Sterling smiles again, the delicate upturn of the corners of her mouth essentially invisible in the office's dim light, but otherwise remains silent. Quintessentially a woman of few words, she waits until the conversation has stalled out before she takes a step away from the wall.
"Whenever you are ready, Mr. Hartigan." She drapes her glove-clad hand over the hilt of her sword and straightens her posture.
Dwight steps into his office for a brief moment as he shuts the door. Emering a couple minutes later he has donned his leather coat and hat, his rapier all but hidden inside the deep folds of his coat. With a smile at everyone assembled he takes a minute to think to himself, I always seem to assemble a very motley crew.
"Ok everybody, stop smiling at each other. Yes, that includes you Sterling, let's get out of this office, it's starting to get stuffy...", turning to Chaeryl "...would you please hold my calls and tell anyone I'm out of the office, but I will be glad to get back to them as soon as I can." With a wink he adds, "Thanks doll" and is already out the door.
By my count the group is ready, all that we now need is for the DM to move us along
The assembled group of beings continues to discuss the situation with the murder well into the afternoon, so Chaeryl steps out to pick up something to eat, closing and locking the door behind her. As Dwight produces the receipt he...acquired...from the night of the murder and discusses how quickly the watch cleaned everything out, the door rattles and a beautiful Eladrin woman edges her way around the corner of the door frame. Seeing the assembled crew, she gasps slightly and jumps, taking them all in with one long, weary glance. Her long, blond hair falls in front of her face and hides a resounding beauty that few could possibly resist
You all instantly know that she's highborn, noble. She looks startlingly familiar, almost like you've seen her before - an actress, a model, something that's graced the pages or stages of a thousand men's quiet, personal dreams. She hides incredibly rich, warm-tones clothing underneath a dour brown coat and, unlike some more ascetic members of her species, seems to thrive on the quiet glamour of her beauty, well-positioned makeup casting the right shadows and highlights across her high cheekbones and angular but delicate jawline.
She clears her throat a little, pulling her coat around her tighter at the assembled group in the investigator's office. "I -- Well, my word. Quite a few...people" she eyes the Shardmind and warforged significantly, seeming to go to some efforts to edge away from them. "I don't mean to intrude. I was looking for Detective Hartigan? My brother - he's missing. He's a student. I need someone who can help...I just...um...is Detective Hartigan available? I can pay." She looks around at the assembled group, rather sheepishly (or seemingly sheepishly), and her lip begins to tremble very slightly. "I...I'm Sael'iana. My brother's missing, and with the boy who died - the one who fell? - I just thought someone should look, but the other detectives and the Watch, I just --" She chokes off a sob, composes herself, and faces the group as proudly as she can muster. "I need a detective. I need Dwight Hartigan."
I love it, guys. I love it. Hope y'all are ready. Crimson, don't forget the clues you do have: two murders with the same M.O., no suspects from the Watch, saw an airship in the sky just before the guy hit your cab, he was a political activist of sorts, and he hit the ground harder than gravity should have let him. Plus the receipt he had with him with no identifying merchant that had residuum and rat poison on it. Kind of a strange thing for a guy to buy at the same place. And you happen to have a dealer of strange and dangerous things in the room who might be able to make a streetwise, history, or perception check and try to learn more about it. Just saying.
It's a mystery game, too, guys. You might have to take notes. :P
At any rate, here's how the game goes: Continue to talk to Sael'iana if you please, and maybe decide whether you want to take a second case. This isn't part of the potential Away Team game I talked about, this is part of your game proper.
Y'all know that Murders are solved within the first 48 hours or not at all most times. Also, the last two murders were five days apart, and it's been three days already since the most recent murder. This all means that you have a game-based time limit to stop what might be the next murder (but not on the adventure as a whole, just on potentially stopping the next murder).
You're also all officially involved in a Skill Challenge. Main skill is Streetwise, from which you can actually unlock other skills to use. Streetwise can earn you 5 successes before you need to look other places.
A successful History check may also reveal some knowledge of the victim, the place, so on and so forth. Limit 4 successes.
If you look for something specific, you may offer to try to use Arcana, Perception, or Religion. They may grant a success or simply a bonus to your next challenge. You're looking for 10 successes before 3 failures. Tell me what you're looking for (add some fluff to it like "asking around casually on the street" or "calling on old customers" or something like that) and then roll away!
Your DCs for all skills are 14 (I know it's non-standard, but half of you can roll a god damn 2 and beat the standard DC) until Success Number 5, at which point they jump to 18.
Each failure consumes 2 hours of time, each success consumes 1. After you talk to the dame, you may have another job going simultaneously...and maybe an opportunity to learn more about your main case. Who knows? It's a mystery.
Sterling raises a thin eyebrow at this new arrival, listening intently as she rambles and stumbles through her plea. The name "Sael'iana" plucks at something in the recesses of her memory; raising both hands to her mouth, she drums her fingertips together, shuts her eyes and furrows her brow, thinking. Where has she heard that name before?
It's not everyday that a man gets a woman like this asking for him, Hartigan does his best to hide a grin.
"Why yes, I'm Detective Hartigan," He bows slighty, indicating that he understands she of a nobel birth. He softly reachs around back of her, the recipt in his hand he passes it off to Vered mouthing the words, "What do you make of this?". Motioning the eladrin to step into his office, "If you'll excuse me for just one second, I have to talk to my friends. I'll be right in, please take a seat, and make yourself at home." Closing the door behind the woman he quickly steps over to the phone and begins to make some calls to his old friends,
"Hey, it's me. Yea I don't have a lot of time. Look I got an Eladrin here, real knock out, fancy clothes but not too flashy. Name's 'Sael'iana', what do you know about her?", Dwight nods as his friend starts talking to him, "Uh huh, yea, ok, ok. Got it, thanks"
While the Detective and Sterling worked on developing a background for the woman, Rievakari played hostess and rapidly worked to try to make the high-class Eladrin feel more at home in the (unfortunately poorly-suited) office. Leading her to a chair and seating her, the practitioner of the Weird began smoothly assuring her of having made the right choice in seeking the assistance of Hartigan, that she was in the finest hands, we were in fact really just discussing the case of the fallen youth and would likely be more then able to include a search for the Brother in the scope of the current investigation, and have you any practice in the Sublime?
As she spoke Madam Eva simultaneously, and apparently without any close attention, shuffled her deck and separated a specific Suite before placing a three-card spread before herself. The fortune-deriver took note of the Brass Dwarf and the Teamster, each worryingly misaligned, but made no outward comment of them as she returned the cards to her apparently habitual shuffling.
After a minute or so more of mild small-talk, Rievakari abruptly leaned closer to the Eladrin and examined her closely for the effect her next few sentences would have.
"Your brother. He was involved in something out of his class, an external element compelling him down a worrying path. You have come to Detective Hartigan because you fear that he was not invulnerable to the forces that he was involved in.
OOC: This isn't strictly one of the skills mentioned by the DM, but somebody's got to try to draw more details out of the only 'witness' so far, even if she was only witness to a disturbing habit pattern that makes her thoughts turn to "I need a private detective" after a few-day's disappearance of a sibling. I could also try Diplomacy or even Bluff if desired, but the results would be roughly the same.
The idea is to try to see through the witness's facade and discern a glimpse of what she's not yet telling us. Like most good fortune-tellers, Rievakari is at least something of a therapist/psychoanalyst at heart.
Clank remained in the office with Rievakari and the Eladrin, observing her curious procedure with the cards carefully. He had never seen its like before, but then again, he had never paid much attention to fleshling superstitions. This wasn't how he would have gone about obtaining further information, but perhaps it might work?
The only skill I've got that could keep up with the team's success rate at the moment is Intimidate, and I don't want short-circuit Rievakari's efforts. Otherwise, I was thinking Heal might help if Clank could look at the Body, but Hartigan hasn't said anything yet about its location yet
Dwight: Your check regards Sael'iana, but it gives you some serious insight to her potential case, so you get an unconventional SC success.
You call your friend, Paulson Troy, a halfling antiquities dealer who makes a habit of ingratiating himself in the complicated shifting circles of the autocratic elite. Paulson can tell you that he knows this girl and, wow, yeah, a knock-out is right. She's an actress and model, but extra high-class, only shows up in up-scale ladies' clothing stores in person to model their clothes, and she does private performances for noblemen and government folks as well. Even without the Dragonmark, House Phiarlan's Entertainers and Artisans Guild has hired her in the past. Scuttlebutt says she's not actually a noble by birth, and, even less savory rumors say she was cut by the less scrupulous among House Jorasco's finest physicians to look more like Laeliana Telliari, the most famous Eladrin actress from what the nobles call the "Golden Age of the Stage." Paulson never heard of her having a brother, at the university or otherwise, but Dwight, you know that kids go missing from the university all the time. It's Sharn, after all. They tend to turn up within a day or two with a minor Ribald powder addiction or a seriously bad hangover. The other agencies and the Watch probably told her as much, which is why she came to you.
Clank:
The body was ushered away by the Watch before Hartigan could get anything meaningful, besides he fled that scene after he stole evidence. The blood had even been cleaned off the street, and that taxi that it landed on was nowhere to be found. You could, theoretically, try to bully your way into the morgue and take a closer look at it. I hadn't thought about that, but improv may be a lot easier on PbP since I have more time to generate monsters. You could even do that without Hartigan and the crew, if you wanted to. During the skill check, there's no reason not to split up a little bit...unless you get in a fight when you get there...eh? eh? Decisions! It's up to you guys.
Vered:
Skill Challenge Success!
Residuum is a common enough purchase, and you buy it nearly constantly. The strange, powdery material is a key component in nearly every decent piece of high-quality artificing a fellow can engage in. No price listed on the residuum, but the script of the receipt looks tantalizingly familiar, and you get the sense that it could be one of your competitors - another of the dealers of the unsavory and dangerous that dot the lower and middle city.
