A krak-krak-krak! is heard from Kren'cha, batting his mandibles together. You realise it's a sign of laughter.
"The sad thing is, you're right, Officer Emmahk. Bigoted oppression has always been around and it's going to stick around if we don't stop it," the Inspector swivels back to face you all. "However that's for another time. Darkseeker you make a good point. Let's think about this, put our collective cranial capacities together."
The Thri-Kreen slowly stands up once more, pulling the blinds closed, moving around the room as he switches off lanterns two by two. Once he returns to his desk he pulls out a parchment tube and cracks it open, two blank rolls of paper falling out in front of you. As he lights a nearby lamp, he begins tugging at a leather cord around his neck. Kren'cha reveals a small crystal embedded in a glossy scale, which shines in direct contrast to his mottled and scarred appearance.
"Marshalls Feld and Seran, you two have been partnered for nearly three months as a duo directly plucked from your original precincts as part of the Rail Safety Initiative," he clicks very matter-of-factly. As he does so, he places the crystal on the papers and focuses, allowing ink to slowly spread in a neat yet narrow scrawl of handwritten sentences and blocks. You realise these are Watch documents. "These are your original manifests for such an assignment. Only department heads hold such documentation. As part of the protocol we have you report only to envoys, who then speak with Warrant Officers stationed at your original garrisons, who then contact me directly. Force communication through tight channels, only with the most trusted personnel. Keeps things neat and nice. A year ago I pushed for a program like the RSI. Under such circumstances I wish I never scratched the proverbial lamp."
The Inspector notices Riela and Feld's confused and startled faces. Beforehand you two had never encountered the head of the Marshalls, believing it to be a City Council decision that was a more open affair within Watch circles. The fact that it is such a heavily guarded unit, and that the head of such a unit is candidly revealing himself, surprises and worries you.
"That's the way things are, now. The whole damn thing's corrupt from top to bottom and we don't know if we're fighting ourselves or our shadows," the insectoid sighs, drumming two minuscule claws against the wood of his desk. "And I won't lie, if it weren't you two I wouldn't even be having this discussion or revealing such information. Fact of the matter is, too many good non-human officers are dying and I need more people on my end of the line in the sand.
"Six months ago the killings started. Isolated events. No real pattern except that they were Watch guards. People were angry, you probably remember your garrison heads giving seminars and briefings on the issue. However the second the pattern emerged, that they were all non-human, the issue was swept under the rug. The Sharn Inquisitive clammed up, independent news stopped issuing warnings to citizens, and you all went about your day. Then it started again, this time on the trains. Again no real pattern, seemed like robbery and you all believed it. Except for one thing," at this, Kren'cha pulls out a map, knocking over files off his desk to spread it out completely. He holds it in place with three, spindly limbs while using his fourth to point at the district outlines of Sharn. "Each train hit ended up in Menthis Upper, Lower, and Middle. All of them had been re-routed to do so. Conductors were restrained and engineers and artificers onboard knocked out-cold. Same case with your train. The papers only mention when eye-witnesses say the attacks began, but never where the trains stopped finally. Myself and a few others could tell this was too clean, too organised..."
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld shudders. This level of conspiracy...he only ever heard it spoke of by cranks back home, or people who would disappear soon after speaking a word too many. He had an inkling of how deep and twisted things got, but this is a bit much for Feld.
Even through her impassive, disciplined mask, Riela looks troubled. Her brow knits reflexively, and she shifts on her feet. "... does the Watch have any leads, sir?"
"The Watch as a whole couldn't care less. In the one afternoon of you rescuing yourselves from damn imminent death through what I can only imagine to be a combination of sheer luck and skill, you've made more headway than anyone else has," the Inspector pauses for a brief, morose second. "That anyone else has wanted to."
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
"Jehosaphat!" Feld exclaims, then coughs. "Sorry, sir. I'm just shocked by this whole mess."
Holly stands, visibly annoyed at the news being handed over.
