them all myself. How may I help you today?"
Shopping Group
Your group leaves Rosie's, the owner waving pleasantly as you leave.
The walk to Bluetide Gold Concerns is crowded as it usually is in North Point. Shoppers wander about The Dock Trade, buying, selling, and occasionally getting robbed on deals. You find the goldsmith without much of a problem.
The shop itself is plain enough on the outside, aside from a window showing the interior of the shop. A bell rings as you walk in, and a lovely young brunette with her hair in a ponytail and clad in a violet dress walks out to the counter. The wall behind her is lined with many necklaces and rings, all crafted from gold.
Her eyes widen as she sees Ortik's and Lyla's clothes. Specifically, their color.
"Um... 'two by two, clothes of blue?'" She asks. Her hands are wringing slightly.
DC 20 Knowledge (Local):
What she just said sounds like a passphrase of some sort. Specifically, one related to the Cerulean Society.