The rat poison - arsenic - is rather particularly more telling. Listed at 10sp per box, it probably wasn't rat poison at all. Pure, undiluted arsenic dressed up as arsenic is more likely. An extremely common component in poisons. It's also an anticoagulant. Riedran terrorists and other crazy cultists sometimes coat their clockwork bombs in the stuff so that their victims bleed faster. Overall, the list is a recipe for disaster, and not the sort of thing you would expect a political activist to have been carrying around.
You have two guesses about the sort of unscrupulous wholesalers the group could press for more on this: Javin Bemiin, a distempered githyanki in the lower city, or the shifter everyone in your circles just calls Westerman, who operates in the upper city. Either may recognize the handwriting on the receipt and might remember who they would have sold both arsenic and residuum to.
Sterling: Your check was regarding Sael'iana, so since it wasn't about the main line for the skill proper, it can give you some serious information about her, but no SC success.
The thought dawns on you that you've seen this woman before! It was while on a job escorting some flimsy highborn woman who had gained the attention of what she was convinced was a dangerous stalker on a shopping trip through the Skyway - a job that was incredibly boring and frustrating - you saw this Eladrin in a store, posing and showing off the clothing the store offered. You recall thinking how strange it was that a person would just wear clothes for a living. The noble woman you were working for seemed thrilled to gossip about her when you asked one of your rare questions, and you learned quite a bit more than might ever be useful: Apparently, even without the Dragonmark, House Phiarlan's Entertainers and Artisans Guild has hired her in the past. Scuttlebutt says she's not actually a noble by birth, and even less savory rumors say she was cut by the less scrupulous among House Jorasco's finest physicians to look more like Laeliana Telliari, the most famous Eladrin actress from what the nobles call the "Golden Age of the Stage." The lady you were working for was convinced her "private performances" are little more than a cute pseudonym for whoring, and, even back then, it was getting harder and harder for the eladrin known as Sael'iana to find work as an actress. You got the idea that some of the truly highborn noble women may have been responsible for that.
Rievakari:
Your instincts and the cards serve you well. You see through two lies: You know she's not really a noble, despite her dress. She is definitely specifically not/ telling you something about her brother:
Sael'iana watches the card with the small play of a smile gracing her face, hiding the worry and consternation that seemed to have taken permanent residence there. "There was a Weird Sister who played in our troupe in the upper city. She was a wonderful person. I learned a lot about the Cards from her, but your deck is different. Why is the dwarf upside -"
When you suddenly lean forward and ask about her brother, the smile trembles, and tears well in her eyes. "He...His name is Tellarin. Schooling at the University is expensive, particularly for nobles. I've been helping pay his way. Our parents are dead, you see, and the trust fund that House Kundarak keeps for us - well, they won't let us take out more than the contract allows, and it's not enough. And he doesn't fit in there. The other noble boys are all very into the nightlife...Tellarin said he had gotten a job, something to make it easier on me. He was busy, always distracted, but then, two nights ago he just --" She begins to sob ferociously and drops her face into her hands. The crying is genuine, but you think it might be slightly embellished out of an actress' habit toward her craft.
Hartigan enters the office and shuts the door quietly, raising an eyebrow at Rievakari as the strange woman quietly comforts the eladrin beauty. She seems to quiet her sobs as the detective makes his entrance and hands the eladrin his handkerchief. Before he can speak, she clears her eyes and looks at him and Rievakari imploringly.
"I appreciate your hospitality, Weird Sister, I do. And, Detective, I'm sorry to barge in like this. Madam Eva told me you were already talking about the boy who died last week, and I know you're smart enough to figure the man who died not too far from here - Baldrin? - that he may have been wrapped up in it, too. I didn't know Baldrin, myself, but people I work with have heard things about him. Now my brother is missing, and everyone I ask tells me people go missing in Sharn all the time, especially University kids, but Tellarin isn't like that! He has a job! He's a good student. No one will believe me when I say that I know - I just know - he's in real trouble. The last time I was at his suite near the university, it looked like he hadn't been there in days. He's missed almost a week's worth of classes. I just need someone who knows what they're doing to look for him. Please say you'll help. You're my only hope."
Status:
Skill Challenge: 2 Successes, 0 Failures
You earned a Streetwise Success (1 of 5)
You earned a History Success! (1 of 4)
I hope I'm not playing too fast and loose with you guys. If you'd like more structure, let me know and I will do all I can to accommodate.
Ten pieces of silver for some rat poison? Sure, there's a sucker born every day, but not one that's going to go shopping for residuum & arsenic...
Vered scrutinizes the script on the receipt. Looks like it was issued by either Javin Bemiin or Westerman... so which of those two did his gut think they should go to first?
Bemiin's hole in the wall is closer. May as well hit his place first.
He discreetly shuffles over to the closed door to Hartigan's office, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation happening on the other side. An Eladrin looking like that doesn't just drop on by a small time operation like Hartigan's when they've got real problems.
Something didn't smell right.
Perception: 1d20+1121 - Check to see if I can successfully listen to the conversation from the other side of the door.
Insight: 1d20+615 - Check to see if I can tell how honest our new prospective client is being
Dwight pulls out his leather journal and begins to write down everything that Sael'iana says. Nodding as she speaks, or pauses. He does his best to let out a warm smile as he looks up into her eyes,
"So I've decided that I shall take your case, but I am going to have to ask you a couple of questions, just to help me ferret out some clue you might not know that you know. Your brother, the one at the University, what is his full name? Does he have any nicknames he goes by? Did he say where he worked for this job? Any friends or classmates he mentioned, in particular? Either good or bad I need to know. Do you have a photo or a sketch of him that I could borrow, just until the investigation is over, seeing a face will generally spark someone's memory more than a name. You said you met at his suite, do you have a key that I can use to get in and have a look around? Don't want anyone to think the detective you hired is a burglar! Also one last thing, before I take a breath so you can answer the questions, you said that people you work with said they heard things about Baldrin...if that's so, and your brother might be involved I will need to know the names, addresses, and best time to visit those people."
List of Questions for easy reference:
1: Your brother, the one at the University, what is his full name?
2: Does he have any nicknames he goes by?
3: Did he say where he worked for this job?
4: Any friends or classmates he mentioned, in particular? Either good or bad I need to know.
5: Do you have a photo or a sketch of him that I could borrow
6: You said you met at his suite, do you have a key that I can use to get in and have a look around?
7: You said that people you work with said they heard things about Baldrin...if that's so, and your brother might be involved I will need to know the names, addresses, and best time to visit those people.
With a glimmer of a smile Rievakari glanced up at the detective as he entered. She fell silent to allow him to press Sael'iana for more specific details, twirling a card idly the whole time... The Sundered Crown, although outwardly it appeared to warrant no significance from her. She glanced significantly at Clank and gently projected her voice into both the warforged and the Detective's minds.
"She lies of her nobility and is withholding some knowledge of her brother's activities, likely out of embarrassment. That is all that I have seen thus far. I wish to see the bodies of the two current victims, and I feel that Clank likewise would find that a more useful dispensation of his time."
In the physical realm, Rievakari turned and smiled warmly at Sael'iana once again.
"You are in capable and discreet hands. If you wish to see the best possible outcome to this affair, I will only ask that you speak freely of every detail that could be at all significant. I must now go.
A passing effort at making the witness more likely to speak honestly.
OOC: Yeah, I'd like to split and hit the street as well. Maybe Clank and Rievakari can go double-team the angle of the victim's bodies, for extra assurance. I bet an Arcana check on a Dragonmark could yield interesting results.
It's worth noting that Rievakari's Telepathy allows for two-way communication if those she speaks to wish it.
OOC: I agree let's split the party for now, I think it would be great if Clank and you went to check the body, while Mos and Vered went to check out the sellers that Vered knows. I don't think anyone should be wandering off alone. I'll probably be in my office for a little while and should be relatively safe since I'm not running around on the streets.
At Rievakari's nod, Clank begins to follow the fortune-teller out of the office. As they hit the street, he motions to her to follow him. "Lets try the morgue. One of the attendants there is at the Rose most evenings, and may be...pliable."
"It would love to accompany to you - it seems that it is very good at asking questions here. Everyone answers it very quickly! Your people are very polite!"
Mos Nasam steps out office with Vered and they head to wherever Bemiin has sequestered himself.
Vered strikes a match as he heads out onto the beat with the shardmind, sticking a cigar into his mouth and igniting the end. He offers a second one to Mos Nassam.
Mos Nasam sends mild waft of confusion at the cigar until Vered lights and puffs on the end.
"My thanks, but I would be remiss in point out that it cannot intake anything."
"By the way... it has been so, so curious... how does it feel to be... hollow? It does not hurt?"
I would imagine that it would be fairly easy going to get to Bemiin's - most people would probably stop to gawk and stumble out of the way from a blue walking dragonshard.
"No shit? Sorry about that, boss; thought you had a mouth hiding somewhere."
Vered just pockets the other cigar.
"I don't really have a basis for comparison on how it feels being mostly hollow versus being mostly solid, so I couldn't tell you. Maybe I'm in total agony, but I'd never know because, well, that's how it's always been. This way."
The Deva leads the construct down a side street.
I'll just wait for direction from our GM before going much further. I'm not sure what he had in mind for Bemiin's place.
Sterling unbuckles her swordbelt and pulls it off her waist, propping the weapon up against the nearest wall. It's an attempt to make herself seem less threatening - she's well aware of the discomforting effect her presence and mannerisms seem to have on people.
She takes a seat on the corner of the Detective's desk and smiles; the gesture is meant to be warm and sincere, but comes across instead as eerie and vaguely serpent-like. "Now that it is not so crowded in this room... perhaps Mr. Hartigan would like to ask more questions?" she suggests, glancing sidelong in his direction.
