"I am Ulven Northman, skald and singer from the great places of ice and snow! Welcome, little man!"
"I am Ulven Northman, skald and singer from the great places of ice and snow! Welcome, little man!"
"Hey! I ain't that little. Of course next to you most men'd look small." He grins again, then looks at him curiously, "Skald eh? That's what you call Northmen calls bards isn't it? Fancied being a bard myself for a time, but while I can spin quite tale, I sadly have little talent for music."
"This kind of thing should not go unpunished", rumbles the Litorian. "What should we do, little witch?"
"This kind of thing should not go unpunished", rumbles the Litorian. "What should we do, little witch?"
"Oh, yeah, about that. He looks at them all at a loss, "You know I still don't know what exactly happened here."
Whilst you have been talking, Phon has been doing a quick search of the dead thugs body. She turns to you all, showing the items she has salvaged.
"What do you wish to do with these? I think it only fair that you take them as a reward from me."
Apart from the threadbare Studded leather armor he wore, all that is there is a greatclub, a heavy crossbow, 12 bolts, a potion of some kind and a brass double-finger ring. Moneywise he has 10 gp and 8 sp.
"I need nothing from that carrion, little one. My companions should take what they need."
"I undestand...i'm curious...what does the note say?"
"I'll take the ring." Kieran said. With his penchant for disguise and deception, such an item would likely come in very handy. "And maybe the potion once it's identified or a bit of gold, I'm not picky." The half-elf pauses, "There's a note? I know I just got here, but could someone recap what got you all to this point?"
~Num-Rah takes the note and reads it out loud~
The note you hold reads thus...Phon Quartermail. 3rd door westarn side of Crispin Street. Blak hair, yung. After:
the red wairhuse on Able row, 2 hours after dusk. Theoday.
The young rogue turns the ring over in his fingers and a wicked grin begins to form. "That gives me an idea. How much would you all like to get to the bottom of this?"
"This would make a good story! I am in for any bottom getting!"
"This would make a good story! I am in for any bottom getting!"
Kieran chuckles, "Well said, I must agree," very subtly he glances over at the female companions without drawing attention to himself. "In more way then one." He tosses the ring into the air and deftly catches it. "You see I have a talent for disguise and deception, when I so choose to use it. I believe with it I might be able to fool the contact mentioned in the note and garner us a bit more information than what we currently possess."
"If they knew you by name and address, it's not safe to just leave you. Until we get this figured out, you should stick with us."
"By the way, I'm Ilona, Ilona Ebonblade. Oh and I'll take the potion unless anyone else wants it. Given time I can probably figure out what it is."
Phon nodds. "Thank you for your concern Ilona, but if you would just escort me to Brother Thisk, over at St. Gustav's, I would be safe there."
"Nice to meet you Ilona." He claps his hands together. "Okay, I've got some stuff I need to pick up from my room at the Ghostly Minstrel for my plan to work. several or all of you can take her to the chapel, and I'll meet you there, alright?"
"Do we really want to meet up in a piss soaked alley? Besides we got stuff to drop off and get ourselves situated too. We'll take her to safety then meet you, since that's where we were headed anyway."
Kieran nods a bit, biting back a laugh. "Well I'd meant that we meet up at the chapel. But if you want to meet me at the minstrel be my be my guest. Gives me some more time to get ready." He walks backwards out the alley, then as he exits he calls. "Now be good, and don't do anything I wouldn't." He smirks in a way that suggests that it's a short list, and likely conflicts with his request to be good. Then he spins away and darts off towards the inn.
"Somehow I feel like we are swindled. I do not know why."
"Well at worst he just ran off with that guy's ring. Which could be an identifying marker or not. But I know what you mean."
She looks to Phon,"shall we?"
"Somehow I feel like we are swindled. I do not know why."
Kieran rushes to the inn, and heads to his room struck with inspiration. He quickly collects his disguise kit and sets to work, once finished in his room he heads down to the alley to make his disguise authentic. Then he slumps down outside the minstrel to wait. Certain his new friends won't see through his disguise until he interacts with them upon their arrival. Gods, but this was going to be fun.
"Ha! I like the little weaselly man. He will make for a great tale. Come! Let us get a room and some ale and wait for the time after dusk when we will strike these men for their crimes, fanged one! After we escort this woman to her church."
"Ha! I like the little weaselly man. He will make for a great tale. Come! Let us get a room and some ale and wait for the time after dusk when we will strike these men for their crimes, fanged one! After we escort this woman to her church."
"Lead on, loud one."
Kieran sat there, going over the note in his mind. The contact had been described, suggesting that neither the contact nor the thugs knew one another, he was banking on that. Of course he had an idea of how he could get around that if that wasn't the case, but it'd be easier if it was. He sat there trying to plot out the different ways the conversation would go, and what he would say in each. He was confident his ruse would work flawlessly.
~Adriana looks at everyone~ Can we PLEASE get out of the rain? ~she then looks at the young lady who was mugged~ Would you like us to escort you home?
"Yes, let us go."
"Yes, it's getting rather cold now."
With that, Phon leads you out of the alley and back across Delvers Square, heading toward St Gustavs chappel. She points out quite a well appointed inn as you move along.
"Thats the Ghostly Minstel. Tell Tellith I sent you and she might do you a deal on the bill."
You move out of Delvers Square and across Centre Steet. There, in front of you is a rather run down church devoted to Lothian. Its in need of a lick of paint and some general care and attention.
