@Elvenshae A personal friend of the Emperor? Pretty good I would say. At minimum you've heard that Sharpe used to be close to the Enpror but hasn't been seen at Court in quite some time. For more info, how you give me a skill check in in Int + Knowledge (History)? You can of course use a Background if it applies.
@ElvenshaeTomas knows that Inigo used to be at the forefront of the Empire's infrastructure expansion - designing bridges, dams, aqueducts, etc.. He was also fame for creating wonderous magic items such as a a sword that could purify all evil. It, unfortunately, worked too well and maimed the heroic Vitunati, a paladin in the service of the Empire. Unused to failure and chastising, Inigo turned to drink and became so disruptive he was expelled from the court. There was a rumor that Inigo had opened a new lab and was looking to return to the Emperor's good graces by developing a wand that could banish demons back to the Abyss. Tragically, these rumors must have reached the ears of the Diabolist, who sent clever demon servitors to kill Inigo, destroy the lab, then murder his lab assistants and entire family. If he did somehow inexplicable survive, that could be very bad news if the Diabolist knows...
"Sharpe? That name ..." The nobleman sits up, losing much of his insouciance in an instant. "Yes, I know of him. He was much in favor at court until, suddenly, he was not. I ..." He looks around paying actual attention to the other patrons in the tavern for the first time since he entered. "I will not say much more here, but that Sharpe was attempting to regain the Emperor's good graces in a most dramatic fashion. It would appear that he has not been successful."
Tomas realizes that, in his excitement, he has placed his right sleeve directly into a puddle of some strange mixture of grease, beer, and detritus, left over on the table from the previous night's celebrations. "Merde," he mutters, handing his wine glass off to a floating mote of blue light, and proceeding to make several arcane passes with his now-free left hand. The foreign matter is pulled from his shirt by a pair of motes, red, and he flicks it away dismissively. After float a short distance, the motes dissipate, and the noxious mixture falls to the reeds spread across the floor.
In a more private location, Tomas will share all he knows of the situation with the others.
BrodyThe WatchThe First ShoreRegistered Userregular
Finally armed and armored, with ornately carved plates covering the majority of his body, Bragg clanks back over and stands next to the table. "Well, sitting around here isn't going to do shit. Any thoughts on where to start looking?" His voice is slightly muffled the bevor that flared up around the lower half of his face, carved to resemble the lower half of a dragon face matching the Emperor's Seal. The other half of the dragon's face hung from Bragg's belt, a piece he rarely felt the need to don. However, now that he his armor on, it became clear that his mechanika arm was designed to resemble a dragon's, blending in fairly well with Bragg's famous dragon-motif armor.
"I will write your name in the ruin of them. I will paint you across history in the color of their blood."
Mikhail finishes his apple, and stares at the core for a second before a flicker of embers in his eyes reduces to core to ash in a flash. He crumbles the carbon and dusts his hands of it. Puck flutters around the group.
"I'll second Bragg's inquiry. Has our client provided anyplace, anyone, or anything to start this endeavor?" a sly smile and sarcastic tone creeps across his lips. "Or should I take some coin and employ a street wagon gypsy to divine our course?"
"I expect Elsa would have some manner of leads for us; we should probably go speak to her. Doing so may illuminate the conspicuous oddity of the nature of her request, as well."
"Respect? But that's why we tip so well! To get away with stuff like this!" Kirst was still all smiles as she dangled on her precarious perch, the chunks of bread she'd torn away already vanished. And, now that more food had arrived, she moved to properly tackle her prey. Her lower half went up and over as she tumbled across the partition, tucking and twisting in mid-air to land in a seated position on the table. Somehow what should have been a crash landing that topped over the table instead caused only the softest thud, the tray of food bouncing, bottles and glasses wobbling slightly.
The half-orc immediately began shoving bread and cheese into her mouth, mumbling something incomprehensible through all the crumbs she was shedding. And there's the official contact. Took long enough. She'd known for a while now, since the Prince's intermediary had contacted her. However, she could tell this kind of thing needed skills, contacts and finances she didn't have, so she'd further ingratiated herself to the group while waiting for one of them to get word of Sharpe's disappearance. It wouldn't have been long, the way some of them talked about their friends in high places.