OOC: Bummer Sterling, but it's nice to have a backup person here. Being split into 3 groups we are spread pretty thin. I think next time something like this happens I'll make Hartigan be a little more an in-charge guy, as opposed to everyone sorta shuffeling off on their own.
"Lets try the morgue. One of the attendants there is at the Rose most evenings, and may be...pliable."
Madam Eva stepped outside of the Detective's office into the Sharn evening, then turned to watch as Vered and Mos Nasam depart in a different direction. Finally she speaks, though naturally in a string of non-sequitor.
"I know a little of Roses. We would do well to protect ourselves against thorns. Always pick a rose by moonlight, for they are hopeless romantics and will only then accede to your touch without complaint. Fortunately, the City has seen fit to give us just such a nocturnal illumination.
Please lead the way, Clank."
Rievakari can change her Cosmic Phase at 'the end of every Short or Extended Rest,' which I'll try to exploit as little as possible but otherwise assume means she can switch among phases during extended-length out of combat sections where we're in a looser, narrative time flow. At the moment, she would like to switch to the Phase of the Moon, which in addition to it's combat advantages nets her a +2 feat bonus to Bluff checks and Stealth checks (Student of the Cosmos feat), in replacement of the +2 to Insight and Perception she previously had.
Also, new picture update until I manage to stop being lazy and start coloring it:
Sweet. I'm thinking we wait to see if our DM had anything in particular he wanted to cook up for the morgue, and go from there. My thought was that one of the regulars at the Broken Rose, that Clank may have had occasion to throw out or collect from, works there. Maybe a little Good Cop/Bad Cop?
Ok, more direction shortly. I'm sorry for my tardiness, guys. I have unexpected company and I don't want to be rude. My shit will improve greatly in a couple hours.
Sael'iana looks down at her lap, wringing her hands and seeming to consider her words long and hard before she speaks again. "He was registered as Tellarin ul-Maven. It's not our real surname. Forgive me, Detective but...there are some things I can't say. You understand I hope. A girl has to have some secrets. I've always called him Tellarin, but I imagine his friends call him Rin. It's what he used as a young boy. He didn't fit in very well at all in the university. He was studying artificing, you see, but he's a musician at heart. Tellarin always told me that most kids who study arcanum at the Univeristy don't care for music or poetry or art. I can't think of a worse way to live." She lights up a little, and her smile is incredibly radiant, her open passion for performance immediately disarming. "'Artifice is all made, but art is born.' Our father said that once. So, no friends he talked about...the job..."
Your insight check tells you that's not true. You seem to remember it being a fairly famous quote from a human bard within the last hundred years or so. Being human, he wasn't likely their father.
She becomes visibly anxious and, removing her fine leather gloves, begins to nibble ever so slightly on her lower lip. "He said it wasn't strictly legal, but wasn't illegal either. Something about ribers and Ribald dealers. I told him I didn't like it because I didn't want him associating with those people, but he said it worked through the papers or something. He called it...damn it what was it." She looks up, shocked to hear herself swear, but seeing the way her propriety tugs a smile at the corner of Hartigan's mouth, she returns it with another one of her charming grins. "I don't know the work, precisely. He called it owning his own business, but he worked for another student's 'business.' I remember her name. Her name was Wessa. She was tiefling, I think. As for what he looks like..."
She produces from her purse a simple ghost image of the two of them (it's like a sepia tone photo but in blues instead of browns. Magic and shit) which could have been from a year ago or less - it's hard to tell with eladrin. She looks almost identical, but she's standing next to and laughing with a younger male eladrin with hair cut short for an eladrin, heavily tousled near the front but pulled into a semblance of a top-knot near the back. He's got rather prominent grease smears on his shirt and seems to have been threatening his older sister with the remains of whatever it is he was working on.
"When we met for launch last, he still wore his hair like that. He said it's practical for artificing, but I think it looks stupid. And those overalls - those ridiculous overalls. We could never meet up-city because he could never manage to dress himself well enough. The diners in the middle city are nice enough for me though, and I got to see him so --"
She stops as she realizes she's rambling, and you can see her throat tighten. "I'm sorry. It's just that every time I start talking about him, I catch myself assuming he's dead, like I'm trying to build up a wall in case...in case... well, the worst. I don't want it to be true, and I don't believe he really is. People go missing in Sharn, but they get found all the time, right? The Watch and the agencies always finds people who get lost in the Upper City and the Skyway. People get found."
She shakes her head, her wild blond hair splaying out as she does so. She grips it all in her hands and smooths it out with practiced ease, rearranging it instinctively into the carefully arranged drapery that makes her so alluring. "As for Baldrin...I work in the elite and political circles of the city. People talk all the time, but part of what I do is about discretion. I can't give you names, I'm afraid. One woman who had me demoing some gowns for her daughter complained about him at length, but I guess that shouldn't be a surprise since she was noble. Still, political stuff moves fast up-city, and I caught bits and pieces. It sounded to me like Baldrin was one of those democratic activists. I heard he thought that the district's representatives should be freely elected instead of delegates chosen among noble families to be voted on. His idea was that it winds up being a race to raise more money than the other Noble house in order to...what did he say the one time? "Chuck coin at the plebs to buy votes" I think it was. Anyway, he didn't have many friends up-city. Some people thought he was involved with the kind of apothecary rings that move the more dangerous kinds of Ribald - the powder kind - and that he may have been on their payroll anyway. Most upper class think that the city is constantly battling back the controlling influences of the -- " she stops herself mid-sentence as she seems to remember what level of the city she's on " -- unsavory people in the lower parts."
She fishes in her purse again and produces two items: one is a simple key that likely leads to Tellarin's suite, the other is a small coin pouch. "That's Tellarin's suite key. If you know where the University is, go clockwise through Tower Canyon toward the north end of the university, and you'll be in the Ivory Towers. Tellarin's apartment is on the Den'iyas side of the city toward the bottom of the upper levels. It's called Menthis Views - large, strangely shaped building next to an old temple that I think is part of a halfling enclave now? But I don't know. I see a lot of the friendly folk in and around there."
As your reach out of the key, she sets the coin purse on top of it. "And that's for being kind enough to listen to my craziness. Even if Tellarin shows up on his own - and even though my heart tells me you'll have to find him, I can still hope - you have that small down payment as my thanks."
It's 200gp. A rather significant down payment, indeed. See, I'm a great DM. I give you guys loot just for playing along.
Vered:
You hear the vast majority of the conversation, occassionally missing words here and there which aren't hard to piece together, but she's either telling the truth or an exceptionally good actress, because without seeing her face and her body language, you can't hear any deception in her voice. It is weird that she'd come to a detective like Hartigan, but what mention you've heard of Ribald, which is popular drug used in a lot of recreational ways, makes you think that she's trying to avoid getting her brother into trouble if he is just lost. The other agencies and the Watch try to make examples of kids who fall in with drugs.
Vered & Mos Nasam (To Bemiin!):
As you descend deeper into the city, taking a handful of mass elevators, Vered, you notice that people start to seem less confused and more anxious about Mos Nasam. You remove your coat and have the shardmind where it to cover himself, the thought occurring to you that some crazy Ribber might try to chop your new friend up just to sell the dragonshards for cash to feed his addiction. Dusk begins to descend as you descend, but it works out well for you since you know Bemiin is more likely to take visitors the later the hour, especially visits from a minor competitor like yourself (minor only because your business doesn't exclusively overlap. If you had a mind to, you're quite sure, you could pop over to the chemicals, alchemicals, and unsavory supplies business and you'd crush his operation.).
You head down a side bridge with the gentle glow of the cogs nearly a mile below you radiating heat and light up into the darkening sky. Even though it's not quite seventh bell, it's quite a bit darker down here. Bemiin's place is at the end of the bridge, but you can already tell you may have called at a bad time. A pair of gith with blackjacks hanging from the belts cut you and Mos Nasam off on the bridge. One spits grotesquely at your feet and sneers (which looks absurd because their noses are already three quarters of the way up their heads)
"Oh, ain't this right as soot rain, Tran? The Purple People Penny Pincher shows up all not-announce-ed like and toting a --" He glances derisively at Mos Nasam "Well, whatever the hell that is. You lookin for a warm welcome, Kaboom? The last bit o' cannon you sold Bemiin nearly blew his arm off, you know."
The other gith laughs deeply, but it sounds like a weeze. You realize most of his already diminished nose is severely broken and a series of deep scars runs across his face. Another gith moves forward, this one brandishing a small steel bar that might pass for a weapon to anyone except an expert in weapons like Vered. "The kick of it all is that he thinks we give a damn if him or glowy winds up smoldering three miles down in hell's own assholes, huh, boys?"
The trio chuckles lightly, and each begins to brandish their weapons. "So, what it'll be, White-Washed? We gonna have us a tussle, or you and the walking glowstick goin' on your merry way?"
Don't worry guys. They're assholes, but you can take 'em. You can either decide to be diplomatic, intimidate them, or roll for initiative. If you opt to do the last, I'll throw up a wee map to play on. I promise you won't die because of a trio of punk gith.
Clank and Rievakari:
Night falls fast even in the middle city of Sharn, and the morgue for the local Watch House is almost across the plateau. Twilight settles in around you by the time you make it there, and the place seems to have emptied out for the most part. A pair of Watch patrolmen they pass on their way in give Clank a bit of the stink eye, but the odd smile from Rievakari seems to placate them and they dive back into their box of pastries.
Moving through the morgue with an odd familiarity, Clank is intercepted by a small, corpulent dwarf: Cleg, the regular at Roses. "Oy! Whoa, oy there, big fella. Oim faer frem Roses 'ere, yeh sae? Yee canna be coom'n dahn 'round 'ere. Oi knah oim in a spoh a' deht to ye, but...well, Clanger, fella, yer..." he shrugs sheepishly. "Yer koind aint welcome ta beeeen thaes sort o' places." He seems to notice Rievakari and glances about hurriedly, making an ushering motion toward the much larger warforged bouncer and the odd kalashtar woman. "Nah, suhreus like, ye've got ta lehv meh be! Oi'll pay up o'er Roses before the week is ooht. Oi give ye me word," he says, placing a faux hat over his heart in a gesture that suggests his word hasn't ever been worth the price of the invisible hat he pantomimed with.