"So, what were we bait? Or is this just happening by sheer luck and you were hoping two under cover agents would be able to learn something while you kept feeding the 'others' into the grinder? Ends justify the means and all that? Because if that was your grand plan, I don't have a hard time seeing why you're having such a hard time winning this."
"You think I authorised primarily non-human contingents of guards to go on purposefully dangerous suicide missions!" The Inspector throws the entire bowl of rocks at his door with a thick crash!"You think I wanted this! I am one damn insect, a drone, in an organisation of hundreds who have maroon adhesive strips stuffed so far down their ears, I'm pretty sure their lower intestines are deaf! I authorised two officers working directly under me to help figure this out, the rest of you were just unlucky to be on a train targeted for whatever reason!
"That's the infernal truth of it all as well, we don't even know how they're picking the trains. We assumed people like Davin might be the tip-off, internally planted agents, but then we have whole groups comprised entire of races other than humans being killed. We can't pinpoint a damn thing!" After a long moment of silence, Kren'cha goes over to pick up a new pair of rocks. "Do you really want to know the grisly truth? The reason the Watch has been hiring new stock from all walks of life is because they think they can draw out suspects that way. They think by giving a steady job to non-human races they can draw out attention like this and find the culprit. You were all bait, I'll admit. I just wasn't the one to put you on the god-forsaken hook."
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld briefly entertains the thought of handing in his badge, but thinks better of it. He'll risk his life to prevent the loss of others', and then he'll focus on going home when this is finished. "Do we have a list of passengers, a manifest, anything along those lines?"
"Plenty. Nothing conclusive yet. The only reason I can imagine that they're sending the trains to Menthis is..." Kren'cha puts down his two rocks, clicking his mandibles in thought. "Me. I'm head of guard movements and operations here. And one of the few non-human ones, too. The only one to be named head of three separate departments. That the public know of.
"I'm going to stop this. I made a promise I would, and damn hell it will be seen to the end. I've recently gotten approval for another task force from Chief Snyder, he's supportive of my actions and those of the dozen or so willing to help. This is going to be dangerous, this may cost your lives. You're going to be sent into some serious situations I never dared thought of sending any officer into. However after today you all proved yourselves trustworthy, and smart enough to handle any problem. And frankly even if you weren't I can't be picky, another half a dozen pair of hands can really tip the scales. How do you all feel about being part of this?"
"I can't speak for anyone else here, but I need some time to think about this. I know danger is part of the job, but something like this isn't quite what i imagined when I signed up." Holly tries to calm herself down some as she speaks.
"I'm not going to tell anyone about what just happened, but I can't very well sign up to something of this magnitude in this state."
"I'm in." The unusually quiet Oristok takes a step forward, "I came to this city for some idealistic things, to prove something to myself, and that got shoved into the dirt almost the moment I entered city limits. I put that aside, but I think I can do what I came here for now." He sighs deeply, rubbing the brow of his nose, "I've been to war, sir, and I guess I never thought I'd have to go again, but if this is how I can help: I'm more than willing to jump back into the fire."
"I understand completely, Marshall. Stay behind once everyone has made their decisions and left. If anyone else has any pressing quandaries, wait outside and I'll speak with you individually."
OOC:
If any private information has to be discussed with Kren'cha you can send me a PM or if you feel confident enough discuss it here but within properly labelled spoiler tags.
"Feld," Riela begins, pivoting slightly to address her partner. "Does this concern Marshal business that I would need to be privy of, or is this a personal matter?"
AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld glances at Riela sheepishly. "Nothing you or the other guards here need to worry about, in any capacity related to our duties, or otherwise. I've done nothing but trust you while we've been partners, and I hope that you share that thought process regarding me."
Riela blinks, once, and nods her head. "Of course." She pivots back in the direction of Kren'cha, and salutes. "Inspector, sir: may I request that Private Faris direct me to the barracks? I'd like to get back in uniform."