Swallowing, she repeated what she hadn't properly spit out earlier. "Some of us work for a living, you know. Not everyone gets money from mummy and daddy, or poofs it out of thin air." Kirst stuck out her tongue petulantly, before filling her mouth with fruit, washed down with that miniature bottle of wine she'd reappropriated. "Mff, church? Count me out. I'd rather the gypsies. At least they're honest about their lies." More food began to be stuffed into pockets and pouches on her person, as she started to shift to a crouching position on the tabletop. "In fact, if he's some egghead, I bet I know where to look for books and scrolls and stuffed owls that have, you know, fallen off the back of a cart."
Kirst tumbled across the table, over or between the various items laid out, landing on her feet to loom over Tomas. "You guys love that kinda boring stuff, right, right? Eh? Right?" Each question was accompanied by a raise of her eyebrows, mohawk wobbling, as she elbowed the wizard in the side. She only stopped when she had to try to shoo the flittering Puck away from her. "Quit it, squirt!"
Puck flitters back to Mikhail's shoulder, if it had a face, it would surely be sticking its tongue out as what could only be described as a high pitched raspberry filled the air and the little sprite flared up. With a bit more exaggeration than needed Mikhail shoves his chair back and stands with an 'Humph!'. He grabs the spear and bridges it on his shoulders, while draping both arms across it. "Come my fellow co-hoards... time marches on and so should we, yes?" He saunters towards the exit. As he walks Molly comes out suddenly from the larder door nearly crashing into him and begins to tumble.
He swoops the spear over his and her head, catching her across the small of her back. For a second his face is rather close to hers. She immediately turns bright red. "Careful Molly... the lunch rush is no reason to cause an accident." he talks through his smile. She is quite taken aback for a second, before catching her self blushing and righting herself. Mikhail removes the bar of the spear from across her back and leans on it like a walking stick.
Geth roll 1d20+4+3 for 'Charming' (Oh brother...)
4 for CHA, and +3 for Child of the Elven Court. Because Mikhail has learned to swoon his fair share of court Debutantes. Dangerous, exotic and dashingly handsome. Right? Right?
Molly gives the brash young Mikhail an incredulous look as she rights herself and puts her hand on his chest to gently push him away . Bragg might find this whole act quite hilarious. Having bounced at the Never Ends Well and knowing Molly fairly well, he knows she used to be an adventurer. In fact, she might not have retired expect that she got pregnant and decided it would be irresponsible to be a single parent while risking life and death on the road. As they say, life was no longer just about Molly anymore. She has no regrets about it.
"Nice try, snake charmer," Molly chortles. "That might work better on blushing noble daughters, but not working women."
She turns to walk away, pausing for just a moment to look over her shoulder and size up Mikhail. She looks him up as if Molly were purchasing a side of hog at the market. She hugs her tray to her chest and turns her head forward. "I wouldn't say 'no' to a drink some night if you think you have the stones," she says casually to the wind, walking away with a bit more sash in her shay than usual.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The party arrives at the Lost Hope Mission, located on the corner of Griffin square and beneath the cliffs of the Temple district above. It is a modest hall, with a sign hanging above with the symbol of Pelor, god of the sun and harvest, emblazoned on it. As you approach from the square, you seem a very tall, easily six-foot three-inches, half-elven woman carrying a thirty-pound bag of barley in her arms with quite some difficulty. She is a robust young lady whose white and gold trim vestment do little to hide her wide hips and top heavy nature. Her platinum hair is combed over on of her right violet eye. Just before the door she drops the heavy sack and kneels to catch her breath. She wipes her forehead with her sleeves she glances over to the approaching party and smiles excited, standing back up to wave eagerly.
"Kasben," Elsa calls out excited. "It so good to see you! I'm glad you got my letter."
@ReynoldsSince you have little interest in visiting the Lost Hope Mission, why don't you tell me about where you're going, what you're doing, and give me an Icon roll.
I figure she'd go to the Bad Part Of Town and do some Streetwise stuff. Like finding people who might be stealing/fencing/selling academic/magic stuff. Maybe they sold stuff to and/or stole stuff from Sharpe. Or, if he had a house here or something, maybe someone cleaned it out after he disappeared.
Did anyone else want to come along?
Do I need to do all three rolls again? Or a particular one?
