Duke Pwyll Greatshout of Daggerford and his entire household were murdered scant months ago. Daggerford has changed greatly over the winter, as the various guild leaders rushed to fill in the power void when the Duke and his family died.
Eventually, it was decided that Daggerford would adopt a system of government like Waterdeep's, with various hidden lords and one open Governor-Mayor as the open face of the town.
Months ago, Lanod Onabar of Ireabor arrived in town and became a trusted advisor to Duke Pwyll, and in these troubled times, the faceless council that has formed to rule the town has chosen him as the titular head of the settlement.
Around the same time that Lanod Onabar was ingratiating himself to Duke Pwyll, a mysterious woman named Zalamandra came to town with a traveling freak show and managed to buy the River Shinning Inn from the Delimbyr family of Daggerford. Since this time, Daggerford has become a stranger, darker place.
Bardolph Buckwallow:
Spoiler:
For years you have been doing odd jobs around town, often jobs that required the Art to accomplish. You've never been regarded as a mage of power, but never have you been hung with the title of "lackspell" either.
Still, your demeanor and love of drink has led you to a few run ins with those in town, and Sheriff Cubbin (a former adventuring companion of Lord Mayor Lanod Onabar) had you thrown into the gaol one night last tenday due to a sharp comment you had for him while the two of you were drinking in the same tavern.
You haven't been mistreated, but you are horribly bored and indignant about being detained. But this day, a mysterious halfling has shown up and has said that your fines have been paid, though all you have to your name is your sword and your spellbook, as well as the clothes on your back.
The halfling drags you on with a few others that he has gathered ot meet with his mysterious employer.
Burik Stonefist:
Spoiler:
Moradin has seen fit to lead you to Daggerford in order to spread his message! Unfortunately, he also saw fit to land you in Zalamandra's Emporium, and you clearly saw various dwarves in a dire state of iniquity, and thus you were moved to speak out.
Unfortunately, the foolish guards at the Emporium were not understanding of your preaching to the flock, of your proclamation that the dwarves in this place were polluting the pure ore that Moradin had forged them from.
The guards drug you to Sheriff Cubbin, and locked you in the gaol, but before you could ponder how to convince the local authorities of your right to minister to the Soulforger's children, a strange halfling arrived and told you that your fine had been paid, but the only possession that you have is your holy symbol and the clothes on your back.
The halfling leads you on to your mysterious meeting.
Taranis Govannon:
Spoiler:
You originally hail from Amphail, a small village known for its horse breeding and the home of the country estates of various Waterdeep nobles.
You felt you were called to Lathander at a young age, but when you presented yourself to the Order of the Aster in Waterdeep, you had a difficult time fitting in.
Eventually you traveled on from Waterdeep, leaving the strict, hidebound members of the Order behind to find out how Lathander wishes you to serve as his champion.
You were beset by bandits outside of Daggerford, and robbed of all of your belonging, save your holy symbol, and you were nursed back to health by Liam Sunmist of Lathander's temple in Daggerford.
As you were about to get back on your feet, a strange halfling approaches you and tells you that his employer has heard that there is a paladin in town that has fallen on hard times, and that he could use such a man. The halfling leads you away to the mysterious employer.
Rolem Longblade:
Spoiler:
You were surprised to hear, in your travels, that Waterdeep has no thieves' guild, since you are sure you worked for one. But then again, you were never privy to the mysteries of Ludo's bosses, except to hear the term "Xanathar" from time to time.
While you were certain you were going to turn over a new leaf in Daggerford, you ran into a mysterious elven woman that seemed to take a close interest in you, and much to your surprise, she turned you over for having ties to the underworld in Waterdeep.
Before you could think of anything to clear yourself, a strange halfling arrived in your cell, saying that you were cleared of any wrongdoing, but that your possessions were unfortunately "appropriated" by Sheriff Cubbin to pay for your room and board.
Still, you have your freedom, and according to this halfling, if you follow him, you have a job as well.