"Of course, Marshall Seran. In fact, just head down to the ground level, make a left and head down that hallway until you see signs guiding you to the requisition offices and lockers. They'll be in the same area," Kren'cha takes a quick moment to scribble on a piece of parchment, handing it to Riela. "You have my personal permission to take what you need, within reason, from the office. This should get you past any velvet ropes. As for you two."
A claw is directed at Feld and Holly with an audible clack!
"Darkseeker, I don't blame you for hesitating. Hell, I commend your honesty, but we need every able body if we want to put a stop to this. For the time being, though, have a drink. Talk it over with the others, or yourself even. Head down, just outside the towers around the block you'll find our local watering hole: The Rusty Badge. Officers receive free room and board for a few nights, at most," Kren'cha scribbles down another note, his quill bent and deformed in many different ways, belying how much he uses the tool. "If you need me, hand this to the barkeep and he'll send a runner over. Now Feld, you want to talk poultry? Then let's pluck the feathers and strip this bird clean already. We'll discuss matters once the others have left."
"It would seem we have not yet earned the Marshall's trust," Emmahk says, a wry look on her face. "Shall we take our leave, then?" She opens the door and steps out with a slight bow to the Inspector.
Holly nods, "Thank you Inspector" and heads outside trying her best not to flip a desk on her way out of the building.
Once outside she takes a few deep breaths and goes for a walk, eventually ending up at the cop bar, though not feeling any safer than she would at any other bar now.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld stands awkwardly, waiting for the rest of the team to leave. When they do, he breathes in, and starts speaking in vague words that he hopes can't be interpreted by eavesdroppers.
"Sir, you are aware of my background history, yes? How I'm an expert at infiltrating and observing and such, and just how I'm able to do so?"
The Thri-Kreen leans back in his chair. He does so with no finesse or practised ease, his body all too straight as he struggles to perform such an easy task. You get the feeling 'relax' is not a word Kren'cha has ever heard of, or understands.
"Marshall, if what you're hinting at is your skill-set and certainly...advantageous abilities that lie within your heritage then yes," the Inspector says, his low humming voice dropping down another octave as he leans in closer. "Another reason why you were picked for this program and the Marshall one, as well."
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld sucks in some air, hesitation in his eyes. "Okay. I'm on board, wary as this whole situation makes me. I confess, I don't understand how I got partnered with Riela, she is a damn good Marshall but that's another angle that has me worried. I'll get out of your..." Feld bites his tongue, realizing just what he was about to say. "I should go. Thank you for actually informing us about what's going on, I'll see if I can't get to the bottom of this. When this is over, if this truly ends, I'm planning on a change in career. Until then, every ounce of effort I can muster's going into solving this."
"I hope you get to see retirement, Feld. I really mean that," Kren'cha quietly says, a solemn and genuine nod given your way.
However as he does so, you notice a piece of parchment subtly placed within one of his drawers. A report, it looks like, but you cannot see any further once it is out of your view. A long day has been had, new revelations have been made, a startling discovery and new allies gained as well as new enemies hinted at. The next morning should bring clarity of thought and some obvious pathway for you. Unfortunately deep in the pits of all your stomachs, you have a feeling of unease, as if sunrise is no longer a certainty but a possibility. Mood: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z41ouA9Ja9U
OOC:
Excellent work everyone. Seriously, you all exceeded my already high expectations with the roleplaying and I am so glad to have you all onboard. Give yourselves another 40XP, as a DM's way of thanks. Now with where this campaign can lead you have many different choices. The two main ones are of course: Discuss amongst yourselves and drink at the bar, or we skip to the next morning after an extended rest and see where this can lead. Currently, you are all still acting guards of the Watch, however you are now directly tied to Warden Towers and no longer your previous precincts. Kren'cha is your direct superior as he'd like to keep a close eye on you, with good reason! You're the only guards to have survived the attacks so far, now you might have an even bigger target over your heads.
Whatever choice you make, you may also talk about it in the OOC thread. Once you've reached a consensus, let me know and we shall continue once preparations have been made.