While Kasban and his sturdy ladyfriend get reaquainted Mikhail stands off to the side close to the temples marvelous statues of their god and other important figures to his portfolio. He sizes one of them up and stands beside it, mimicing the pose. "What do you think? I could pull off being a god." Speaking to everyone yet no one in particular.
"Peace unto your house and kin, Elsa." Kasben says, recalling automatically the greetings used among the residents of The Cathedral. "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, but I'm happy to help however I can. And my friends here are always keen on adventure."
Turning and gesturing to each of the remaining companions, Kasben introduces them. "Mikhail would never turn down a request from a lady, though sometimes I daresay his charisma gets him in trouble more than it serves his purposes. Tomas indicated privately on the way over here that he's at least acquainted with Inigo's works in the Empire, and has concern over the disappearance of one of this Age's greatest engineers; no doubt you've heard the rumors about his new project as well. And Bragg won't say no to even the remotest chance that he gets to knock some heads together. We've got another in our group, but they were...less enthused about visiting a holy place. But I figure some outside intel can't hurt either, so we'll meet up with them later. They're good people, though."
Kasben turns back to Elsa, interested in business but not oblivious to the current state of things. "We came hoping you could tell us more about Inigo's disappearance, but first thing's first - did you need any help with these supplies?"
@Reynolds Upon arriving in the Commons you quietly slipped away from your fellows to pursue your own agenda. Without a place to start from, you decide that perhaps the panhandler network might be your best beat. From corner to corner you move at a lackadaisical pace, only mildly interested in the task at hand but you never know - this Inigo guy might have something worth stealing. You drop a coin in each panhandler you meets plate, such is the price of admission but it wasn't your money to begin. Finally, after the fourth coin is deposited, a slip of paper has found its way into your palm with a location.
Returning to the Docks Ward you move to the warehouse district. It's there that you find your target unloading crates - Marcus Holt, a former mercenary. His shirtless form reveal a mess of tangled scars and tight sinews, extending to his face were one eye is clearly dead and his mouth is split open by scarring. He sees you grin at him with his one good eye.
"Ah shit..." he snears dropping the crate he is currently carrying.
The Crusader (Conflicted):
1d6 6 [1d6=6]
The Emperor (Negative):
1d6 5 [1d6=5]
Puck pokes Mikhail's cheek. "Hey," he whispers with a snicker, "you should try again with this one. It's the good girls that are the dirtiest, ya know?"
"Oh, no," Elsa says embarrassedly, hastily leaning back over to retrieve the bag. "I can <groan as she lifts it> do this ... myself. Please ... come in." You all follow her inside - there is a fairly large hall filled with six long tables and stools. There are a few dirt-crusted patron sitting around eaching eating a bowl of stew or just escaping the summer heat beneath the cooling, spinning fans hanging from the ceiling. The kitchen is not separated from the hall and you can see a half-orc churning a pot as a human girl, barely even a teenager yet, with dirty bare feet assists him. The half-orc is rather on the short-side though broad and strong. There is a scar running the length of his neckline and one of his legs is replaced with a peg. The girls red curls are unkempt and her canvas clothes have seen better days.
Elsa drops the bag of grain just within reach of the half-orc. "Here is ... the barley you need, Gorram," she pants heavily. Gorram grunts with approval without really looking at her, he just reaches for the bag and starts to add barely to his most recent soup stock.
"Please, follow me," Elsa exhales sharply, escorting you into her very small private office.
There is no accoutrement or flair in this office - it is a workspace meant for work. There are stacks of papers, ledgers, and all the tools necessary for bookkeeping. There is a stain on the desk where she must have split the inkwell one night while working into the late hours. The only sort of luxury or decorative item in the whole room is a tiny statuette of Pellor, being currently used as a paperweight. She takes a seat behind the desk and sighs audibly, smiling at you all warmly, so gingerly that if it were anyone else you might have thought it faked.
"I really appreciate you all coming to help. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."
Tomas looks around the office with a half-smirk, half-frown, and settles himself into one of the at-best-threadbare chairs facing the desk. "Ivan would be much at home here," he thinks to himself. While he didn't like the implication that he was the junior member of the audience, as his host had sat herself first, remaining standing would have provided far worse optics. Besides, he could lounge in the chair, despite its spartan design, and make it look good; that had to count for something. After seating himself, Tomas took the opportunity to carefully arrange his clothes to their most flattering arrangement, while simultaneously allowing his eyes to roam around the office, searching out anything out-of-the-ordinary.