Hamfast Chubbukkit:
Spoiler:
Daggerford has a few interesting tombs and ruins near it, so you thought that it might be easy to latch onto an adventuring party to make a few quick gold pieces. While this may have been true, this didn't take into account that there might be some rough elements in the town as well.
One night, a rather large half orc seemed to take a dislike to your music, and when you woke up, you were rather cold and in a ditch. Thankfully, you were nursed back to health by a local that happened upon you.
After you were up and around, he gave you four notes and a sack of gold, which he also warned you was enchanted to make your fingers rot if you touched them to do anything but pay for the expenses of the party you were gathering, and told you to bring the people mentioned on the notes back to his house once you had gathered them, and that he has a job for all of them.
Now that Hamfast has gathered all of you up, you are on your way to Delfen "Yellowknife," a well respected local mage. You haven't had a chance to do much other than gather your things and catch up with the halfling (and Hamfast hasn't had much time to do much but gather the others), so on the way to Delfen's home, you can, of course, speak with one another.
"That there Sheriff needs a serious attitude adjustment. A simple, kindly priest cannot preach to his own flock here!"
Here Burik is, wondering what to do with the Sheriff, as he is the law, but isn't at all kind in his practice. Burik is wondering where this halfling is leading him, although he is happy that he is out of the gaol.
"where are we going, little friend?"
Glancing at the group around him.
"Apparently we're all being led to this wizard. We might as well know who we all are. Ahm Burik Stonefist, Priest of Moradin and late of Secomber."
Description of Burik for everyone: A tall dwarf (hah!) standing at 4'5". His beard is shortly trimmed to his face, identically to the avatar. He's wearing a simple grey with red embroidered hemming Tunic, a matching cloak, black breeches, soft leather boots, and openly wearing the holy symbol of Moradin.
(In a sneering mumble)
Hmph. Yellowfin, eh... I'd be better off rotting in that shameful excuse for a gaol. Hear ye, hear ye... bah. Ye haven't heard the half of it yet, for that I'm sure. (scratches chin, continues mumbling)... This poor excuse for a mage can't have anything important... Should be safely back at the shop by now. (mumbling gibberish)
You see a gruff, wild-eyed man in his mid-thirties with unkempt black hair and a humorous, out-of-style mustache. He is of average height and is of medium build, except for a pronounced gut. He wears a dirty robe which was probably worth something before it became covered in grease, grime, and various unidentifiables, with a thick, oil-spotted leather smock over it. He reeks of cheap alcohol, and he is still visibly somewhat drunk. He carries a thick book with rope bindings which has torn pages falling out, and a shortsword with a bronze-colored hilt wrapped in black leather sits in a sheath hanging from his tattered canvas belt.
For the DM:
Spoiler:
Knowledge: Local, roll:16, mod:24 on Yellowknife
Knowledge: Local, roll:9, mod:17 on Pwyll & his family, the murders etc.
Knowledge: Local, roll:2, mod:10 on Lanod and Salamandra.
"That there Sheriff needs a serious attitude adjustment. A simple, kindly priest cannot preach to his own flock here!"
Rolem quietly says with a slight scowl on his face, "What that Sheriff needs is a knife between the ribs." He surveys the group of misfits he's traveling with and sighs. "My name is Rolem."
Rolem looks as though he has only recently been reintroduced to civilization. He looks to be in his early to mid twenties. He's dirty, gaunt, unshaven, but he still looks in good health and quick on his feet. He is wearing no armor or arms, just a pair of padded cloth trousers, the kind you might find someone wearing under armor, and a torn black tunic.
For the DM:
Spoiler:
Oops! I totally forgot about the lack of theives guilds in Waterdeep. I think I will change my bio to make it a little more specific to the town. If you have any suggestions or objections let me know!
You see a Halfling portraying an aura of confidence (or is it cockiness), appearing to be in his mid-twenties, standing about three feet tall with slightly ruddy skin, fair ruffled hair, and blue eyes (which is somewhat uncommon for the typical brown haired black eyed Halflings). Although, this one does have the characteristicly long sideburns. His bedraggled raiment includes a red cloak with elaborate threading, tailored shirt, green and blue stripped britches, and exquisite necklaces all of which appear to be from an older generation. Judging from the current condition of his attire, however; the Halfling looks as though he recently could have been involved in a scuffle.