Everyone:
Ribald, so you know, is essentially a distilled magical drug that can be cut and shaped into a couple different forms. The most common and least potent is to form it into strands with other herbs and bake it into a kind of dice-able tobacco and smoke it. This induces an extremely mild delirium like a happy drunk might get, but it affects species almost universally. Because of its alcehmical component, even warforged who cycle it through their systems get a kind of buzz, but for them it's more like what Clank feels when he spins his wrists, just all over their systems. Ribald smokers and ribald joints are called "Alders" and "alder" respectively. It probably comes from the way those under the effects obsess over the vibrancy of plant life.
The second, less amicable version is where powder is boiled into a slightly viscous liquid and injected using syringes that artificers and the like normally use for healing infusions. This causes the same delirium, but it's also a powerful painkiller and a blood thinner. People have been known to "nod off" because of quasi-anemic side effects from Ribald injections. Ribnod is what most people call this method of using Ribald, for obvious reasons. It may have other effects that a Heal check could determine on a person under the influence.
The last, most dangerous version is the inhalation of the powder straight into the sinus cavities or oral ingestion. Ribbers, as they're called, have phases. Delirium is first, then an unexplained and uncontrollable lecherous state where addicts crave physical interaction, to the point of forcing themselves on members of the same or opposite sex, other species, even non-sentients. The next phase is powerful lethargy that borders on a coma-like state. Depending on the dose, a person can go through these phases several times while under the effects of the powder. Ribbers are also incredibly dangerous during their first two phases because of their tendency to view bodily fluids as fascinating and their drive to interact physically. Sometimes they just want to be hit, sometimes they want to hit things. They have to hit hard to even feel it because of the pain nulling effects of the drug. Addicts tend to develop twitches, cracks in their voices, and rashes across their upper lips. Tieflings' horns have been known to turn a yellowish color, while marking on other species (like a Deva's white patterns or a goliath's clan marks) tend to grow somewhat pallid. Heal checks can reveal more on those suffering under its affects.
And yes, I made all that up.
Status:
You have 2 Successes of 10
3 Hours have passed, leaving you with 45
(1 for each success, all the discussion, and the travel. So, given that, Rievakari, your phase shifts are totally acceptable. Red Powers won't truly recharge until an initiative sequence passes, though, folks.)
Mos Nasam and Vered have encounter some unpleasant gith (zerai and yanki) between them and their quarry.
Clang and Rievakari have encountered Mortician Cleg, who seems nervous to say the least.
Sterling and Hartigan are keeping The Lady company (almost used the word "Drilling" but thought that might be a little skeezy)
Again, I hope the fast and loose style isn't putting anyone off too badly.
A note on loot: I operate on Wishlists because Loot Parcels are a pain in the ass to come up with. You guys can PM me with items you'd like of levels 6 through 9. Normally I would require you to sell anything you don't want at the normal 20%, but Vered's back story makes that idea unfluffy...so if Vered can pass a DC I haven't determined yet, you may be able to sell that sort of thing for a more attractive price.
"It's Mister Kaboom to you, chuck. Almost took off the old lizard's arm, eh? Shame. I figured the dipshit would at least lobotomize himself with it."
Vered pulls back the left half of his trenchcoat, revealing his ever-so-trusty Thompson sub-machine gun.
"You boys wanna dance, fine by me. I got the music right here."
The Deva instinctively tries to get himself between Mos Nassam and and the Gith goon squad as hedraws his weapon, unsure that the shardmind is equipped or trained for a street fight in the big city.
With a smile Hartigan gently takes the picture and safely tucks it away, "I'll take good care of this. Now I think it's best that we head on up to your brothers suite. Would you mind if we talked on the way to the upper level? We can part once we get close, I wouldn't want you to be seen in my company, it might make people talk and I can assume that you want some discretion in this matter. I do however request that you cancel all of your appointments for the next two days, and preferably stay at your house. I will need a solid way to contact you if I need anything else...and to return this ghost image to you. By the way, where do you live and is there a way that I can contact you without having to go through public channels?"
Standing up Hartigan takes the key and puts it safely into his pocket, he also takes the bag of gold and tucks it away as well. With all of his stuff already packed he grabs his back and ushers the lady out of his office, "Sterling I think you'd better come with me. We're going to the brothers place and I could use your eyes, hopefully you'll be able to keep your sword sheathed."
OOC: I'd like to keep talking with Sael'iana as we head towards the upper level, and the university. Also I'm totally down with the fast and loose style. If you ever do anything totally out of character, like randomly killing someone, I'll PM you but other than that it's all been groovy.
The following is assuming that it's ok to walk and talk with Sael'iana if it's not just let me know and I can modify it
As the trio leaves Dwight's office he double-checks that he has everything before heading to the upper level. Once he's sure he didn't forget anything he locks the office door and double checks that it is locked by trying to turn the handle.
"You gotta make sure you keep your goods locked up here...I have to ask, simply because it's been bugging me since you said it. You remember that quote your father said, 'Artifice is all made, but art is born'", he gets a grin as he looks up at from the door knob, "I seem to remember a human bard saying that exact thing...I believe he said it within the last 100 years. So, shall we try that again? And please don't lie to me again, I really hate liars...especially when they pay me so well to find their little brother..." his eyes get cold as he stares directly at Sael'ian "...that nobody has ever heard of."
"Hey Sterling, can you remember who said 'Artifice is all made, but art is born'? A name would be perfect right about now. Also can you ever remember anybody saying anything Sael'iana's brother? Cause I would love to be wrong right about that."
Regardless of this I think we should still check out the brothers place, and on the way there, after we have separated from the company of the lady Sael'iana Dwight is gonna find a contact to ask questions about the case and show the photo around. Not sure if we can, but if we have some way of contact the rest of the crew I'd like to tell them where we are going, I'd be willing to give 2 silver pieces each to send out messages from some service, or some other reliable way of contact people.
Also rolled a diplomacy and streetwise. Diplomacy just in case but shouldn't be needed since I'm not trying to intimidate, just gather info. Streetwise to find out more info on the brother's case from contacts after the three of us separate
"I seem to remember a human bard saying that exact thing...I believe he said it within the last 100 years. So, shall we try that again? And please don't lie to me again, I really hate liars...especially when they pay me so well to find their little brother..." his eyes get cold as he stares directly at Sael'ian "...that nobody has ever heard of."
Having retrieved her blade from its perch in the corner, Sterling wordlessly falls into step behind the Detective and the girl. As they walk, she holds the scabbard in her off-hand just beneath the crossguard and allows her dominant arm to hang freely at her side, her fingers tensed in preparation. Her posture is rigid, disciplined - she carries herself in a way that is impeccably suited to her line of work.
"'Artifice is made, but art is born'..." she repeats, musing in a curious tone of voice. It's the first sound she's made since they left the office; if it were not for Sael'iana shooting discomfited glances over her shoulder every minute or two to make sure that she was still following them, Sterling would be otherwise invisible. A laconic and subtle demeanor came in handy when you made a living being someone's shadow. "Mmm. His name is on the tip of my tongue..." The woman furrows her brow in thought...
"I seem to remember a human bard saying that exact thing...I believe he said it within the last 100 years. So, shall we try that again? And please don't lie to me again, I really hate liars...especially when they pay me so well to find their little brother..." his eyes get cold as he stares directly at Sael'ian "...that nobody has ever heard of."
Oh snap.
Shit about to be going down.
Edit: Do you think Sterling could make another history check to see if she remembers hearing anything about Sael'iana having a brother?
Mos Nasam has been somewhat oblivious while threading after Vered -- slowling taking in the sights of Sharn -- but the shard comes into quick focus at the promise of danger from the Gith slumpunks. From the voluminous folds of Mos Nasam's coverings, its grasps a chain and with it a hanging crystal ball, softly glowing reds.
"Do not worry about it Mr. Vered. This is part and parcel of what it was made to do."
Clank picks at some dirt that had gathered over his torso, emitting a small sigh as he slowly strides towards the dwarf.
"Cleg, we both know that your account is already three weeks past due. Again, we both know this would normally require some unpleasant reminders of your obligations, but Mr. Rusvar has kept me quite busy. Another week? That would require some intense discussion indeed. You'd likely not be able to chew for some time, let alone walk..." He bends at the waist, lowering his face to the Dwarf's level.
"Still, there might be a way to avoid this. The lady and I wish to view some of your charges. Arrange this, and Mr. Rusvar may keep me busy for another week or so, otherwise" he rests his clawed hand lightly on the dwarf's shoulder "you make the top of the list."
With an amused smile Rievakari walked past the dwarf and to the desk he had manned, confident of the arresting properties of Clank's 'persuasion' that Cleg would make no move to stop her. She seated herself imperiously in the ratty heap that passed for a chair and flipped disinterestedly through some open manila folders.
"An Ill-fated Street Urchin and a Luckless Legislator each took a long fall, and thus wrote their warm names on the City's cold pavement. If you would be so kind, may we see them? We would like to ask them some questions."
While Cleg considered their generous proposal Rievakari rifled through a randomly-chosen cabinet and pulled free some documentation she thought might be useful, throwing open the manila folder on the cluttered table and picking apart it's contents.
"...I am ever so bad at reading official reports."
Cleg's eyes widen more with each heavy step of the warforged closing the distance between them, to the point of absolute absurdity. It's amazing his eyeballs don't simply pop out of his head. He glances back at the strange woman apparently complicit in whatever task the clinking construct has been assigned.