I figure this is either equivalent to a Search roll (so +Int?) or a Spot roll (+Wis), and leverages my history as an Occasional Skullduggerist (+1). Let me know if you want a different modifier!
Geth, roll 1d20+6 for Search
Geth, roll 1d20+2 for Spot
Mikhail walks in behind the group and takes a place against the corner behind Tomas. Puck hovering lightly over his shoulder and chuckling at himself. Mikhail shares a private thought inside the mind of his familiar.
"It's my experience that women of the cloth, don't have much left for the sheets. If you remember, the night we met that drow priestess she almost sacrificed us afterwards."
@ElvenshaeA Search check, in my mind, would be more like actively interacting with the environment. Like feeling the walls around a secret door or checking under the body at a crime scene. Casually glancing around a room looking to glean whatever intel you can, that is a Spot check, so lets run with that since I'm sure it would be terrible gooch to rifle through someone else's things (while they're still present, anyway).
As Tomas took in his surroundings, he noticed that a few papers and ledgers have names on them other than Lost Hope Mission. Cecillia d'Flouer Foundation, Redemption Brigade, Youngling Network ... That's quite the workload, bookkeeping of so many charities. And she seems so young to have so much responsibility thrust upon her.
Given the importance of Inigo Sharpe, and her role in attempting to locate him, I'm going to proceed on the assumption that she's very well connected and probably more than just a simple woman of the cloth, rather than "dirty" and running lots of fake charities.
"I really appreciate you all coming to help. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."
Tomas waves a hand diffidently. "There is no doubt much you can do for us, of course, but what is most important is what you have asked us to do for you. I am ... familiar ... with the work that our missing friend was undertaking before his current, unfortunate circumstances. As such, any information you can provide on avenues already explored, dead ends already met, rocks already overturned, would no doubt accelerate our efforts."
"Oh, right," Elsa remembers. "I've got a file around here somewhere..."
She starts to rummage through her drawers looking for the documents. You can hear glass clinging together when she opens one drawer, swearing she must have put it somewhere. In her search Elsa knocks over a stack of books and rushes to gather then up, seeming quite flustered.
"Oh, here it is..." she holds it over her shoulder. She chuckles at herself. "It was between these ledgers.
"Let's see," she muses, taking a pair of spectacles out from the center drawer. "Mr. Sharpe was a prominent member of the court. Central to the Dragon Empire's infrastructure. Mm I already told you all that in the letter. So after the assault on his lab by demonic forces," she says matter-of-factly, "Inigo was presumed dead. That was till he was recently spotted getting boarding ship in the Dock wards here in Eldolan. The ship's manifest claimed to be headed north ... According to this it's assumed he may be seeking shelter with an old acquaintance lives in a isolation on the coast. A gnome named Firigin."
"Eh eh eh, don't run, Marcus...you know I'll catch you. You're better at knockin' heads than jogging, big guy." Kirst's grin stayed firmly in place as she advanced upon the former mercenary. "Why don't you just let me buy you lunch, you can tell me all about the behind the scenes action down here at the docks, and I can let you get back to your boring little day job."
The lanky half-orc tried to move close enough to prevent him from dashing off or slipping past her, without being overtly threatening. Or getting within arm's reach of the still physically imposing retiree. "Even if you're trying to go straight, I'm sure you've got your ear to the ground..." She wouldn't be surprised if he was more directly involved, since his name had come up so quickly. But, maybe he really was out of the game...if she ever retired, it would be to a mansion or castle, not something as mundane as honest work.
@ReynoldsMarcus takes a step back with a sneer, appearing ready to bolt.
"Nuh uh," he grumbles, panicked. His eyes dart all over, clearly looking for an escape path. "Anytime you show up, that one asshole ain't far behind. That palace guard you escaped from with a hard-on for catching you. Last time I spent six weeks in the clink for just talking to you."
Maybe you could try to talk him down, but I'm gonna need a Cha+Persausion check.
The Crusader (Conflicted):
1d6 6 [1d6=6] The Emperor (Negative):
1d6 5 [1d6=5]
You have no idea who excited I am to eventually reveal this subplot.