In an apparent attempt to subdue the group's mumblings and grumblings, the interim Halfling leader pulls out (from the perspective of a medium-sized creature) a miniature wargong from the inside of his cloak and strikes it with a mallet.
The Halfling joyfully recites, "Here, Here fellow adventurers. If you are of like mind for adventuring, let us quell this petty grumbling and continue on to the local mage for the hope of treasure and chance for fame!" Bowing respectfully the Halfling concludes, "Hamfast Chubbukkit at your service."
Knowledge (Local) Skill Check :: 19 + 3 = 22
For the DM:
Spoiler:
Hamfast would like to gather some local information regarding Delfen "Yellowknife" and what current event(s) or problems in town would warrant the services of an adventuring group. Also, the name and whereabouts of the troublesome Half-Orc that assaulted me? Let me know if you need a second knowledge check roll for information on the Half-Orc.
"Yes, well, I am named Taranis, a paladin of Lathander. I think it should be interesting to see what exactly this mage needs with this particular band of...interesting folks."
He is a tall man with a strong build. He carries himself well and his eyes have a tendency to wander. It's hard to tell if it's out of distraction or jitters. His clothes are simple robes from the local temple of Lathander and he doesn't seem to be carrying anything other than his holy symbol
Taranis will look over the other members of the group warily. While not overtly paranoid, he's not sure how far he's going to be able to trust them.
For the DM:
Spoiler:
I am going to want to find out where this guy heard that I'm a paladin. Not sure which skill to get started on that, but I'm on the lookout for people that I recognize or who would be able to identify me.
Your knowledge of Delfin "Yellowknife" Ondabar is that he is well respected in the city, and his tower is part of the north wall of the defenses. Until recently he took on three or four apprentices a season, but the last few months he has failed to do so. He is a retired adventurer that has amassed a sizable amount of gold and magic.
What you know about Duke Pwyll and his family is that there are rumors of poison, and that one of the members of the mining guild was implicated in the murder, though nothing formal was ever announced regarding this, and he's not been seen since the event. Duke Pwyll, his sister, a wizard who is rumored to have ties to the Harpers, and his illegitimate brother were all mourned when the Duke's death was announced.
You know very little about Zalamandria and Lanod Ondabar, other than their names and the fact that they are both recent immigrants to the region, and that Zalamandria apparently aquired her freak show shortly before arriving in town to buy the River Shinning.
Your knowledge of Delfin "Yellowknife" Ondabar is that he is well respected in the city, and his tower is part of the north wall of the defenses. Until recently he took on three or four apprentices a season, but the last few months he has failed to do so. He is a retired adventurer that has amassed a sizable amount of gold and magic.
You also know that Delfin is considered a staunch defender of the town and has risked himself fighting alongside the town's militia, and that in his youth he was known as a competent knife fighter, and his monkiker is from his golden dagger that he has carried with him for years.
You may be able to ask around and "gather information" using a diplomacy check to see how well known you might be, but you would need an hour or two to check in with the locals and feel people out.
Rolem sends a doubtful glare towards the strange hobbit
"Well Mr. Bukkit, while some here may be willing to march along in happy ignorance, I have a few questions. Was it you or this mage that negotiated my release? If it was you, for what purpose." His glare suddenly increases in size and ferocity. "I would have found a way out on my own in time so do not believe for a moment I am beholden to you!" It seems as though he is straining to maintain his composure. He takes a deep breath and he seems to physically relax. His voice is a bit calmer as he continues. "If it was this fellow we are to meet, what do you know of him? He better pay in advance, as I have no proper equipment to. . . perform my trade."
"Well said Rolem. Who, exactly is this mage that has us beholden to him? And that sheriff did one horrible act of thievery upon both of us, it seems Rolem. I've not even a hammer for the faith! Up-front payment, indeed!"
Burik is sizing up Rolem, seeing him as a man quick to anger and able bodied.