"Eh, heh, heh," Cleg laughs nervously, patting the taloned hand gently. "Were all friends 'ere, eh? Ye got a pal wound up 'orizontal-like or somethin'? Not likely we'd 'ave any'un from doon yer pahrts-" he glances warily at the clawed hand. "Y'know, weel, Oi s'pose ain't t' harm in lettin' ye poke about. Folla me."
He disengages quickly and goes thumping down the hallway and a few flights of stairs, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder to make sure you're still there. You finally come to a cold basement hallways with rows upon rows of heavy steel doors. Cleg sighs and for once the smell of barley and alcohol isn't the most noticeable aspect: you can see the mist of his breath cling heavily to the air. He grins, but there's no mirth in it.
"It's roight classy, eh? So, which'un moight be this frieend of yern?" He spreads his hands toward the hallway. "Oi canna be takin ye on the fuhl tuhr, moind, but Oi kin give ye t' rundoon. Arhg'nized ear'lest ta latest. Names will be on t' cases when ye step enside. Nah, moind ye don't hang 'round too long, Clank. Oi can be...accom'datin' ta an extent, ye ken? Up in moi'ffice shud ye need meh." He retreats hastily up the stairs, rubbing his shoulder and doing his best to present a smile for as long as the pair can see him.
As you enter the nearest door, you can see it's a small 20-square-foot room with a pair of simple operating tables in the middle with the House Jorasco seal on them. The walls are lined with doors of varying sizes containing the refrigerated remains of the recently deceased. It's eerily cold in here, with a strange fog clinging to the floor. You suspect that the blue dragonshard that's encircled in a complicated machine hanging amidst the room's only everburning lamp might be responsible.
You guys can locate Baldrin fairly easily by exploring a little bit, but his name may not on his case since he had an aberrant dragonmark somewhere on his body. The case may be intentionally mislabeled or locked to protect him or his identity. Perceptions rolls at a DC16 will handle it, and dungeoneering at a DC14 can help you determine if something has been faked in a sentient-constructed location. The case will be locked, and it's a dc 12 Thievery to open it. I tell you this so that I won't hold you up. You might also be able to break it using an Athletics check: two DC12s or one DC18. More about the body when you find it.
Each time you fail at any of the rolls, it will consume fifteen minutes of game time. Meaning that time's a ticking.
Rievakari switched to intimidate for this part, but Clank blew it out of the water, so...it's taken you about an hour to make your way down here. If you want to switch to another phase, that's fine, but if you're doing that, try to use that sequential progression that Cosmic Sorcerers are wont to.
Ehrveryone else: stay tuned. More for Sterling/Dwight next [you may want to be careful. If something untoward happened to her real or not real brother, maybe you're not the only ones looking into it], and then we'll hand Mos Nasam and Vered's minor combat.
Clank moves smoothly from case to case, his visor a dim green as he scans the names on each. Just as the frost begins to coat his taloned toes, he stops at one case towards the middle, secured with a heavy padlock.
"No name. And by the gathered frost, filled out of sequence. Baldrin is likely within."
Clank takes the lock in hand, turning this way and that. Apparently arriving at the optimal angle, he brings his other claw down swiftly, striking it at a barely visible seam. The lock shatters, the remnants littering the floor beneath Baldrin's case.
First off, I want to say this is going really fantastically Srboyceboat.
Secondly, Im going to be away much of the day - having people over for the real life game I'm dming, and probably some Arkham horror.
But in case my character comes up in the fight... which I assume Ill probably go first with that initiative roll, heres what I will be doing. In case the Gith go first and step up on me, I would shift away one and do the same thing.
Mos Nasam holds the hanging crystal ball up and with a blast of mental energy, it lashes out at the closest Gith assailant. The psychic backwash bleeds into the air in an ugly flickering green tint.
Rievakari began perusing the steel vault-like doors immediately upon Cleg's introduction to the morgue, ignoring the rest of the dwarf's speech. Her earlier smile had disappeared completely as they had descended to the chilly basement.
"This mortuary reeks of the unfulfilled fates of those within. It is... more painful to have come here then I had thought. Ah, there you are."
She indicated a vault that had an unusual little brass lock on it. Although clearly of decent quality, the lock didn't stand out too much from other details of the room but for the tiny inscription of a Kundarak locksmith's trademark around the keyhole.
"We will need this one opened."
She continued down the rows of cold steel slabs, muttering darkly to herself all the while.
No useful results from the perception check in Cleg's office prior?
Anyway, I suppose that I had better switch over to the next cycle (One forward from the Moon [2] is the Stars [3]) for the needed bonus to this next Perception check so that Clank can get to tearing that vault open (since neither of us is any good at Thievery). Kind of sucks that we'll be leaving an obvious trail like that.
Perception roll went here, but I've stolen it for the new post
Is the kid in here as well, or is it futile to go searching for him?
Rievakari began perusing the steel vault-like doors immediately upon Cleg's introduction to the morgue, ignoring the rest of the dwarf's speech. Her earlier smile had disappeared completely as they had descended to the chilly basement.
"This mortuary reeks of the unfulfilled fates of those within. It is... more painful to have come here then I had thought. Ah, there you are."
When Clank identified and then smashed open the necessary slab, she sighed heavily and wheeled over a table to deposit the body onto. She wrinkled her nose at the body that they together deposited onto an operating table, but otherwise handled the scene with surprising stoicism. The fortune-teller examined the pitiful remains of Baldrin Remstin carefully, then produced from a pocket a small mystic focus which consisted of twined thread around a completely non-descript lodestone. Holding it clenched in her two hands before her and closing her eyes, the Mystic went to work.
"The Sublime Sight would of course be much more effective had there been less tampering with the victim... but the aura he possesses is strong, strong indeed. I will be done here momentarily..."
No useful results from the perception check in Cleg's office prior?
Anyway, I suppose that I had better switch over to the next cycle (One forward from the Moon [2] is the Stars [3]) for the needed bonus to this next Perception check.
Posts
"Whenever you are ready, Mr. Hartigan." She drapes her glove-clad hand over the hilt of her sword and straightens her posture.
let's move out!
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"Ok everybody, stop smiling at each other. Yes, that includes you Sterling, let's get out of this office, it's starting to get stuffy...", turning to Chaeryl "...would you please hold my calls and tell anyone I'm out of the office, but I will be glad to get back to them as soon as I can." With a wink he adds, "Thanks doll" and is already out the door.
You all instantly know that she's highborn, noble. She looks startlingly familiar, almost like you've seen her before - an actress, a model, something that's graced the pages or stages of a thousand men's quiet, personal dreams. She hides incredibly rich, warm-tones clothing underneath a dour brown coat and, unlike some more ascetic members of her species, seems to thrive on the quiet glamour of her beauty, well-positioned makeup casting the right shadows and highlights across her high cheekbones and angular but delicate jawline.
She clears her throat a little, pulling her coat around her tighter at the assembled group in the investigator's office. "I -- Well, my word. Quite a few...people" she eyes the Shardmind and warforged significantly, seeming to go to some efforts to edge away from them. "I don't mean to intrude. I was looking for Detective Hartigan? My brother - he's missing. He's a student. I need someone who can help...I just...um...is Detective Hartigan available? I can pay." She looks around at the assembled group, rather sheepishly (or seemingly sheepishly), and her lip begins to tremble very slightly. "I...I'm Sael'iana. My brother's missing, and with the boy who died - the one who fell? - I just thought someone should look, but the other detectives and the Watch, I just --" She chokes off a sob, composes herself, and faces the group as proudly as she can muster. "I need a detective. I need Dwight Hartigan."
It's a mystery game, too, guys. You might have to take notes. :P
At any rate, here's how the game goes: Continue to talk to Sael'iana if you please, and maybe decide whether you want to take a second case. This isn't part of the potential Away Team game I talked about, this is part of your game proper.
Y'all know that Murders are solved within the first 48 hours or not at all most times. Also, the last two murders were five days apart, and it's been three days already since the most recent murder. This all means that you have a game-based time limit to stop what might be the next murder (but not on the adventure as a whole, just on potentially stopping the next murder).
You're also all officially involved in a Skill Challenge. Main skill is Streetwise, from which you can actually unlock other skills to use. Streetwise can earn you 5 successes before you need to look other places.
A successful History check may also reveal some knowledge of the victim, the place, so on and so forth. Limit 4 successes.
If you look for something specific, you may offer to try to use Arcana, Perception, or Religion. They may grant a success or simply a bonus to your next challenge. You're looking for 10 successes before 3 failures. Tell me what you're looking for (add some fluff to it like "asking around casually on the street" or "calling on old customers" or something like that) and then roll away!
Your DCs for all skills are 14 (I know it's non-standard, but half of you can roll a god damn 2 and beat the standard DC) until Success Number 5, at which point they jump to 18.
Each failure consumes 2 hours of time, each success consumes 1. After you talk to the dame, you may have another job going simultaneously...and maybe an opportunity to learn more about your main case. Who knows? It's a mystery.
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"Why yes, I'm Detective Hartigan," He bows slighty, indicating that he understands she of a nobel birth. He softly reachs around back of her, the recipt in his hand he passes it off to Vered mouthing the words, "What do you make of this?". Motioning the eladrin to step into his office, "If you'll excuse me for just one second, I have to talk to my friends. I'll be right in, please take a seat, and make yourself at home." Closing the door behind the woman he quickly steps over to the phone and begins to make some calls to his old friends,
"Hey, it's me. Yea I don't have a lot of time. Look I got an Eladrin here, real knock out, fancy clothes but not too flashy. Name's 'Sael'iana', what do you know about her?", Dwight nods as his friend starts talking to him, "Uh huh, yea, ok, ok. Got it, thanks"
As she spoke Madam Eva simultaneously, and apparently without any close attention, shuffled her deck and separated a specific Suite before placing a three-card spread before herself. The fortune-deriver took note of the Brass Dwarf and the Teamster, each worryingly misaligned, but made no outward comment of them as she returned the cards to her apparently habitual shuffling.