Is Firigin an acquaintance of Inigo's, or of Elsa's? (This could be read both in and out of character; I'm both looking to parse grammar and get more information, heh)
Elsa seems a bit perplexed by the question. She removes her glasses as she considers the question. "I've never meet Firigin before... or, for that matter, Master Sharpe."
"Oh well, um," Elsa replies sheepishly, putting her hands in her lap to, failingly, try to hide her fidgeting. "I was asked to look into this for ... someone else. I can't really say more than that, I'm sorry!"
She turns a reddish hue and is visibly uncomfortable. Elsa is clearly not comfortable with this sort of skullduggery.
"I can tell that you will be rewarded for your efforts. And I know this sort of thing can be pretty dangerous," she reaches into the drawer you heard the glass clink around, producing three vials of brilliant red fluid. She presents them to you in a very apologetic fashion. "Here, for you. They're healing potions. I made them myself."
Her smile never quivered, even though she was grimacing on the inside. "That flatfoot's probably still chasing his tail back in Concord. You don't have to worry about him. Besides, you can do a stretch like that standing on your head, right?" She chuckled, although her mind was racing. She'd spent too long in one place, playing nice and getting on these guys' good sides. Kirst would have normally been long gone by now, but the score the Prince had promised her was worth the risk. But if that guy thought to swing back around this corner of the Empire and came to Marcus, just like she had, there'd be trouble.
"Fine, fine...if lunch and libations with your good, good friend Kirst ain't in the cards, how about I just pay for you to take a little vacation? If you're so worried about our friend coming to visit..." She slowly reached for one of her visible pouches, beginning to produce gold coins she'd liberated from the party's earlier winnings. "Just tell me a little story about a man named Sharpe and you'll be on the next boat outta town before you know it~"
I am leaving on vacation this evening. Driving to Florida - arriving on Saturday. I will most likely be able to post and keep up from the road via mobile. But I wanted to give everyone the heads up I may seem inactive, but I am not.
"I think I understand your situation. Thank you for the health potions; hopefully they won't prove necessary. I'll try and send any news I can back to you."
Kasben turns to leave with Bragg and Mikhail, touching the sigil of The Priestess affixed to the door on his way out.
@Reynolds "Sharpe? That guy Vitunati's been trying to find? I'll tell you the same thing I told him, far as I know Sharpe's been dead for..." Marcus sudden stops midsentence, turning white as a sheet.
"AH FUCK! NOT AGAIN," he howls as he dives into the water below the pier.
"Looks like Marcus is breaking parole, again," you hear behind you. Spinning around on your heels in alarm, you see a man with a cleft chin and long sideburns wearing a tan trenchcoat and matching hat. In his left hand, he flashes his badge of office and in the right his weapon of choice - a pair of handcuffs on a long thin chain. He begins to spin them like a bola as his grin widens.
"I hope you missed the dungeon," Zenigata churtles. "Cause today, you're going home, Kirst."
Meanwhile, the rest of the party has gotten on with the business of hunting down a boat to charter. Mikhail has reached out to the same contacts that assisted with his escape in touch with someone who owns a fishing yacht. He's a grizzled old elf seaman named Quenlin and his ship has all the modern conveniences - a magical engine, a cooling chest for fishing, an everful keg. Everything a working fisherman could want, really. As you are shaking on the agreed terms, you can all hear shouting in the distance. Peering down the docks you see a figure running, waving to you frantically. It's Kirst and it looks like she's being chased. That's not too unusual, so you return to negotiating the price. Then Bragg recognizes who it is - that prick who has been after Kirst as long as you've known her, Zenigata, along with an entire platoon of palace guards!
ROLL FOR INITIATIVE!
Fair Warning!: I do not actually expect you to fight an entire platoon of soldiers. Instead, I expect you to make a daring escape. As such, I will not be rolling for them and instead you will have two rounds to get gone. Initiative is just to track turn order.
Posts
Geth, roll 1d20+9 for Knowledge of Inigo
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
Tomas realizes that, in his excitement, he has placed his right sleeve directly into a puddle of some strange mixture of grease, beer, and detritus, left over on the table from the previous night's celebrations. "Merde," he mutters, handing his wine glass off to a floating mote of blue light, and proceeding to make several arcane passes with his now-free left hand. The foreign matter is pulled from his shirt by a pair of motes, red, and he flicks it away dismissively. After float a short distance, the motes dissipate, and the noxious mixture falls to the reeds spread across the floor.