"And where, exactly does everyone else hail from?"
Glancing Bardolph's way
"Even moreso, why would a mage of any sense want to deal with this 'merry band of misfits' that he seems to be collecting? Mr. Chubbukkit, I do hope you have some answers for us. I fear that you may suffer Moradin's wrath if'n you don't get some answers real quick."
While on the way to their destination, Taranis makes sure to position himself somewhere either near the front. After seeing the demeanor of some of the other members of the group, he makes sure to try to be somewhere in between the halfling and Rolem and Burik.
Looking to Rolem "I think it's pretty safe to assume that none of us owe any of the others anything at this point. I also agree that I would like to know more of this mage and having some idea of what he is going to be asking of us would be nice as well. Maybe if you," He turns to the halfling, "could give us something more than a name, we could feel more at ease at going to meet this man."
"And where, exactly does everyone else hail from?"
Glancing Bardolph's way
"Even moreso, why would a mage of any sense want to deal with this 'merry band of misfits' that he seems to be collecting? Mr. Chubbukkit, I do hope you have some answers for us. I fear that you may suffer Moradin's wrath if'n you don't get some answers real quick."
Ha! As for me, I'm a well-respected citizen of this dump-hole masquerading as a city. If you want to know the motivations of haughty magelings with more money than sense, you might as well look for them in the garderobe!
Bardolph chuckles at his inept attempt at humor.
to all: Don't worry your little heads, strangers--I've got my spellbook and my blade, and half a mind to use them should this "employer", or any of you lot for that matter, have ill intent!
Bardolph attempts to posture intimidatingly, squinting through one eye at his companions, but his state of moderate intoxication and generally feckless appearance conspire to make the proposition rather humorous: 4-1 = 3.
Here is my second Knowledge (Local) Skill Check for information on the troublesome orc :: 17 + 3 = 20. Also, I'm using the following website for the random dice rolls (http://www.penpaperpixel.org/tools/d20dicebag.htm). Finally, how much gold is included in the sack (for dispensing amongst the group)?
With a cordial turn to face the ragtag group of adventurers and a quick mallet strike on the wargong, Hamfast replies, "I can not say for certain as to who bartered for your release, although I do have my presumptions, but it surely was not I. For I was just recently involved in ... um, shall we say ... a rather painful performance."
Looking upwards to Rolem, "if it is information you desire, then I have the intelligence and charisma you so obviously lack, to answer these most pressing questions." *GULP* A look of consternation overtakes the halfing as he second guesses the correctness of his last insult.
"Ahem, my uncanny knack for gathering information has uncovered the following, Delfin "Yellowknife" Ondabar is a well respected mage, and his tower is part of the north wall of the city's defenses. Until recently, he took on three or four apprentices a season, but the last few months he has failed to do so. He is a retired adventurer that has amassed a sizable amount of gold and magic. "Yellowknife" is considered a staunch defender of the town and has risked himself fighting alongside the town's militia, and that in his youth he was known as a competent knife fighter. His monikker is from his golden dagger that he has carried with him for years."
Directing his gaze towards the stout dwarf, Hamfast continues,"As for equipping a new hammer for the faith my stout friend, i have been given a small stipend to help equip an adventuring party ..., (cringing slightly at the surrounding group) but before you assault me for withholding these funds, please allow me to explain. It was my humble opinion to withhold knowledge of these funds until a proper band of adventurers was found. Being that I am surrounded by the most reputable and worthy of a group, I feel it is now safe to put these funds to good use. But let us hurry on to Delfin for a more proper explanation of our task."
In the hopes of pleasing his newfound comrades, Hamfast gently taps his wargong looking for signs of acceptance.
Your check on the half-orc lets you know that his name is Kullen, and that its rumored that he is an enforce for one of the local Mining Guild members, and as such, the local law enforcement might turn a blind eye to his activities from time to time if he is "paid up."
Your check on Duke Pwyll's death turns up the following, from various local rumors:
What you know about Duke Pwyll and his family is that there are rumors of poison, and that one of the members of the mining guild was implicated in the murder, though nothing formal was ever announced regarding this, and he's not been seen since the event. Duke Pwyll, his sister, a wizard who is rumored to have ties to the Harpers, and his illegitimate brother were all mourned when the Duke's death was announced.