"St Gustavs. I'll be safe here"
As you approach the church the doors open and a small congregation exits after hearing a service. They all look down on their look. An elderly man, with thinning grey hair and threadbare robes spends a moment with each of them as they leave. Phon seems to want to wait until the crowd has dispersed before approaching further.
Brother Thisk eventually spots Phon and cautiously walks over towards your group. He eyes you all rather suspiciosly before turning to the young woman.
"Phon? Are you allright my child? When you did not attend prayers with Marta I feared the worse. Look at your clothes...are you sure your fine..." "Who are these people...?"
The priest glares at you all.
"Fear us not, Elder. I am Num-Rah and my blade is yours to protect you if needs be."
"I do not fear you, my tall friend; I fear what may follow you"
He seems to relax slightly.
"But where are my manners. Let us not get off on the wrong foot here. Phon is obviously comfortble in you company, so thats good enough for me. Please, come inside out of the rain. I have some bread and cheese, as well as fruit and wine; you all look hungry"
He ushers you into the church, whispering to Num-Rah as you go "And besides, you may just be able to do me a favour..."
Not one for skirting an issue Ilona cuts to the question, "Do you know anybody that would want Phon dead?"
"Yes, and why. And what would be the nature of that favor?"
"Come, I wil take you on a tour of my humble place of worship; we can talk as we walk".
He turns to Phon. "My dear, why dont you use my quarters and get yourself cleaned and refreshed?"
~Num-Rah follows the priest~
Kieran sat there, going over the note in his mind. The contact had been described, suggesting that neither the contact nor the thugs knew one another, he was banking on that. Of course he had an idea of how he could get around that if that wasn't the case, but it'd be easier if it was. He sat there trying to plot out the different ways the conversation would go, and what he would say in each. He was confident his ruse would work flawlessly.
Meanwhile...
"Ortry Gannon, you old snake; so you manged to do the business then? I take it thelittle slut is dead then...and wheres your dim wited mate?"
The speaker is a dark clothed man, with a wide brimmed hat pulled down low over his eyes. He has approached from out of the crowds moving about Delvers Square. He points at the Ghostly Minstrel inn behind you.
"It's a bit public here. Lets go to your room. I have the rest of your payment here"
Back in St Gustavs, Brother Fabitor takes you all into a side room, possibly a changing room, and bids you take a seat on some low benches.
"I believe that young Phon ay well be in trouble", he begins.
"I think she may be pregnant."
"If they wanna kill her for that I'm guessing the father's a noble."
Big Litorian looks even more stiff than usual. By the lowering of his brows it is safe to assume that he's full of rage. "What father could order the death of his child and mate?", he rumbles.
"The kind of scum that's more worried about his reputation than where he puts his d..... uhm, sorry Father."
Ulven wanders in from outside where he was admiring a statue. "Truly fanged one, this town is not only darkened by the shadow of the spire, but by the shadowed souls of those who dwell within... Holy man, who is the wretched father of this child?"
Ulven wanders in from outside where he was admiring a statue. "Truly fanged one, this town is not only darkened by the shadow of the spire, but by the shadowed souls of those who dwell within... Holy man, who is the wretched father of this child?"
"I find myself in agreement with you, teller of tales. And to think that they call us barbarians!"
"Alas, fanged one, we are in their home and when in Ptolus, do as the Ptolans do... But let us not lower ourselves to the level of these darkened fiends! Let us avenge their wrong doing and make a joyful song of their deaths!"
"No, no, it is not her father. For that matter I dont think she knows her father. No, I suspect that the affair, if that is what it was, is now over, and the pregnancy is a result of it. I have no idea who her lover was, but it has not boded well for her. She is a shadow of her former self. She has been turning up late for work as well. Her boss at Saches tailors is none too pleased either, but she is worried as well. All i can ask is that if you are around, watch out for her please? I have enough to worry about as it is..."
Kieran got up slowly and led him inside the tavern. Then he got a private room for himself and the contact. "He's out disposing of the body down in the sewers, don't want any of this tracing back to us after all. Her corpse should be good enough for the rats." Kieran said, referring to the Ortry's "Dim-witted mate". He tossed a lock of blood matted red hair down onto the table. "There, I figured you'd want evidence." The hair had come from a delver lass from inside the Ghostly Minstrel, he'd noticed her when he came in to create his disguise and had been struck by inspiration. He'd charmed the woman, claiming her beautiful(and she was at that) and wooing her all around, and then begging her for a lock of hair. He'd told her he had pressing business(true enough) but that he hoped to spend that night or one soon after in her company(which was surprisingly honest as well). Then, up in his room, working on his disguise, he'd bit himself on his forearm in such a way as to appear as if someone else had bit him, Then he'd taken his own blood and rubbed it into the red lock. All in all he'd though it very clever of him. He raised up his forearm to the man, showing the teethmarks, "Damn witch bit me."
"I'm pretty sure we can do that. We'll keep an eye on her if we can."
"Do not worry, Elder. She will be looked after."
The contact smiles at you, revealing several missing teeth.
"Oooh, thats gotta hurt. Mustave been painful. Ahh well, since your used to a bit of pain you wont mind if I just stick old nipper here into yer guts then?"
He proceeds to quickly pull out a long serated knife.
"Sorry about this, but business is business. Nothing personel; just like things nice and tidy, know wat I mean?"
And with that he slowly advaces on you.
Male human (Neutral Evil)
hp 14
Init +2 Speed 30 feet
AC 15, touch 12, flat-footed 15
BAB+2
Attack +3 melee (1d4+2, dagger)
Fort +1, Ref +11, Will +5
Initiative roll = 17 (15+2)