Perception: 1d20+8=19
"Of course," the pixie adds after a slight pause, "maybe we should finish our breakfast before discussing the investigation."
Leaf focuses on separating the pieces of lamb from the stew.
Luff continues to hungrily eat the stew, while occasionally sending a discreet glance towards the nearby barmaid.
"Did you all sleep comfortably?" he asks, in an attempt at idle conversation.
The door swings open onto the street, letting in a brief gust of wind that sweeps around the room before dying out. Through the door hobbles an aged man leaning heavily on a wooden cane, and a small badger that scampers around the man's feet as he looks around the room for a moment, before fixing on the table which seats the group of investigators.
"There ye are," he calls over to them as he makes his way across the taproom. Upon reaching the table he takes a deep breath, smelling the cabbage stew. "Do ye think ye could bring out another bowl of that stew, honey?" he asks the barmaid.
Luff looks passively at the newcomer for a few seconds, then turns to the table, "This is Alderthane," he states levelly, "my mistress has asked him to aid us in finding out about the missing children, in exchange for a particular lotion that she is procuring for him."
"Blast it ye damned fairy!" the old man exclaims loudly, frowning at Luff, "I've told ye to call me Al!"
He looks at the others at the table and speaks more calmly, "but the little fool's right about the rest, I am here to help ye. It takes Svetlana's ointments to keep the old joints going at my age, and I figure a little rooting around ain't too much of a price."
"I sslept well indeed. I have not had much chance to ssleep in a bed for the lasst few monthss."
Zissaren had come down the stairs behind Jack and had been quietly eating breakfast and listening to the conversation going on around him. He uses his long pointed tongue to clean his mouth and sets down his spoon.
"Good morning Al, help iss alwayss welcome. It appearss we may be sspending ssome time in a ssewer today, will the damp, dirty conditions affect your jointss?
"Good mornin'..." he pauses, looking over the various markings and horns of the lizardman, then finishes "...laddie!"
The man gives a wide grin, "aye, I do suppose it will cause me no end of aches, but I won't be feelin' all that 'till tomorrow, and with any luck, yon munchkin's mistress will have finished her lotions by then."
Meanwhile, the young badger leaves Al's side to investigate his new surroundings, soon finding the colourful skirts of the barmaid facinating, and bats at them playfully.
The pixie studiously ignores the old man's name calling, and scrapes at the dregs of his bowl in silence.
"How have your children avoided capture? Perhaps we could use them as bait?"
Leaf gestures towards the vermin as best he can with a mage-handled piece of meat.
Jack puts his head in his hands. 'At this rate, he thinks, 'how the deuce am I ever going to gain of a reputation in this town to get anything big done?'
"No bait, not children at least. Although if anyone can look like a child, we could use them as bait. However, my network has a pretty good lead on this. Unfortunately, I may have to be called away for a brief time. If I do, my chief tracker is well, a cat. He'll be more than happy to track for you, provided no one tries to eat him."
Leaf energetically organizes some cabbage into pigtails and hovers them near Luff's head.
"Perhaps Luff could pass for a child if required? Will we meet your chief tracker cat, and what could summon you from the sewer...would you not feel you were abandoning your new comrades.
I believe both you Luff and you Jack owe fealty to outside forces that make dealing with you a risk. In my short time here I have been netted thrice, captured in a jar twice. Each occasion was preceded by pronouncements of trust and loyalty on the part of one meat-sack or another.
While I am not naive enough to expect unfettered loyalty to one-another, I would require some sign of faith. Perhaps a ceremony or a mutual swearing of the traditional oaths of our peoples?"
"My people don't have oaths. My people have business arrangements, which must take me away from time to time. Prior commitments, you see."
Arathalia tries unsuccessfully to cover the snicker that erupt at Leaf's antics.
"No, we will not be endangering children, I am not too fond of endangering the elderly either but I assume that your continued activity is evidence of your capability"
"I fail to see how my loyalty to my mistress demonstrates a lack of reliability," the pixie says coldly to the archon, "and I would much rather not swear any oaths - they are extremely binding to we fey, and there may be unexpected consequences should the wording of the oath conflict with a course of action that may be for the good of us all."