After a minute or so more of mild small-talk, Rievakari abruptly leaned closer to the Eladrin and examined her closely for the effect her next few sentences would have.
"Your brother. He was involved in something out of his class, an external element compelling him down a worrying path. You have come to Detective Hartigan because you fear that he was not invulnerable to the forces that he was involved in.
Is this not so?"
OOC: This isn't strictly one of the skills mentioned by the DM, but somebody's got to try to draw more details out of the only 'witness' so far, even if she was only witness to a disturbing habit pattern that makes her thoughts turn to "I need a private detective" after a few-day's disappearance of a sibling. I could also try Diplomacy or even Bluff if desired, but the results would be roughly the same.
The idea is to try to see through the witness's facade and discern a glimpse of what she's not yet telling us. Like most good fortune-tellers, Rievakari is at least something of a therapist/psychoanalyst at heart.
Hmm... residuum and rat poison, eh? Now, which low key establishments in Sharn sold residuum & rat poison at these kind of prices?
Clank:
The body was ushered away by the Watch before Hartigan could get anything meaningful, besides he fled that scene after he stole evidence. The blood had even been cleaned off the street, and that taxi that it landed on was nowhere to be found. You could, theoretically, try to bully your way into the morgue and take a closer look at it. I hadn't thought about that, but improv may be a lot easier on PbP since I have more time to generate monsters. You could even do that without Hartigan and the crew, if you wanted to. During the skill check, there's no reason not to split up a little bit...unless you get in a fight when you get there...eh? eh? Decisions! It's up to you guys.
Vered:
Residuum is a common enough purchase, and you buy it nearly constantly. The strange, powdery material is a key component in nearly every decent piece of high-quality artificing a fellow can engage in. No price listed on the residuum, but the script of the receipt looks tantalizingly familiar, and you get the sense that it could be one of your competitors - another of the dealers of the unsavory and dangerous that dot the lower and middle city.
The rat poison - arsenic - is rather particularly more telling. Listed at 10sp per box, it probably wasn't rat poison at all. Pure, undiluted arsenic dressed up as arsenic is more likely. An extremely common component in poisons. It's also an anticoagulant. Riedran terrorists and other crazy cultists sometimes coat their clockwork bombs in the stuff so that their victims bleed faster. Overall, the list is a recipe for disaster, and not the sort of thing you would expect a political activist to have been carrying around.
You have two guesses about the sort of unscrupulous wholesalers the group could press for more on this: Javin Bemiin, a distempered githyanki in the lower city, or the shifter everyone in your circles just calls Westerman, who operates in the upper city. Either may recognize the handwriting on the receipt and might remember who they would have sold both arsenic and residuum to.
Sterling: Your check was regarding Sael'iana, so since it wasn't about the main line for the skill proper, it can give you some serious information about her, but no SC success.
Rievakari:
Sael'iana watches the card with the small play of a smile gracing her face, hiding the worry and consternation that seemed to have taken permanent residence there. "There was a Weird Sister who played in our troupe in the upper city. She was a wonderful person. I learned a lot about the Cards from her, but your deck is different. Why is the dwarf upside -"
When you suddenly lean forward and ask about her brother, the smile trembles, and tears well in her eyes. "He...His name is Tellarin. Schooling at the University is expensive, particularly for nobles. I've been helping pay his way. Our parents are dead, you see, and the trust fund that House Kundarak keeps for us - well, they won't let us take out more than the contract allows, and it's not enough. And he doesn't fit in there. The other noble boys are all very into the nightlife...Tellarin said he had gotten a job, something to make it easier on me. He was busy, always distracted, but then, two nights ago he just --" She begins to sob ferociously and drops her face into her hands. The crying is genuine, but you think it might be slightly embellished out of an actress' habit toward her craft.
Hartigan enters the office and shuts the door quietly, raising an eyebrow at Rievakari as the strange woman quietly comforts the eladrin beauty. She seems to quiet her sobs as the detective makes his entrance and hands the eladrin his handkerchief. Before he can speak, she clears her eyes and looks at him and Rievakari imploringly.
"I appreciate your hospitality, Weird Sister, I do. And, Detective, I'm sorry to barge in like this. Madam Eva told me you were already talking about the boy who died last week, and I know you're smart enough to figure the man who died not too far from here - Baldrin? - that he may have been wrapped up in it, too. I didn't know Baldrin, myself, but people I work with have heard things about him. Now my brother is missing, and everyone I ask tells me people go missing in Sharn all the time, especially University kids, but Tellarin isn't like that! He has a job! He's a good student. No one will believe me when I say that I know - I just know - he's in real trouble. The last time I was at his suite near the university, it looked like he hadn't been there in days. He's missed almost a week's worth of classes. I just need someone who knows what they're doing to look for him. Please say you'll help. You're my only hope."
Status:
You earned a Streetwise Success (1 of 5)
You earned a History Success! (1 of 4)
I hope I'm not playing too fast and loose with you guys. If you'd like more structure, let me know and I will do all I can to accommodate.
Vered scrutinizes the script on the receipt. Looks like it was issued by either Javin Bemiin or Westerman... so which of those two did his gut think they should go to first?
Bemiin's hole in the wall is closer. May as well hit his place first.
He discreetly shuffles over to the closed door to Hartigan's office, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation happening on the other side. An Eladrin looking like that doesn't just drop on by a small time operation like Hartigan's when they've got real problems.
Something didn't smell right.
Insight: 1d20+6 15 - Check to see if I can tell how honest our new prospective client is being
"So I've decided that I shall take your case, but I am going to have to ask you a couple of questions, just to help me ferret out some clue you might not know that you know. Your brother, the one at the University, what is his full name? Does he have any nicknames he goes by? Did he say where he worked for this job? Any friends or classmates he mentioned, in particular? Either good or bad I need to know. Do you have a photo or a sketch of him that I could borrow, just until the investigation is over, seeing a face will generally spark someone's memory more than a name. You said you met at his suite, do you have a key that I can use to get in and have a look around? Don't want anyone to think the detective you hired is a burglar! Also one last thing, before I take a breath so you can answer the questions, you said that people you work with said they heard things about Baldrin...if that's so, and your brother might be involved I will need to know the names, addresses, and best time to visit those people."
List of Questions for easy reference:
1: Your brother, the one at the University, what is his full name?
2: Does he have any nicknames he goes by?
3: Did he say where he worked for this job?
4: Any friends or classmates he mentioned, in particular? Either good or bad I need to know.
5: Do you have a photo or a sketch of him that I could borrow
6: You said you met at his suite, do you have a key that I can use to get in and have a look around?
7: You said that people you work with said they heard things about Baldrin...if that's so, and your brother might be involved I will need to know the names, addresses, and best time to visit those people.
"She lies of her nobility and is withholding some knowledge of her brother's activities, likely out of embarrassment. That is all that I have seen thus far. I wish to see the bodies of the two current victims, and I feel that Clank likewise would find that a more useful dispensation of his time."
In the physical realm, Rievakari turned and smiled warmly at Sael'iana once again.
"You are in capable and discreet hands. If you wish to see the best possible outcome to this affair, I will only ask that you speak freely of every detail that could be at all significant. I must now go.
By your leave, Detective?"
She rose and nodded to Clank.
A passing effort at making the witness more likely to speak honestly.
OOC: Yeah, I'd like to split and hit the street as well. Maybe Clank and Rievakari can go double-team the angle of the victim's bodies, for extra assurance. I bet an Arcana check on a Dragonmark could yield interesting results.
It's worth noting that Rievakari's Telepathy allows for two-way communication if those she speaks to wish it.
Vered steps away from the door to the office as he hears the conversation breaking-up, glancing over to the blue shardmind.
"I've got a hunch about something. Wanna tag along with me to ask a... buddy of mine a few questions?"
At Rievakari's nod, Clank begins to follow the fortune-teller out of the office. As they hit the street, he motions to her to follow him. "Lets try the morgue. One of the attendants there is at the Rose most evenings, and may be...pliable."
Mos Nasam steps out office with Vered and they head to wherever Bemiin has sequestered himself.
"Best dog rockets this side of Sharn."
Off to the shakedown.
This campaign is already boss.
"My thanks, but I would be remiss in point out that it cannot intake anything."
"By the way... it has been so, so curious... how does it feel to be... hollow? It does not hurt?"
I would imagine that it would be fairly easy going to get to Bemiin's - most people would probably stop to gawk and stumble out of the way from a blue walking dragonshard.
Vered just pockets the other cigar.
"I don't really have a basis for comparison on how it feels being mostly hollow versus being mostly solid, so I couldn't tell you. Maybe I'm in total agony, but I'd never know because, well, that's how it's always been. This way."
The Deva leads the construct down a side street.
I'll just wait for direction from our GM before going much further. I'm not sure what he had in mind for Bemiin's place.
She takes a seat on the corner of the Detective's desk and smiles; the gesture is meant to be warm and sincere, but comes across instead as eerie and vaguely serpent-like. "Now that it is not so crowded in this room... perhaps Mr. Hartigan would like to ask more questions?" she suggests, glancing sidelong in his direction.
not having any social skills is laaaaame!
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Madam Eva stepped outside of the Detective's office into the Sharn evening, then turned to watch as Vered and Mos Nasam depart in a different direction. Finally she speaks, though naturally in a string of non-sequitor.
"I know a little of Roses. We would do well to protect ourselves against thorns. Always pick a rose by moonlight, for they are hopeless romantics and will only then accede to your touch without complaint. Fortunately, the City has seen fit to give us just such a nocturnal illumination.
Please lead the way, Clank."
Also, new picture update until I manage to stop being lazy and start coloring it:
Slick picture, by the way.