Your appraise check has allowed you to guess that there is about 600 gold pieces left in the sack that you have been carrying . . . of course, you have no idea what might trigger the curse that Delfin intimated when you were given the sack.
Pausing only temporarily to look questioningly at Bardolph's attempt at intimidation, Rolem's glare continues to focus on the halfling
"Well, perhaps later I shall have to demonstrate what 'qualities' I do have at some later hour."
He murmurs quietly to Hamfast with a slight smile. "I have ways of gathering information as well that don't require as much noise, at least not from myself."
He continues for everyone to hear. "For now, I suggest we see what this wizard wants with us."
Hamfast does a quick calculation in his head and comes to the following conclusions. With being the interim leader, Hamfast has decided to procure an extra portion of the gold for himself in order to ensure the proper spending of funds on beneficial items for the group. Moreover, in keeping with the wizard's warning, Hamfast assures himself that these extra funds will be used solely for the benefit of the group; which of course includes the upgrading of the bard's weapons and armour. Therefore, he should theoretically exclude himself from any undesirable enchantments that might have been placed on the sack. At an opportune time, Hamfast delicately slips his hand in the sack of gold ...
"Well respected citizen indeed. Ah'll wager what's left of mah beard that twas this 'respectable hero' that got all of us into trouble. As to you, little one"
Glaring at Mr. Bucket
"You have neither entrusted yourself to me, nor do you seem as gullible as you sound. Ah'll listen to the mage, but dinnae expect me to believe his motives are genuine."
For the DM
Spoiler:
Burik really has no reason to trust the Halfling, as he thinks this whole thing is a setup. He'll keep an eye on him until he's proven his worth. As to Rolem... He seems a bit of a menacing type, given the posture and way he was talking with the halfling. He's one to watch as well. The paladin is one level-headed fellow, and he seems to be a calming factor for the obvious strain between party members. Burik thinks the "party wizard" is a drunken lout, and will likeley be worthless in a fight.
FWIW, at this point, Burik is ready to enter the tower.
"While I can understand why the mention of money with complete strangers didn't come up right away, especially considering the 'arrangements' brought about to get some of them here, I think we should listen to the mage first, then decide what to do. I'm also in complete agreement with our stout companion here that we should take anything said at our meeting with a mage with a grain of salt."
Turning to Bardolph, "no offense meant, but mages do have a tendency to be cryptic and mildly self-centered."
Hm, you'll come to regret that--I always take offense at that kind of talk. Luckily for you, the list of persons and parties who I intend to have my vengeance upon and demand my satisfaction from is several years long. Don't think I'll forget it, though!
Bardolph makes the face shown in the avatar picture. It's one of the least scary things you've ever seen.
As you reach for the door, ready to meet your prospective employer and apparent benefactor, all of you notice that Hamfast glances sidelong at his vest for a moment, and appears to be lightly tugging on something.
A moment later you see a small leather purse hit the ground, making the unmistakable sound of clinking coins, as a few gold coins fall from Hamfast's hand.
For Hamfast:
Spoiler:
DC for palming an "unattended item" = 10. Unfortunately Hamfast failed in his ability to palm the gold pieces in the sack.
Hamfast hastily picks up the dropped coins and leather purse. With an embarrassed look on his face he explains, "Ummm, ... Pardon me fellow travelers ... For I have this incessant desire to flip gold coins between my wee fingers. See!" As he awkwardly juggles two coins between his tiny fingers. With a nervous chuckle he continues, "Heh, Heh, Old habits seem to die hard, eh?
Hamfast quickly stuffs the coins back into the purse and ties the purse to the outside of his cloak (hoping this will subdue any ill will caused by his most recent folly) for all party members to keep an eye on.