Holly slides up to the bar, once she got the barkeep's attention points to a middle shelf whisky, then a pint glass, then herself expecting him to know the drill as she slumps into her seat.
"well, at least today turned out better than it could have" she says to no one in particular.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld looks for a dim corner of the bar to listen in on things covertly. He'll socialize if someone comes up to him, but he's busy thinking about the day.
No sooner has Feld slid into his booth than Emmahk suddenly squeezes in on the other side, causing the items on the table to clatter loudly. She smiles, clasping her clawed hands in front of her.
"My good Rail Marshall," she begins, amiable. "I must apologize for my boorishness in following you, but I feel that if we are to work together in the future, we must first establish a certain rapport, don't you? And there is no better time to be sociable than the present."
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
"Sounds good, Emmahk, though I'm in the middle of scoping something out." Feld whispers. "This is not intended to be rudeness on my part, but I always like to determine the atmosphere of a bar before I get comfortable."
The dragonborn leans in, causing the booth to creak and groan. She glances around conspiratorially. "Oh! I'm sorry, I had no idea you were in the midst of an investigation. Pay me no mind, you'll barely know I'm here," she whispers, returning to a proper sitting position.
The Rusty Badge. it's an old donkey of a place, lanterns outside to draw attention towards its hearths and ales and away from the dingy appearance of it all from the facade. Inside, past the timber doors which you notice look to be recently replaced, the place resembles an old country tavern. Guards from all outfits and creeds sit and drink amongst each other or by themselves. A few seem to be out of uniform, but you can still tell they're part of the Watch, while a few others look to be merely civilians who've stopped for a nightcap. The drinks flow freely and the bar is jam packed, off to the side a band plays some soothing, yet altogether buzzing tunes that keep the air jovial and lively yet not rambunctious enough to cause a stir.
As Holly and Feld nod to each other, splitting paths for the time being, the barkeep calls over the Tiefling.
"Good day shiela! Or night, should I say. Lotta roight barmey folks in 'ere. Gods' truth you can barely 'ear yaself think!" You get the feeling this bartender is not from around here. His skin is deeply tanned, despite the cold season, a mop of shaggy yet clean bronze hair falls from his head, coming just past his tasteful yet boy-ish scruff of stubble. A grin which you're sure is the primary light-source for the bar is shone directly at you. "'Nuff of me gabbin' on though. Wot'll it be?"
Meanwhile as Feld sits down in the corner, at a small booth for four, something catches his eye. It's a simple man, dressed in a neat, auburn leather jerkin, with a fine cloak and practically manicured boots. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but that's the thing. In a bar like this where everyone has a personality you can hear and see from across the room, this man sticks out so obviously because he seems to be trying to blend in. The cloth fedora that doesn't quite match his gear is a sore sight as well, but he's since taken it off and placed it on the table beside him. Even as Emmahk barges in, it doesn't distract the keen eye of the Marshall.
Perception:
The way this man wears his gear is indicative of two things: He's new to the whole reconnaissance thing, and if he's in a bar wearing something as conspicuous as that damn hat, he obviously thinks he's some sort of private eye. No doubt he's a rookie inquisitive on the prowl. His equipment and clothing is also fairly new, no real scratches minus a few food stains here and there that have been clumsily cleaned up. Following his gaze you also notice him constantly peering at Holly, who's at the bar. Notes are taken every five seconds, yet he makes no attempt to hide this fact, having his pieces of parchment lazily strewn across the table, ambitious-looking quill out and furiously scribbling.
Yeah.
He has to be a wannabe-detective.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
"Follow my lead, Emmahk. I won't say you'll learn something, I will say you might have some fun."
Feld darts behind the gumshoe, and taps on his shoulder. "Ho there, friend. I see you've got your eyes on a certain lady."
Emmahk, towering behind Feld, leans slightly over the far smaller Rail Marshall and, with a look of innocent curiosity, inspects the suspicious man's notes.