EDIT: Better picture:
Sael'iana looks down at her lap, wringing her hands and seeming to consider her words long and hard before she speaks again. "He was registered as Tellarin ul-Maven. It's not our real surname. Forgive me, Detective but...there are some things I can't say. You understand I hope. A girl has to have some secrets. I've always called him Tellarin, but I imagine his friends call him Rin. It's what he used as a young boy. He didn't fit in very well at all in the university. He was studying artificing, you see, but he's a musician at heart. Tellarin always told me that most kids who study arcanum at the Univeristy don't care for music or poetry or art. I can't think of a worse way to live." She lights up a little, and her smile is incredibly radiant, her open passion for performance immediately disarming. "'Artifice is all made, but art is born.' Our father said that once. So, no friends he talked about...the job..."
Your insight check tells you that's not true. You seem to remember it being a fairly famous quote from a human bard within the last hundred years or so. Being human, he wasn't likely their father.
She becomes visibly anxious and, removing her fine leather gloves, begins to nibble ever so slightly on her lower lip. "He said it wasn't strictly legal, but wasn't illegal either. Something about ribers and Ribald dealers. I told him I didn't like it because I didn't want him associating with those people, but he said it worked through the papers or something. He called it...damn it what was it." She looks up, shocked to hear herself swear, but seeing the way her propriety tugs a smile at the corner of Hartigan's mouth, she returns it with another one of her charming grins. "I don't know the work, precisely. He called it owning his own business, but he worked for another student's 'business.' I remember her name. Her name was Wessa. She was tiefling, I think. As for what he looks like..."
She produces from her purse a simple ghost image of the two of them (it's like a sepia tone photo but in blues instead of browns. Magic and shit) which could have been from a year ago or less - it's hard to tell with eladrin. She looks almost identical, but she's standing next to and laughing with a younger male eladrin with hair cut short for an eladrin, heavily tousled near the front but pulled into a semblance of a top-knot near the back. He's got rather prominent grease smears on his shirt and seems to have been threatening his older sister with the remains of whatever it is he was working on.
"When we met for launch last, he still wore his hair like that. He said it's practical for artificing, but I think it looks stupid. And those overalls - those ridiculous overalls. We could never meet up-city because he could never manage to dress himself well enough. The diners in the middle city are nice enough for me though, and I got to see him so --"
She stops as she realizes she's rambling, and you can see her throat tighten. "I'm sorry. It's just that every time I start talking about him, I catch myself assuming he's dead, like I'm trying to build up a wall in case...in case... well, the worst. I don't want it to be true, and I don't believe he really is. People go missing in Sharn, but they get found all the time, right? The Watch and the agencies always finds people who get lost in the Upper City and the Skyway. People get found."
She shakes her head, her wild blond hair splaying out as she does so. She grips it all in her hands and smooths it out with practiced ease, rearranging it instinctively into the carefully arranged drapery that makes her so alluring. "As for Baldrin...I work in the elite and political circles of the city. People talk all the time, but part of what I do is about discretion. I can't give you names, I'm afraid. One woman who had me demoing some gowns for her daughter complained about him at length, but I guess that shouldn't be a surprise since she was noble. Still, political stuff moves fast up-city, and I caught bits and pieces. It sounded to me like Baldrin was one of those democratic activists. I heard he thought that the district's representatives should be freely elected instead of delegates chosen among noble families to be voted on. His idea was that it winds up being a race to raise more money than the other Noble house in order to...what did he say the one time? "Chuck coin at the plebs to buy votes" I think it was. Anyway, he didn't have many friends up-city. Some people thought he was involved with the kind of apothecary rings that move the more dangerous kinds of Ribald - the powder kind - and that he may have been on their payroll anyway. Most upper class think that the city is constantly battling back the controlling influences of the -- " she stops herself mid-sentence as she seems to remember what level of the city she's on " -- unsavory people in the lower parts."
She fishes in her purse again and produces two items: one is a simple key that likely leads to Tellarin's suite, the other is a small coin pouch. "That's Tellarin's suite key. If you know where the University is, go clockwise through Tower Canyon toward the north end of the university, and you'll be in the Ivory Towers. Tellarin's apartment is on the Den'iyas side of the city toward the bottom of the upper levels. It's called Menthis Views - large, strangely shaped building next to an old temple that I think is part of a halfling enclave now? But I don't know. I see a lot of the friendly folk in and around there."
As your reach out of the key, she sets the coin purse on top of it. "And that's for being kind enough to listen to my craziness. Even if Tellarin shows up on his own - and even though my heart tells me you'll have to find him, I can still hope - you have that small down payment as my thanks."
It's 200gp. A rather significant down payment, indeed. See, I'm a great DM. I give you guys loot just for playing along.
You hear the vast majority of the conversation, occassionally missing words here and there which aren't hard to piece together, but she's either telling the truth or an exceptionally good actress, because without seeing her face and her body language, you can't hear any deception in her voice. It is weird that she'd come to a detective like Hartigan, but what mention you've heard of Ribald, which is popular drug used in a lot of recreational ways, makes you think that she's trying to avoid getting her brother into trouble if he is just lost. The other agencies and the Watch try to make examples of kids who fall in with drugs.
Vered & Mos Nasam (To Bemiin!):
You head down a side bridge with the gentle glow of the cogs nearly a mile below you radiating heat and light up into the darkening sky. Even though it's not quite seventh bell, it's quite a bit darker down here. Bemiin's place is at the end of the bridge, but you can already tell you may have called at a bad time. A pair of gith with blackjacks hanging from the belts cut you and Mos Nasam off on the bridge. One spits grotesquely at your feet and sneers (which looks absurd because their noses are already three quarters of the way up their heads)
"Oh, ain't this right as soot rain, Tran? The Purple People Penny Pincher shows up all not-announce-ed like and toting a --" He glances derisively at Mos Nasam "Well, whatever the hell that is. You lookin for a warm welcome, Kaboom? The last bit o' cannon you sold Bemiin nearly blew his arm off, you know."
The other gith laughs deeply, but it sounds like a weeze. You realize most of his already diminished nose is severely broken and a series of deep scars runs across his face. Another gith moves forward, this one brandishing a small steel bar that might pass for a weapon to anyone except an expert in weapons like Vered. "The kick of it all is that he thinks we give a damn if him or glowy winds up smoldering three miles down in hell's own assholes, huh, boys?"
The trio chuckles lightly, and each begins to brandish their weapons. "So, what it'll be, White-Washed? We gonna have us a tussle, or you and the walking glowstick goin' on your merry way?"
Don't worry guys. They're assholes, but you can take 'em. You can either decide to be diplomatic, intimidate them, or roll for initiative. If you opt to do the last, I'll throw up a wee map to play on. I promise you won't die because of a trio of punk gith.
Clank and Rievakari:
Moving through the morgue with an odd familiarity, Clank is intercepted by a small, corpulent dwarf: Cleg, the regular at Roses. "Oy! Whoa, oy there, big fella. Oim faer frem Roses 'ere, yeh sae? Yee canna be coom'n dahn 'round 'ere. Oi knah oim in a spoh a' deht to ye, but...well, Clanger, fella, yer..." he shrugs sheepishly. "Yer koind aint welcome ta beeeen thaes sort o' places." He seems to notice Rievakari and glances about hurriedly, making an ushering motion toward the much larger warforged bouncer and the odd kalashtar woman. "Nah, suhreus like, ye've got ta lehv meh be! Oi'll pay up o'er Roses before the week is ooht. Oi give ye me word," he says, placing a faux hat over his heart in a gesture that suggests his word hasn't ever been worth the price of the invisible hat he pantomimed with.
Everyone:
The second, less amicable version is where powder is boiled into a slightly viscous liquid and injected using syringes that artificers and the like normally use for healing infusions. This causes the same delirium, but it's also a powerful painkiller and a blood thinner. People have been known to "nod off" because of quasi-anemic side effects from Ribald injections. Ribnod is what most people call this method of using Ribald, for obvious reasons. It may have other effects that a Heal check could determine on a person under the influence.
The last, most dangerous version is the inhalation of the powder straight into the sinus cavities or oral ingestion. Ribbers, as they're called, have phases. Delirium is first, then an unexplained and uncontrollable lecherous state where addicts crave physical interaction, to the point of forcing themselves on members of the same or opposite sex, other species, even non-sentients. The next phase is powerful lethargy that borders on a coma-like state. Depending on the dose, a person can go through these phases several times while under the effects of the powder. Ribbers are also incredibly dangerous during their first two phases because of their tendency to view bodily fluids as fascinating and their drive to interact physically. Sometimes they just want to be hit, sometimes they want to hit things. They have to hit hard to even feel it because of the pain nulling effects of the drug. Addicts tend to develop twitches, cracks in their voices, and rashes across their upper lips. Tieflings' horns have been known to turn a yellowish color, while marking on other species (like a Deva's white patterns or a goliath's clan marks) tend to grow somewhat pallid. Heal checks can reveal more on those suffering under its affects.
And yes, I made all that up.
Status:
3 Hours have passed, leaving you with 45
(1 for each success, all the discussion, and the travel. So, given that, Rievakari, your phase shifts are totally acceptable. Red Powers won't truly recharge until an initiative sequence passes, though, folks.)
Mos Nasam and Vered have encounter some unpleasant gith (zerai and yanki) between them and their quarry.
Clang and Rievakari have encountered Mortician Cleg, who seems nervous to say the least.
Sterling and Hartigan are keeping The Lady company (almost used the word "Drilling" but thought that might be a little skeezy)
Again, I hope the fast and loose style isn't putting anyone off too badly.
A note on loot: I operate on Wishlists because Loot Parcels are a pain in the ass to come up with. You guys can PM me with items you'd like of levels 6 through 9. Normally I would require you to sell anything you don't want at the normal 20%, but Vered's back story makes that idea unfluffy...so if Vered can pass a DC I haven't determined yet, you may be able to sell that sort of thing for a more attractive price.
Vered pulls back the left half of his trenchcoat, revealing his ever-so-trusty Thompson sub-machine gun.
