The Rusty Flagon Inn

Game Master Nightfiend

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
"Greetings, Gorvina. We've returned", Wayilant said, looking far different than when the teifling last say him. "Everybody else inside?"

Sighing in relief a bit as the others finally arrive, she gestures casually to the noisy building and nods.

"Greetings good Sir and to your entourage as well. Our friends have dared to enter this building. Evidently this is the local hospital for those in need of mental care...and a Lodge? Maybe we can understand things better if we go inside. I'm sure there is a good explanation for it all. I'm unsure if the young one should enter such a place however? I've never been to one like this, but I've heard some strange rumors of such places in the past."

Once everyone arrives and is situated, Dr. Trice continues. “Unfortunately my place of business doesn’t have all the comforts as a fully dedicated inn. That said, I do have a large number of unoccupied rooms available, and my staff commonly prepare food for the morning and evening meal. You are welcome to enjoy both the rooms, as well as the meals, at your leisure of course. With consideration that you are working with Shiela, and the Pathfinder Society, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need. All I ask is that you provide me with some sort of advanced warning if your endeavors bring unwanted attention that will require additional caution on my part. After all, I have a number of occupants here that I need to consider. Aside from that, if I can be of any other help with whatever the Society has commissioned you to do, let me know.” After concluding his introduction, he moves over to his desk and pulls out a number of brandy sifters and a large bottle of brandy. “Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy a glass with me. I’m very interested in hearing about the world at large.” After poring a glass for himself, he slides the brandy across the table. A number of large, padded comfort chares sit around the fireplace along with an equal number of small round end tables that reside to the right of each chair.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23

Liotierri notices the good dr keeping a distance from him, and chooses to ignore it for the moment, Of course Doctor, he says, accepting a glass and pouring himself a healthy brandy, We've got a few things we're following here in the city, however none of them are particularly savory, so perhaps its best we find a nearby inn which can also provide the ladies and child with less anxious causing occupants. Now, if you don't mind- I would love to change into something less....smelly. And wash up briefly? I'll leave my colleagues to fill you in... he says and departs to clean himself up and change clothing.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
The remarkably better dressed cleric steps forward to shake the doctor's hand. "Hello, Doctor. And thank you. I am Wayilant Arden, cleric of Cayden Caliean, and this is my daughter, Julie. We, as you must have been told, are here on Pathfinder business. Thank you for the respite from the elements and gazes of passersby. We just need a place to gather ourselves and plan the next steps." Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29

Staying in the back of the room, Govrina tries to watch and listen to the important discussion going on close by, but the odd and disturbing sounds of the people locked up in the building keep causing her to flinch and sigh quietly. Her eyes glaze over a bit as she tries to imagine she's back home listening to one of her dad's lectures on 'perfection' and the constant striving for it...

Without hesitation, Dr. Trice calls over one of his staff, who in turn escorts Liotierri to a nearby corridor. After a short distance down the corridor, she opens the door to an adjoining room and offers its use to the inquisitor. “You are welcome to use the room for as long as you like. I will bring you hot water and a bathing tub if you like.” The young girl couldn’t me more than eighteen and is somewhat petite. Soon, she turns and heads back down the corridor.

‘Very interesting my lord. It seems you have not only mastered Ustalav’s dress standards but have also done so in a very refined way.” Trice says while taking a moment to look over the four well-dressed party members before politely diverting his gaze away. “Your choice in attire will serve you well here in Ustalav. We have more than our fair share of turned up noises here, and that's being kind. As far as your Pathfinder business, I'm at your service if you require it. I have resided here long enough to have an intimate understanding of the city and its inner workings. If I can offer any advice, please let me know. If the lodge is a bit unsuited for your taste, then you might find comfort at the Sleepy Spoon. Once you make a right on the next cross street, you will find the food-house next to a small tavern called The Golden Barrel. The establishment provides food and rooms. Being that the location is directly next to a tavern, I presume that will go a long way to satisfy the needs of a cleric devoted to Cayden Cailean.” After pouring a second glass of brandy, he sits down in one of the padded chairs. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Your college will likely be a moment tidying up."

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Liotierri follows the young woman, Thank you yes, the carriages in this city have no regard for the common passerby, a tub and some hot water would be ideal to wash away the dirt of the roads. What's your name? How do you know the Doctor? he asks politely while digging through his pack for some clean clothes.

The young girl turns in the doorway in response to Gravi's inquiry. “Oh, my apologies for being rude. My name is Emely and Dr. Trice is my dad. I help out here sometimes. People willing to work here is a bit hard to find. Anyway, I’ll be back shortly with some hot water. I suspect it will take about four trips to fill the tub and then it’s all yours.”

The cleric starts to rummage through his backpack. "Well, Flagon Slayers. Shall we stay here tonight under Dr. Trice's hospitality, or go across the street to the Golden Barrel, or the Sleepy Spoon?"

"Either way, I want to review the information we have", Wayilant says as he read various notes he pulled from his backpack.

Govrina shrugs.

”I’m not sure I would be welcome many places here. I will stay here at the Lodge. Noises won’t disturb me. Yes, we should discuss our objectives and decide where we all go from here.”

Wayilant pulls out the parchment that he copied from Shiela’s ledger.

After taking an extended look at Govrina, Dr. Trice raises a single eyebrow. “Well young lady. You are an interesting quandary to say the least. Can’t say I have seen many with your heritage around here. You might be correct with your evaluation of the locals. Ustalav is unfortunately burdened with an unfair amount of hypervigilant superstition. Understandably so, considering what this region has been through. You are wise to be cautious with your heritage. That said, you have nothing to fear while you are here in my lodge.”

I placed a spoiler tab at the top of the page for quick access to the ledger note.

Liotierri politely bows, introducing himself, Thank you Emely, I look forward to it. I am Liotierri Magravi, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I can understand how it would be challenging to find people willing to work in this place, it can be unsettling for sure. he politely says, and goes back to inventorying his gear while Emely brings up hot water for him to quickly bathe.

After a total of five trips, which included fresh linens and towels, Emely shuts the room’s door and gives Gravi some privacy. Looking through the linens, Gravi finds soap and a bottle of fragranced herbs that can be added to the bathing water. A large bathing tub, made of barrel like planks, now sits half full of hot water in the corner of the room. Small candles illuminate the area, while a small caldron warms itself over a nearby flame. The early morning light adds a refreshing feeling to the room as it penetrates around a set of closed shudders. On the opposite side of the room, a medium sized bed rests with freshly laundered bedding sitting on top of its straw filled mattress. The mattress, which is firmly packed, is lined with a thick cotton overlay that gives the bed a very inviting appearance.

Nodding at Dr. Trice's comments she replies easily and waves casually at the facility around them.

"I also wouldn't mind helping around here if you need me Doctor. One thing I'm good at is staying busy and keeping my head down. My father is an Iroran monk seeking perfection: Clean living and hard work were taught to me from an early age I'm afraid. I also have some unique 'magical talents' that could be of use, especially if there are large heavy objects you need moved around quickly."

Dr. Trice considers Govrina's offer and then replies. "OK, I'm intrigued. What kind of magical talents do you poses?"

"Doctor Trice, is there a room we could less disruptive to you, or is it acceptable for you to The Flagon Slayers to conduct our business in this greeting room?" Wayilant asks.