He quickly reaches for the tower door, in the hopes of continuing this adventure without any further delay
Glaring strongly at the Hamfast
"Well, Mister Bucket, it seems that you wish to spare a few coins from the stipend for yourself. If that be the case, I believe someone MORE trustworthy should be in charge of dividing evenly, perhaps myself, or the follower of Lathander, here."
To everyone else, Mr. Bucket excluded
"What say everyone else?"
Well, Byoo-rick, is it? I can't say I trust dwarves on matters of of gold any more than our 'hin' friend over there. Be that as it may, in my dealings with your people, I've never been outright cheated--you dwarves seem to prefer haggling ad nauseam until things turn in your favor. Take charge of our finances if you must, I care little. I'm currently more curious about what sort of offer 'Yellowtail' has in store for us.
Though nobody thought Rolem's glare could grow anymore in severity, the gods apparently imbue him with some holy power to make it possible. He reaches for his belt grasping at a blade that is not there. In confusion his attention is drawn to his sorry state of readiness and he sighs.
To Bardolph
"Ah understand yer thoughts towards my kin and our bartering abilities,"
pointing at Hamfast
"however he has attemted to steal from all of us. We dwarves, although reserved with our trade practices, never take from another what is rightfully theirs, and all deals are done fairly to all sides of the agreement. All y'alls know that. If'n this'd happened in a dwarven city, Mr. Chubbukkit would be in a heap 'o' trouble."
In response to Rolem, directed to Taranis
"What say you Lathanderite?"
"Ah'll be checkin' with our employer to see how much this stipend raelly was. Yer an ornery little one, ain't chya? We ain't got no other problems now, do we Mr. Chubbukkit?"
to all
"Well, ah believe that we can talk to the wizard now. Although ah'm uh-gonna be talkin' to 'im about his choice in messengers now. All y'all's ready now?"
"I think maybe passing the stipend onto someone who has less 'twitchy' fingers might be a good idea. I would think Burik's a good a choice as any for handling the money for now."
To Hamfast "and maybe you should be more careful. Stealing from strangers, especially some that are already salty and a mite jumpy, can be a very dangerous proposition."
As Hamfast is handing the leather purse to Burik, the door to the tower opens. In the doorway you see a man, perhaps in his late thirties, somewhat shorter than average, with a round belly and a long brown beard.
He grins at you all, and makes a gesture, saying, "Well, this has caused a bit of contention so far, so let's just take this away for the moment."
An invisible force seizes the purse, and it flies back toward the man standing in the doorway.
"Come on into my study. My name is Delfen Ondabar, and I have arranged for all of you to be here this day because you have . . . both unique talents and circumstances."
He is wearing simple but well made robes, and at his belt you see a golden dagger tucked to the side.
In the study, Delfen points to a cart with various beverages and makes an inviting gesture.
"Feel free to take your refreshments," Delfen tells you.
"I cut right to the chase. My brother is Lanod Ondabar, the newly appointed leader of this town. Quite frankly, I'm worried about him and the potential trouble he may have gotten himself into."
"Lanod was chosen to run the city by the new council, but I fear this was done to set him up for a fall by those responsible for the deaths of Duke Pwyll and his family. Its not great secret that Balabar Smenk and Derwin Ironeater managed to take any representative of the mining guild out of the running with their infighting. Derwin's brother was quite upset by that turn of events."
"At any rate, I've been very wary of the newcomers to town, and how they might have been involved with any of these strange events. I know this may sound strange coming from a man that settled here from Ireabor, but I consider this place my home now, and I must admit I'm protective of my brother as well, who indeed has more ambition than good sense."
"I would like you, as uniquely . . . talented individuals, to ask around, find out if anything is in the offing in the less savory parts of town. In particular, I know an adventuring company has come to town speaking of how they are exploring the Forlorn Hills looking at ancient Shoon Imperium ruins."
"I'd like you to find out what you can about these adventurers, or anything else strange going on, and report these things back to me. In addition to the gold I spent on all of your . . . hardships . . . I'm willing to give each of you 250 gold to look into these matters for me."
At the mere offering of gold, Hamfast springs up and speaks, "Why certainly Mr. Mage Ondabar, Sir! My skills in gathering information are second to none."