In a more private location, Tomas will share all he knows of the situation with the others.
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
The Monster Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson
Steam: Korvalain
"I'll second Bragg's inquiry. Has our client provided anyplace, anyone, or anything to start this endeavor?" a sly smile and sarcastic tone creeps across his lips. "Or should I take some coin and employ a street wagon gypsy to divine our course?"
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
A list of things, should you be of the gifting persuasion
The half-orc immediately began shoving bread and cheese into her mouth, mumbling something incomprehensible through all the crumbs she was shedding. And there's the official contact. Took long enough. She'd known for a while now, since the Prince's intermediary had contacted her. However, she could tell this kind of thing needed skills, contacts and finances she didn't have, so she'd further ingratiated herself to the group while waiting for one of them to get word of Sharpe's disappearance. It wouldn't have been long, the way some of them talked about their friends in high places.
Swallowing, she repeated what she hadn't properly spit out earlier. "Some of us work for a living, you know. Not everyone gets money from mummy and daddy, or poofs it out of thin air." Kirst stuck out her tongue petulantly, before filling her mouth with fruit, washed down with that miniature bottle of wine she'd reappropriated. "Mff, church? Count me out. I'd rather the gypsies. At least they're honest about their lies." More food began to be stuffed into pockets and pouches on her person, as she started to shift to a crouching position on the tabletop. "In fact, if he's some egghead, I bet I know where to look for books and scrolls and stuffed owls that have, you know, fallen off the back of a cart."
Kirst tumbled across the table, over or between the various items laid out, landing on her feet to loom over Tomas. "You guys love that kinda boring stuff, right, right? Eh? Right?" Each question was accompanied by a raise of her eyebrows, mohawk wobbling, as she elbowed the wizard in the side. She only stopped when she had to try to shoo the flittering Puck away from her. "Quit it, squirt!"
He swoops the spear over his and her head, catching her across the small of her back. For a second his face is rather close to hers. She immediately turns bright red. "Careful Molly... the lunch rush is no reason to cause an accident." he talks through his smile. She is quite taken aback for a second, before catching her self blushing and righting herself. Mikhail removes the bar of the spear from across her back and leans on it like a walking stick.
Geth roll 1d20+4+3 for 'Charming' (Oh brother...)
4 for CHA, and +3 for Child of the Elven Court. Because Mikhail has learned to swoon his fair share of court Debutantes. Dangerous, exotic and dashingly handsome. Right? Right?
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
"Nice try, snake charmer," Molly chortles. "That might work better on blushing noble daughters, but not working women."
She turns to walk away, pausing for just a moment to look over her shoulder and size up Mikhail. She looks him up as if Molly were purchasing a side of hog at the market. She hugs her tray to her chest and turns her head forward. "I wouldn't say 'no' to a drink some night if you think you have the stones," she says casually to the wind, walking away with a bit more sash in her shay than usual.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The party arrives at the Lost Hope Mission, located on the corner of Griffin square and beneath the cliffs of the Temple district above. It is a modest hall, with a sign hanging above with the symbol of Pelor, god of the sun and harvest, emblazoned on it. As you approach from the square, you seem a very tall, easily six-foot three-inches, half-elven woman carrying a thirty-pound bag of barley in her arms with quite some difficulty. She is a robust young lady whose white and gold trim vestment do little to hide her wide hips and top heavy nature. Her platinum hair is combed over on of her right violet eye. Just before the door she drops the heavy sack and kneels to catch her breath. She wipes her forehead with her sleeves she glances over to the approaching party and smiles excited, standing back up to wave eagerly.
"Kasben," Elsa calls out excited. "It so good to see you! I'm glad you got my letter."
@Reynolds Since you have little interest in visiting the Lost Hope Mission, why don't you tell me about where you're going, what you're doing, and give me an Icon roll.
Did anyone else want to come along?
Do I need to do all three rolls again? Or a particular one?