"Oh? Oh h-ho! Why hello to you too my fine sir. And to you as well, mmm'lady," the fledgling and harmless public-more-so-than-private dick picks up his fedora, places it atop his head, and tips its brim towards Emmahk, before putting it down on the table again. Up close you notice how young this person is, poorly grown out stubble and bright eyes not yet tainted by the realities of city life your first clues. "Ah, yes. Maybe. I may have business to do with that devilish young female over yonder."
No doubt he has no clue you know each other.
"All part of a job, you see. For I am Rickerford Ramshackle, Private Inquisitive."
No doubt he has no clue a private eye does not reveal his name like that.
Meanwhile Emmahk is able to see his notes as young Rickerford is distracted by Feld's feigned interest. The scrunched up and messy parchment notes only show constant surveillance since two hours ago. It seems like every five seconds, the budding gumshoe just wrote down what he saw. Diligent, but unnecessary all the same.
Finally noticing the numerous jabs at the bottle of whiskey behind him the barkeep grabs the neck of it, flips the bottle over and catches it with his other hand before neatly making a smooth pour into said-pint glass for Holly.
"Tough day at the office, then, eh sheila? Well you can talk to me, ol' Bazza's the name. Baz for short. I'm from somewhere south, me ad took a job in the plains and when that didn't work out I came up here. Been travellin' all 'round. Seen stuff, did stuff, chundered twice as much stuff as those two stuffs combined. How 'bout yourself? Wanna talk about your day?"
Opening the door to the bar is like opening the door to utter madness almost, "Man, these people are loud! Better stick close to me Asteron, best you're not noticed." Oristok whispers to his familiar.
Looking and seeing Emmahk and Feld in the corner, Holly at the bar, and he decides to sit at the bar near Holly, faster service he mutters to himself.
He waves over the bartender, "Rum, if you've got it."
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edited February 2013
Feld pulls out a chair and sits down next to the private dick, and leans his chin on his fist, his elbow on the table. "Please, do go on. I'm something of a hobbyist observer myself."
Posts
"The sad thing is, you're right, Officer Emmahk. Bigoted oppression has always been around and it's going to stick around if we don't stop it," the Inspector swivels back to face you all. "However that's for another time. Darkseeker you make a good point. Let's think about this, put our collective cranial capacities together."
The Thri-Kreen slowly stands up once more, pulling the blinds closed, moving around the room as he switches off lanterns two by two. Once he returns to his desk he pulls out a parchment tube and cracks it open, two blank rolls of paper falling out in front of you. As he lights a nearby lamp, he begins tugging at a leather cord around his neck. Kren'cha reveals a small crystal embedded in a glossy scale, which shines in direct contrast to his mottled and scarred appearance.
"Marshalls Feld and Seran, you two have been partnered for nearly three months as a duo directly plucked from your original precincts as part of the Rail Safety Initiative," he clicks very matter-of-factly. As he does so, he places the crystal on the papers and focuses, allowing ink to slowly spread in a neat yet narrow scrawl of handwritten sentences and blocks. You realise these are Watch documents. "These are your original manifests for such an assignment. Only department heads hold such documentation. As part of the protocol we have you report only to envoys, who then speak with Warrant Officers stationed at your original garrisons, who then contact me directly. Force communication through tight channels, only with the most trusted personnel. Keeps things neat and nice. A year ago I pushed for a program like the RSI. Under such circumstances I wish I never scratched the proverbial lamp."
The Inspector notices Riela and Feld's confused and startled faces. Beforehand you two had never encountered the head of the Marshalls, believing it to be a City Council decision that was a more open affair within Watch circles. The fact that it is such a heavily guarded unit, and that the head of such a unit is candidly revealing himself, surprises and worries you.
"That's the way things are, now. The whole damn thing's corrupt from top to bottom and we don't know if we're fighting ourselves or our shadows," the insectoid sighs, drumming two minuscule claws against the wood of his desk. "And I won't lie, if it weren't you two I wouldn't even be having this discussion or revealing such information. Fact of the matter is, too many good non-human officers are dying and I need more people on my end of the line in the sand.