More for his own enjoyment than the others, Hamfast pulls out his wargong and taps a merry ditty before turning to his comrades, "What say you my new found friends? For fortune and glory!"
"Ah believe what yer in need of, beyond choosing poor messengers"
Pointing a dubious finger at Hamfast
"is the services of proper law enforcement. Since Ah see that this here town's got no proper law enforcement, knowin' that there sheriff, you need our 'services.' And Mr. Chubbukkit has one thing goin' fer him, he can gather things. Mostly things that don't rightly belong to 'im. If'n he can find folks as well as he can appropriate, ah believe he can find yer information.
Ah've but two questions fer ya. First, did I hear you right sayin' that you paid fer our hardships? If'n that's the case, Ah'll be takin' my leave of you right now. If'n you mean you paid mah fine, ah'll be happy to repay you with Moradin's blessin.
Second, providin' the first one's a no, is how do you expect us to trust you bein's that this here town is already in a heap o trouble? You said it fer yerself, there's ornery varmints out there that want to see yer brother fail. Why not just look in on 'em yerself usin' yer magic? If'n this might require some brute force, well, ah think we gots that covered.
directed at Hamfast
Now you, sir, need to remember it's not good to go a larking along, ah have the mind to throttle you fer what you did. If'n you can prove to me you ain't just some uppity varmint in need of a good whuppin,' ah'll be alright with watchin' yer back. If'n yer as good at gatherin' up words as you are takin' coin, ah'll be surprised if'n we don't see that lazy sheriff again. Just take care, little one, that's all ah'm sayin.
for everyone
Spoiler:
Okay, seriously, having out a Southern Slang dictionary as I post and putting this all together was a lot of fun. I know, no bearing on the game, but I just wanted to say that this has been a lot of fun trying to word everything in a distinctly NOT-Norse/Celtic/Scottish tone so far. If anyone's wants me to tone it down a little, just fire me an email.
For the DM
Spoiler:
Burik really doesn't trust the mage, so he's paying special attention to the whole conversation.
Sense Motive D20: 14 + 7 = 21.
Now, when he asks about the "payment for hardships" he's paying even more attention:
Sense Motive D20: 19 + 7 = 26 if the second roll is needed.
"Saer Stonefist, what I mean is that I put out good coin to make my brother's unsavory friend Cubbin forget that he knew any of you, in most cases," Delfen says, with a slight irritated tone in his voice.
"Each of you has unique talents, but the one talent all of you seem to share is that of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This, thank Tymora, is also useful to me, as it makes all of you seem much less likely to be agents of note working for anyone."
"Before any of you take offense at that, think about where you were twelve bells ago, and then tell me that you all couldn't use a reprieve from Beshaba's glare."
For Burik:
Spoiler:
You don't sense any duplicity on Delfen's part when he is speaking.
Tanaris walks over to the refreshment cart and pours himself a small glass of water as he watches the dwarf 'negotiate' with the mage
"I think you might misunderstand the tone of our friend here. I'm sure he didn't mean for his frankness to be of any offense to you, but there are some interesting points he brought up.
"Besides his obvious distaste for the sheriff here in Daggerford, I'm inclined to lean in his favor as to our ability to put our trust in you. As noble as your position is, watching out for your brother and all, I really don't think that it would be overstepping our bounds to ask for a show of good will.
"The money you've already mentioned should be enough incentive for us to go looking into things, and I'm assuming that we'll have access to that coin since it seems I'm not the only one who has hit upon some hard times. However, I'm thinking there are other little expenses that, if they were covered, could help us to focus on the investigation and keeping your brother safe.
"If you have the resources available to make sure that we have lodgings and meals while here in Daggerford, I think it'd be safe to say that we would not only be more inclined to help you, but also stay focused on our task and get distracted with menial details."
He sips the water and sits in one of the nearby chairs. His tone is light and friendly, but he is also intently watching Delfen for a reaction to his proposal.
For the DM:
Spoiler:
Diplomacy 12 + 6 = 18. Don't know if I need that or not, but thought you might like it. Basically, he wants the 250 up front and for Delfen to pay for them to have somewhere to stay and have meals taken care of.