Geth, roll 1d6 for The Crusader (Conflicted)
Geth, roll 1d6 for The Emperor (Negative)
Geth, roll 1d20+5+3 for Getting Wise To The Streets
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
The Monster Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson
Steam: Korvalain
Turning and gesturing to each of the remaining companions, Kasben introduces them. "Mikhail would never turn down a request from a lady, though sometimes I daresay his charisma gets him in trouble more than it serves his purposes. Tomas indicated privately on the way over here that he's at least acquainted with Inigo's works in the Empire, and has concern over the disappearance of one of this Age's greatest engineers; no doubt you've heard the rumors about his new project as well. And Bragg won't say no to even the remotest chance that he gets to knock some heads together. We've got another in our group, but they were...less enthused about visiting a holy place. But I figure some outside intel can't hurt either, so we'll meet up with them later. They're good people, though."
Kasben turns back to Elsa, interested in business but not oblivious to the current state of things. "We came hoping you could tell us more about Inigo's disappearance, but first thing's first - did you need any help with these supplies?"
A list of things, should you be of the gifting persuasion
Returning to the Docks Ward you move to the warehouse district. It's there that you find your target unloading crates - Marcus Holt, a former mercenary. His shirtless form reveal a mess of tangled scars and tight sinews, extending to his face were one eye is clearly dead and his mouth is split open by scarring. He sees you grin at him with his one good eye.
"Ah shit..." he snears dropping the crate he is currently carrying.
1d6 6 [1d6=6]
The Emperor (Negative):
1d6 5 [1d6=5]
Puck pokes Mikhail's cheek. "Hey," he whispers with a snicker, "you should try again with this one. It's the good girls that are the dirtiest, ya know?"
"Oh, no," Elsa says embarrassedly, hastily leaning back over to retrieve the bag. "I can <groan as she lifts it> do this ... myself. Please ... come in." You all follow her inside - there is a fairly large hall filled with six long tables and stools. There are a few dirt-crusted patron sitting around eaching eating a bowl of stew or just escaping the summer heat beneath the cooling, spinning fans hanging from the ceiling. The kitchen is not separated from the hall and you can see a half-orc churning a pot as a human girl, barely even a teenager yet, with dirty bare feet assists him. The half-orc is rather on the short-side though broad and strong. There is a scar running the length of his neckline and one of his legs is replaced with a peg. The girls red curls are unkempt and her canvas clothes have seen better days.
Elsa drops the bag of grain just within reach of the half-orc. "Here is ... the barley you need, Gorram," she pants heavily. Gorram grunts with approval without really looking at her, he just reaches for the bag and starts to add barely to his most recent soup stock.
"Please, follow me," Elsa exhales sharply, escorting you into her very small private office.
There is no accoutrement or flair in this office - it is a workspace meant for work. There are stacks of papers, ledgers, and all the tools necessary for bookkeeping. There is a stain on the desk where she must have split the inkwell one night while working into the late hours. The only sort of luxury or decorative item in the whole room is a tiny statuette of Pellor, being currently used as a paperweight. She takes a seat behind the desk and sighs audibly, smiling at you all warmly, so gingerly that if it were anyone else you might have thought it faked.
"I really appreciate you all coming to help. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
I figure this is either equivalent to a Search roll (so +Int?) or a Spot roll (+Wis), and leverages my history as an Occasional Skullduggerist (+1). Let me know if you want a different modifier!
Geth, roll 1d20+6 for Search
Geth, roll 1d20+2 for Spot
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
"It's my experience that women of the cloth, don't have much left for the sheets. If you remember, the night we met that drow priestess she almost sacrificed us afterwards."
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
As Tomas took in his surroundings, he noticed that a few papers and ledgers have names on them other than Lost Hope Mission. Cecillia d'Flouer Foundation, Redemption Brigade, Youngling Network ... That's quite the workload, bookkeeping of so many charities. And she seems so young to have so much responsibility thrust upon her.
"I really appreciate you all coming to help. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."
Tomas waves a hand diffidently. "There is no doubt much you can do for us, of course, but what is most important is what you have asked us to do for you. I am ... familiar ... with the work that our missing friend was undertaking before his current, unfortunate circumstances. As such, any information you can provide on avenues already explored, dead ends already met, rocks already overturned, would no doubt accelerate our efforts."
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
She starts to rummage through her drawers looking for the documents. You can hear glass clinging together when she opens one drawer, swearing she must have put it somewhere. In her search Elsa knocks over a stack of books and rushes to gather then up, seeming quite flustered.
"Oh, here it is..." she holds it over her shoulder. She chuckles at herself. "It was between these ledgers.