"Six months ago the killings started. Isolated events. No real pattern except that they were Watch guards. People were angry, you probably remember your garrison heads giving seminars and briefings on the issue. However the second the pattern emerged, that they were all non-human, the issue was swept under the rug. The Sharn Inquisitive clammed up, independent news stopped issuing warnings to citizens, and you all went about your day. Then it started again, this time on the trains. Again no real pattern, seemed like robbery and you all believed it. Except for one thing," at this, Kren'cha pulls out a map, knocking over files off his desk to spread it out completely. He holds it in place with three, spindly limbs while using his fourth to point at the district outlines of Sharn. "Each train hit ended up in Menthis Upper, Lower, and Middle. All of them had been re-routed to do so. Conductors were restrained and engineers and artificers onboard knocked out-cold. Same case with your train. The papers only mention when eye-witnesses say the attacks began, but never where the trains stopped finally. Myself and a few others could tell this was too clean, too organised..."
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"The Watch as a whole couldn't care less. In the one afternoon of you rescuing yourselves from damn imminent death through what I can only imagine to be a combination of sheer luck and skill, you've made more headway than anyone else has," the Inspector pauses for a brief, morose second. "That anyone else has wanted to."
"So, what were we bait? Or is this just happening by sheer luck and you were hoping two under cover agents would be able to learn something while you kept feeding the 'others' into the grinder? Ends justify the means and all that? Because if that was your grand plan, I don't have a hard time seeing why you're having such a hard time winning this."
"That's the infernal truth of it all as well, we don't even know how they're picking the trains. We assumed people like Davin might be the tip-off, internally planted agents, but then we have whole groups comprised entire of races other than humans being killed. We can't pinpoint a damn thing!" After a long moment of silence, Kren'cha goes over to pick up a new pair of rocks. "Do you really want to know the grisly truth? The reason the Watch has been hiring new stock from all walks of life is because they think they can draw out suspects that way. They think by giving a steady job to non-human races they can draw out attention like this and find the culprit. You were all bait, I'll admit. I just wasn't the one to put you on the god-forsaken hook."
"I'm going to stop this. I made a promise I would, and damn hell it will be seen to the end. I've recently gotten approval for another task force from Chief Snyder, he's supportive of my actions and those of the dozen or so willing to help. This is going to be dangerous, this may cost your lives. You're going to be sent into some serious situations I never dared thought of sending any officer into. However after today you all proved yourselves trustworthy, and smart enough to handle any problem. And frankly even if you weren't I can't be picky, another half a dozen pair of hands can really tip the scales. How do you all feel about being part of this?"
"I'm not going to tell anyone about what just happened, but I can't very well sign up to something of this magnitude in this state."
OOC:
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A claw is directed at Feld and Holly with an audible clack!
"Darkseeker, I don't blame you for hesitating. Hell, I commend your honesty, but we need every able body if we want to put a stop to this. For the time being, though, have a drink. Talk it over with the others, or yourself even. Head down, just outside the towers around the block you'll find our local watering hole: The Rusty Badge. Officers receive free room and board for a few nights, at most," Kren'cha scribbles down another note, his quill bent and deformed in many different ways, belying how much he uses the tool. "If you need me, hand this to the barkeep and he'll send a runner over. Now Feld, you want to talk poultry? Then let's pluck the feathers and strip this bird clean already. We'll discuss matters once the others have left."
Once outside she takes a few deep breaths and goes for a walk, eventually ending up at the cop bar, though not feeling any safer than she would at any other bar now.
"Sir, you are aware of my background history, yes? How I'm an expert at infiltrating and observing and such, and just how I'm able to do so?"
"Marshall, if what you're hinting at is your skill-set and certainly...advantageous abilities that lie within your heritage then yes," the Inspector says, his low humming voice dropping down another octave as he leans in closer. "Another reason why you were picked for this program and the Marshall one, as well."