Rolem heads to the drink table and attempts to find the most expensive thing possible. After filling a glass to the brim, he takes the seat nearest to him and stretches out.
"Who are these Smenk and Ironeater fellows? Would this Derwin's brother have been a logical choice for the open lord if it hadn't been your brother?"
Rolem continues his questioning.
"If you have any thoughts on who might want yer brother dead, it would help us in our questioning."
Rolem appears to the group to be more relaxed than you have seen him yet, downing his drink.
For the DM:
Spoiler:
Rolem is pretty confident this is the type of work he can get behind. It uses his past skills of intimidation and "extracting" information, but for a decent cause. And the pay is pretty good. It'll cover everything he lost on the way and then some. To top it off, the liquor ain't too bad either!
Looks like you're off to a good start. I recently finished AoW with my tabletop group, and based it in Daggerford. I have a bunch of creations you might be interested in. If so, contact me on my gmail account (keith.wampuscat43), and I'll see what I can do.
Directed at Delfen
"Sir, Ah did not mean any offense. It appears that Ah riled you up good there. For what it's worth, good sir, Ah believe you. It ain't right that someone sets someone else up fer failin'.
You mentioned a Mr. Balabar Smenk and a Mr. Derwin Ironeater, what have these two got to do with anything for your brother, other 'n bein' minin' guilders. What's yer brother's relation to the miners' guild? Ah also second Mr. Rolem's question as to Mr. Ironeater's brother's capabilities.
As to the other adventurer's in town, what is it that makes you worry about them. There ain't no need to be a worry rock, now, is there?"
for the DM
Spoiler:
Attempting to alleviate the irritation here, Diplomacy roll:
D20 + Cha only (untrained): 9 + 0 = 9
"Sir Govannon, I believe that I might be able to pull some strings with Mistress Landscrapper, the owner of the Daggerford Inn, so that you have a place to rest and at least a potentially edible meal once in a while.
Its a passable place to stay, and beyond the fact that I've got a favor to call in from Demetira, it might be a bit obvious to put you up in a place that was more . . . extravagent," Delfen tells you.
"Saer Longblade, each of the guilds in the city was interested in placing their own representative in the position of Governor-Mayor, and the mining guild seemed to be in the best position to place one of their own, but Balabar Smenk decided to undercut the Ironeater brothers, and since all of them were of the mining guild, the guild fell out of favor as the most likely to nominate a leader.
Smenk thought he would be the next logical choice after cutting down on Ironeater, but the other guilds decided upon a non guild member to take the position, and hence my brother ascended to the post."
Delfen takes a drink of his wine.
"Rumor has it that Zalamandria whispered in a few ears that a neutral party might be the best to put in place."
"Saer Stonefist, as I said, my brother was working as an agent of the Duke for the last few months, and had no guild affiliation. I'm not sure that there was much contact between them, though who knows, Smenk tends to rub everyone the wrong way eventually," Delfen relates.
"As to the adventurers . . . well . . . my brother was an adventurer himself, and it seems that at least two of them have crossed blades with him in the past, and not parted on good terms. Not mortal enemies, to be certain, but definitely not the fastest of allies."
Bardolph gains his balance, and, bleary-eyed, looks at Delfen carefully, wrinkling his brows.
How are we to know, Yellow-spells, that you weren't complicit in the gruesome murder of Lord Greatshout? What token of trust have we in you that we aren't being played like pawns upon the chessboard?
in a frenzied crescendo, sneering all the while:
Perhaps... perhaps you also have other motives? If it's my priceless first edition of Malabrarvius' Musings, I'm afraid you're out of luck. You could have just come by to read it, by Oghma's grace, but you must own it yourself, mustn't you? Well, you can have it from my collection when you pry it from the burning remains of my shop, and I assure you, I've protected my collection QUITE well.
Bluff: 5-1 = 4
Why involve these others, though, Yellowscale, when what you're really after is the ancient lore at my command, hmm? Speak quickly, for my patience is short!