"Let's see," she muses, taking a pair of spectacles out from the center drawer. "Mr. Sharpe was a prominent member of the court. Central to the Dragon Empire's infrastructure. Mm I already told you all that in the letter. So after the assault on his lab by demonic forces," she says matter-of-factly, "Inigo was presumed dead. That was till he was recently spotted getting boarding ship in the Dock wards here in Eldolan. The ship's manifest claimed to be headed north ... According to this it's assumed he may be seeking shelter with an old acquaintance lives in a isolation on the coast. A gnome named Firigin."
"I am not much a patron of water, seas, and things with which you can't see the bottom. Can we make it there by land?"
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
The lanky half-orc tried to move close enough to prevent him from dashing off or slipping past her, without being overtly threatening. Or getting within arm's reach of the still physically imposing retiree. "Even if you're trying to go straight, I'm sure you've got your ear to the ground..." She wouldn't be surprised if he was more directly involved, since his name had come up so quickly. But, maybe he really was out of the game...if she ever retired, it would be to a mansion or castle, not something as mundane as honest work.
"Nuh uh," he grumbles, panicked. His eyes dart all over, clearly looking for an escape path. "Anytime you show up, that one asshole ain't far behind. That palace guard you escaped from with a hard-on for catching you. Last time I spent six weeks in the clink for just talking to you."
Maybe you could try to talk him down, but I'm gonna need a Cha+Persausion check.
1d6 6 [1d6=6]
The Emperor (Negative):
1d6 5 [1d6=5]
You have no idea who excited I am to eventually reveal this subplot.
Elsa muses as she considers Mikhail's question. "Well, you could travel by land but it would be much faster to charter to schooner, I would think."
A list of things, should you be of the gifting persuasion
A list of things, should you be of the gifting persuasion
She turns a reddish hue and is visibly uncomfortable. Elsa is clearly not comfortable with this sort of skullduggery.
"I can tell that you will be rewarded for your efforts. And I know this sort of thing can be pretty dangerous," she reaches into the drawer you heard the glass clink around, producing three vials of brilliant red fluid. She presents them to you in a very apologetic fashion. "Here, for you. They're healing potions. I made them myself."
"Curious... perhaps the cloth of this one doesn't weigh heavy as would seem..."
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
The Monster Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson
Steam: Korvalain
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
"Fine, fine...if lunch and libations with your good, good friend Kirst ain't in the cards, how about I just pay for you to take a little vacation? If you're so worried about our friend coming to visit..." She slowly reached for one of her visible pouches, beginning to produce gold coins she'd liberated from the party's earlier winnings. "Just tell me a little story about a man named Sharpe and you'll be on the next boat outta town before you know it~"
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Kasben turns to leave with Bragg and Mikhail, touching the sigil of The Priestess affixed to the door on his way out.
A list of things, should you be of the gifting persuasion
"AH FUCK! NOT AGAIN," he howls as he dives into the water below the pier.
"Looks like Marcus is breaking parole, again," you hear behind you. Spinning around on your heels in alarm, you see a man with a cleft chin and long sideburns wearing a tan trenchcoat and matching hat. In his left hand, he flashes his badge of office and in the right his weapon of choice - a pair of handcuffs on a long thin chain. He begins to spin them like a bola as his grin widens.
"I hope you missed the dungeon," Zenigata churtles. "Cause today, you're going home, Kirst."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@Reynolds @MagicPrince @Elvenshae @Brody @Nullzone
Meanwhile, the rest of the party has gotten on with the business of hunting down a boat to charter. Mikhail has reached out to the same contacts that assisted with his escape in touch with someone who owns a fishing yacht. He's a grizzled old elf seaman named Quenlin and his ship has all the modern conveniences - a magical engine, a cooling chest for fishing, an everful keg. Everything a working fisherman could want, really. As you are shaking on the agreed terms, you can all hear shouting in the distance. Peering down the docks you see a figure running, waving to you frantically. It's Kirst and it looks like she's being chased. That's not too unusual, so you return to negotiating the price. Then Bragg recognizes who it is - that prick who has been after Kirst as long as you've known her, Zenigata, along with an entire platoon of palace guards!
ROLL FOR INITIATIVE!
Fair Warning!: I do not actually expect you to fight an entire platoon of soldiers. Instead, I expect you to make a daring escape. As such, I will not be rolling for them and instead you will have two rounds to get gone. Initiative is just to track turn order.