However as he does so, you notice a piece of parchment subtly placed within one of his drawers. A report, it looks like, but you cannot see any further once it is out of your view. A long day has been had, new revelations have been made, a startling discovery and new allies gained as well as new enemies hinted at. The next morning should bring clarity of thought and some obvious pathway for you. Unfortunately deep in the pits of all your stomachs, you have a feeling of unease, as if sunrise is no longer a certainty but a possibility.
Mood:
OOC:
Whatever choice you make, you may also talk about it in the OOC thread. Once you've reached a consensus, let me know and we shall continue once preparations have been made.
"well, at least today turned out better than it could have" she says to no one in particular.
"My good Rail Marshall," she begins, amiable. "I must apologize for my boorishness in following you, but I feel that if we are to work together in the future, we must first establish a certain rapport, don't you? And there is no better time to be sociable than the present."
Mood:
The Rusty Badge. it's an old donkey of a place, lanterns outside to draw attention towards its hearths and ales and away from the dingy appearance of it all from the facade. Inside, past the timber doors which you notice look to be recently replaced, the place resembles an old country tavern. Guards from all outfits and creeds sit and drink amongst each other or by themselves. A few seem to be out of uniform, but you can still tell they're part of the Watch, while a few others look to be merely civilians who've stopped for a nightcap. The drinks flow freely and the bar is jam packed, off to the side a band plays some soothing, yet altogether buzzing tunes that keep the air jovial and lively yet not rambunctious enough to cause a stir.
As Holly and Feld nod to each other, splitting paths for the time being, the barkeep calls over the Tiefling.
"Good day shiela! Or night, should I say. Lotta roight barmey folks in 'ere. Gods' truth you can barely 'ear yaself think!" You get the feeling this bartender is not from around here. His skin is deeply tanned, despite the cold season, a mop of shaggy yet clean bronze hair falls from his head, coming just past his tasteful yet boy-ish scruff of stubble. A grin which you're sure is the primary light-source for the bar is shone directly at you. "'Nuff of me gabbin' on though. Wot'll it be?"
Meanwhile as Feld sits down in the corner, at a small booth for four, something catches his eye. It's a simple man, dressed in a neat, auburn leather jerkin, with a fine cloak and practically manicured boots. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but that's the thing. In a bar like this where everyone has a personality you can hear and see from across the room, this man sticks out so obviously because he seems to be trying to blend in. The cloth fedora that doesn't quite match his gear is a sore sight as well, but he's since taken it off and placed it on the table beside him. Even as Emmahk barges in, it doesn't distract the keen eye of the Marshall.
Perception:
Yeah.
He has to be a wannabe-detective.
Feld darts behind the gumshoe, and taps on his shoulder. "Ho there, friend. I see you've got your eyes on a certain lady."
"where you from anyway? I've only seen palefaces here in Breland. Well, as far as humans and elves go"
No doubt he has no clue you know each other.
"All part of a job, you see. For I am Rickerford Ramshackle, Private Inquisitive."
No doubt he has no clue a private eye does not reveal his name like that.
Meanwhile Emmahk is able to see his notes as young Rickerford is distracted by Feld's feigned interest. The scrunched up and messy parchment notes only show constant surveillance since two hours ago. It seems like every five seconds, the budding gumshoe just wrote down what he saw. Diligent, but unnecessary all the same.
Finally noticing the numerous jabs at the bottle of whiskey behind him the barkeep grabs the neck of it, flips the bottle over and catches it with his other hand before neatly making a smooth pour into said-pint glass for Holly.
"Tough day at the office, then, eh sheila? Well you can talk to me, ol' Bazza's the name. Baz for short. I'm from somewhere south, me ad took a job in the plains and when that didn't work out I came up here. Been travellin' all 'round. Seen stuff, did stuff, chundered twice as much stuff as those two stuffs combined. How 'bout yourself? Wanna talk about your day?"
Looking and seeing Emmahk and Feld in the corner, Holly at the bar, and he decides to sit at the bar near Holly, faster service he mutters to himself.
He waves over the bartender, "Rum, if you've got it."