"Hah!" the old man exclaims with a wide smile at Arathalia's comment, "I appreciate the concern lass, but I'm not quite so old that ye need to be frettin' over my well-being just yet."
"Now, I'd hardly be callin' Rodrigo here me child," he says to Leaf, "though I guess I'm the closest thing he's got to a family now. But ye do make a fair point - have there been any animals taken, or just the human children?"
"Thank ye kindly, dear." Al thanks the barmaid as she sets down his breakfast, then he takes up the beer cheerfully, "I may be needin' to come back again if you're treatin' me like this!"
A moment later, barmaid returns with a bowl of cabbage and a pint of bear. "On the house, old man. Anything else for the rest of you?" She winks at Jack. "You know, I bet that some parts of you are just the right size..."
"Careful my sweet, or you just might find out!" jack winks lasciviously at the barmaid, then turns back to the discussion at hand. "Oaths are powerful, but I would be comfortable saying I have no interest in the slavery of any of you."
Arathalia slowly turns her head to look at Jak. "If you tried to enslave me, I would cut out your heart."
She returns to her meal.
"Yes, free beer, how hysterical. I will gladly pay if you find a way to put the beer inside me. Or the stew. The stew in me that is, not the beer in the stew..."
Leaf pulses and hovers over the center of the table.
"Oh believe me, I think I know something about the power of oaths, and their power when misused. Contracts too Jack, more so than oaths."
The pulsing stops and Leaf rises over the table:
"So do we simply take this mission as far as each of us will go? Each with loyalty only to themselves. This seems a hollow way to live. So, for my part I pledge to do my best to support each of you in the completion of this quest, wherever it may lead. I will swear to what each of you holds most sacred."
Fort: 1d20+4=24
Concern fills Leaf's voice:
"I can see my words have affected you strongly. Is it that having been convinced by my argument you recoil from yourselves or do you remain unconvinced and the very thought of swearing oaths make you all physically ill?"
As Luff begins to feel the ill effects of the meal, he is distracted from his focus on remaining visible and his small form begins to fade in and out of view.
Grasping out at the table, he looks accusingly towards the barmaid with his dark eyes.
"Urgh," The old man groans, clutching his stomach.
"I may have to rethink me idea of returnin'," he gasps out between bouts of swaying silence, "the establishment clearly ain't as high standard as I assumed."
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As Luff begins to feel the ill effects of the meal, he is distracted from his focus on remaining visible and his small form begins to fade in and out of view.
Grasping out at the table, he looks accusingly towards the barmaid with his dark eyes.
Barmaid is nowhere to be seen. It seem she went to the kitchen while you argued amongst yourselves.
Zissaren hunches over as the sickness and pain in his gut increase. "Eurgh, Al I think you may be right. The sstew sseemss to want to return to itss place in the bowl."
Through the increasing stomach cramps Zissaren looks around at the rest of the inn, trying to see if anyone else is affected like their group.
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Invisible castle seems to be down so I rolled it.
Fort save 12+8 = 20 Oop, 29 failed so I guess I do too.Zissaren hunches over as the sickness and pain in his gut increase. "Eurgh, Al I think you may be right. The sstew sseemss to want to return to itss place in the bowl."
Through the increasing stomach cramps Zissaren looks around at the rest of the inn, trying to see if anyone else is affected like their group.
You start to loose sight. Darkness falls. Your heartbeat slows. Everything just... stops.
As the large lizardman tumbles to the ground, Al's eyes widen in alarm. Pulling himself along the table to Zissaren's side he croaks out short a prayer weakly.
Jack swoons in his chair and the momentary lack of control causes his form to blur slightly, becoming somewhat furry. He quickly ducks under the table until he can gain control again.
Struggling to focus on the information being relayed by his spell, Al's eyes begin to water.