"You boys wanna dance, fine by me. I got the music right here."
The Deva instinctively tries to get himself between Mos Nassam and and the Gith goon squad as hedraws his weapon, unsure that the shardmind is equipped or trained for a street fight in the big city.
Standing up Hartigan takes the key and puts it safely into his pocket, he also takes the bag of gold and tucks it away as well. With all of his stuff already packed he grabs his back and ushers the lady out of his office, "Sterling I think you'd better come with me. We're going to the brothers place and I could use your eyes, hopefully you'll be able to keep your sword sheathed."
OOC: I'd like to keep talking with Sael'iana as we head towards the upper level, and the university. Also I'm totally down with the fast and loose style. If you ever do anything totally out of character, like randomly killing someone, I'll PM you but other than that it's all been groovy.
The following is assuming that it's ok to walk and talk with Sael'iana if it's not just let me know and I can modify it
As the trio leaves Dwight's office he double-checks that he has everything before heading to the upper level. Once he's sure he didn't forget anything he locks the office door and double checks that it is locked by trying to turn the handle.
"You gotta make sure you keep your goods locked up here...I have to ask, simply because it's been bugging me since you said it. You remember that quote your father said, 'Artifice is all made, but art is born'", he gets a grin as he looks up at from the door knob, "I seem to remember a human bard saying that exact thing...I believe he said it within the last 100 years. So, shall we try that again? And please don't lie to me again, I really hate liars...especially when they pay me so well to find their little brother..." his eyes get cold as he stares directly at Sael'ian "...that nobody has ever heard of."
"Hey Sterling, can you remember who said 'Artifice is all made, but art is born'? A name would be perfect right about now. Also can you ever remember anybody saying anything Sael'iana's brother? Cause I would love to be wrong right about that."
Regardless of this I think we should still check out the brothers place, and on the way there, after we have separated from the company of the lady Sael'iana Dwight is gonna find a contact to ask questions about the case and show the photo around. Not sure if we can, but if we have some way of contact the rest of the crew I'd like to tell them where we are going, I'd be willing to give 2 silver pieces each to send out messages from some service, or some other reliable way of contact people.
Also rolled a diplomacy and streetwise. Diplomacy just in case but shouldn't be needed since I'm not trying to intimidate, just gather info. Streetwise to find out more info on the brother's case from contacts after the three of us separate
Oh snap.
"'Artifice is made, but art is born'..." she repeats, musing in a curious tone of voice. It's the first sound she's made since they left the office; if it were not for Sael'iana shooting discomfited glances over her shoulder every minute or two to make sure that she was still following them, Sterling would be otherwise invisible. A laconic and subtle demeanor came in handy when you made a living being someone's shadow. "Mmm. His name is on the tip of my tongue..." The woman furrows her brow in thought...
... then she smiles again, in her uncanny way, and snaps her fingers. "I remember now."
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Shit about to be going down.
Edit: Do you think Sterling could make another history check to see if she remembers hearing anything about Sael'iana having a brother?
"Do not worry about it Mr. Vered. This is part and parcel of what it was made to do."
"Cleg, we both know that your account is already three weeks past due. Again, we both know this would normally require some unpleasant reminders of your obligations, but Mr. Rusvar has kept me quite busy. Another week? That would require some intense discussion indeed. You'd likely not be able to chew for some time, let alone walk..." He bends at the waist, lowering his face to the Dwarf's level.
"Still, there might be a way to avoid this. The lady and I wish to view some of your charges. Arrange this, and Mr. Rusvar may keep me busy for another week or so, otherwise" he rests his clawed hand lightly on the dwarf's shoulder "you make the top of the list."
"An Ill-fated Street Urchin and a Luckless Legislator each took a long fall, and thus wrote their warm names on the City's cold pavement. If you would be so kind, may we see them? We would like to ask them some questions."
While Cleg considered their generous proposal Rievakari rifled through a randomly-chosen cabinet and pulled free some documentation she thought might be useful, throwing open the manila folder on the cluttered table and picking apart it's contents.
"...I am ever so bad at reading official reports."
Trying to find something of interest to our investigation.
Cleg's eyes widen more with each heavy step of the warforged closing the distance between them, to the point of absolute absurdity. It's amazing his eyeballs don't simply pop out of his head. He glances back at the strange woman apparently complicit in whatever task the clinking construct has been assigned.
"Eh, heh, heh," Cleg laughs nervously, patting the taloned hand gently. "Were all friends 'ere, eh? Ye got a pal wound up 'orizontal-like or somethin'? Not likely we'd 'ave any'un from doon yer pahrts-" he glances warily at the clawed hand. "Y'know, weel, Oi s'pose ain't t' harm in lettin' ye poke about. Folla me."
He disengages quickly and goes thumping down the hallway and a few flights of stairs, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder to make sure you're still there. You finally come to a cold basement hallways with rows upon rows of heavy steel doors. Cleg sighs and for once the smell of barley and alcohol isn't the most noticeable aspect: you can see the mist of his breath cling heavily to the air. He grins, but there's no mirth in it.
"It's roight classy, eh? So, which'un moight be this frieend of yern?" He spreads his hands toward the hallway. "Oi canna be takin ye on the fuhl tuhr, moind, but Oi kin give ye t' rundoon. Arhg'nized ear'lest ta latest. Names will be on t' cases when ye step enside. Nah, moind ye don't hang 'round too long, Clank. Oi can be...accom'datin' ta an extent, ye ken? Up in moi'ffice shud ye need meh." He retreats hastily up the stairs, rubbing his shoulder and doing his best to present a smile for as long as the pair can see him.
As you enter the nearest door, you can see it's a small 20-square-foot room with a pair of simple operating tables in the middle with the House Jorasco seal on them. The walls are lined with doors of varying sizes containing the refrigerated remains of the recently deceased. It's eerily cold in here, with a strange fog clinging to the floor. You suspect that the blue dragonshard that's encircled in a complicated machine hanging amidst the room's only everburning lamp might be responsible.
You guys can locate Baldrin fairly easily by exploring a little bit, but his name may not on his case since he had an aberrant dragonmark somewhere on his body. The case may be intentionally mislabeled or locked to protect him or his identity. Perceptions rolls at a DC16 will handle it, and dungeoneering at a DC14 can help you determine if something has been faked in a sentient-constructed location. The case will be locked, and it's a dc 12 Thievery to open it. I tell you this so that I won't hold you up. You might also be able to break it using an Athletics check: two DC12s or one DC18. More about the body when you find it.
Each time you fail at any of the rolls, it will consume fifteen minutes of game time. Meaning that time's a ticking.
Rievakari switched to intimidate for this part, but Clank blew it out of the water, so...it's taken you about an hour to make your way down here. If you want to switch to another phase, that's fine, but if you're doing that, try to use that sequential progression that Cosmic Sorcerers are wont to.
Ehrveryone else: stay tuned. More for Sterling/Dwight next [you may want to be careful. If something untoward happened to her real or not real brother, maybe you're not the only ones looking into it], and then we'll hand Mos Nasam and Vered's minor combat.
"No name. And by the gathered frost, filled out of sequence. Baldrin is likely within."
Clank takes the lock in hand, turning this way and that. Apparently arriving at the optimal angle, he brings his other claw down swiftly, striking it at a barely visible seam. The lock shatters, the remnants littering the floor beneath Baldrin's case.
Secondly, Im going to be away much of the day - having people over for the real life game I'm dming, and probably some Arkham horror.
But in case my character comes up in the fight... which I assume Ill probably go first with that initiative roll, heres what I will be doing. In case the Gith go first and step up on me, I would shift away one and do the same thing.
1d20+10: 27 vs. Will
Assuming that hits,
2d10+12: 28 psychic damage and the Gith perp takes a -4 to all defenses until the end of my next turn.
Hope thats all kosher!
"This mortuary reeks of the unfulfilled fates of those within. It is... more painful to have come here then I had thought. Ah, there you are."
She indicated a vault that had an unusual little brass lock on it. Although clearly of decent quality, the lock didn't stand out too much from other details of the room but for the tiny inscription of a Kundarak locksmith's trademark around the keyhole.
"We will need this one opened."
She continued down the rows of cold steel slabs, muttering darkly to herself all the while.
Anyway, I suppose that I had better switch over to the next cycle (One forward from the Moon [2] is the Stars [3]) for the needed bonus to this next Perception check so that Clank can get to tearing that vault open (since neither of us is any good at Thievery). Kind of sucks that we'll be leaving an obvious trail like that.
Perception roll went here, but I've stolen it for the new post
Is the kid in here as well, or is it futile to go searching for him?
Rievakari began perusing the steel vault-like doors immediately upon Cleg's introduction to the morgue, ignoring the rest of the dwarf's speech. Her earlier smile had disappeared completely as they had descended to the chilly basement.
"This mortuary reeks of the unfulfilled fates of those within. It is... more painful to have come here then I had thought. Ah, there you are."
When Clank identified and then smashed open the necessary slab, she sighed heavily and wheeled over a table to deposit the body onto. She wrinkled her nose at the body that they together deposited onto an operating table, but otherwise handled the scene with surprising stoicism. The fortune-teller examined the pitiful remains of Baldrin Remstin carefully, then produced from a pocket a small mystic focus which consisted of twined thread around a completely non-descript lodestone. Holding it clenched in her two hands before her and closing her eyes, the Mystic went to work.
"The Sublime Sight would of course be much more effective had there been less tampering with the victim... but the aura he possesses is strong, strong indeed. I will be done here momentarily..."
Anyway, I suppose that I had better switch over to the next cycle (One forward from the Moon [2] is the Stars [3]) for the needed bonus to this next Perception check.
Examining the body:
Perception + Star cycle feat bonus: 1d20+6 22 as well as looking for other clues (the child's body?) in the morgue.
Arcana; Sensing Aura and identifying the Dragonmark: 1d20+10 29