[IC] Retrievers

Ascending the path to Grayguard castle is a foreboding experience. The castle is no mere residence. The dark walls tower over the harbor of Cassomir, and the gargoyle-faced ballistae point out to sea does not make the place look any friendlier. The maw of the castle is no more welcoming, and the guards merely grunt and gesture in recognition of your inquiry, giving you passage to walk through the narrow tunnel, festooned with murder holes. As you enter the courtyard, a simple, stout stone building bears the golden key of Abadar. Inside, the utilitarian temple is lit by heatless torches.

And old cleric greets you as you enter.
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"Greetings, adventures. Thank you for making the trip. My name is Iles Salvatar. Follow me, please". The old man leads you into a small classroom/scriptorum. Actively perched on one of the small chairs, well pushed away from the small desk, sits a fat man.

Spoiler: big image

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Seated on another chair is a man of Garundi descent, armored and dressed as a knight of Taldor.

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Iles introduces the two men. "This is the merchant Kreg Ambust, the bereaved party. And this is Sir Arem..." - he trails off and looks over to the knight, who raises a hand slighty in a gesture to stop.

He turns to you instead. "Now. Please, briefly introduce yourselves, and tell us what kinds of talents you would bring to this enterprise".

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While her dark armor...and the fact she is a goblin would otherwise make her fit right in with the grim, gloomy castle, Zorla enters with a smug grin and a confidant gait as if she owns the place. One hand rests on a dark, 'cobra motif' saber with a complicated knuckle guard and quillions, a weapon long enough to be held in both her hands. Her expression doesn't change all that much, only falling briefly at the sight of the Taldorian knight, even after she's asked to introduce herself.

"My name is Zorla, and I am the greatest swordsman alive. I would imagine you hired me for that, or you need someone to blame if anything goes wrong," she smiles, showing her shark-like teeth for a moment, before assuming a more placid expression.

Spoiler: OOC/rolls

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[roll0] A slight of hand check: she's clearly wearing one dagger on her swordbelt opposite her curveblade, and another on the back side of the belt, but she keeps one hidden, generally speaking. She'll surrender *all* of them if asked, but she goes out in public with one nominally hidden.

More importantly: [roll1] Kn: Nobility on Sir Arem, to see if she knows of him.

Who designed this hall, it is like redonkulously sinister. Vivian is reconsidering her choice to throw her lot in with this lot.

The red-haired halfling woman adjusts her skirt, leaning on her large crossbow like it were a walking stick, "I'm Vivian Drake. My voice carries a touch of magic, but only during the heat of battle. When I tell you to get your ass out of the way of an attack it might give you a physical shove to help you avoid the worst of the strike for instance. I'm still learning of course but I can prevent some damage, trick an enemy into lowering their guard, help you make the most of a tactical advantage, or make your attacks hit a little harder."

Spoiler: Knowledge (Nobility) 15

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You are certain that Sir Arem is of no particular lineage, which means he has been knighted for his personal achievements. Probably not very well connected, but probably personally very proficient.

Gray trench coat 'standing out' in the place, the tiefling, tried to look calm in the place. Inside he lamented that people with money could mark themselves as 'eccentric' instead of having poor taste.

"Roman, just Roman. Guild explorer. I decided to see what this request was about. Gunslinger by profession and alchemist by pleasure. He also modifies equipment." He SERIOUSLY didn't expect anyone to take his piece. "A happy group of guys got together, I see. The job is starting to sound good." He glanced around, seeing that he could stand out.

Perception [roll0]

The fat merchant, Kreg, rises from the groaning chair. "Friends. Heroes. My heart gladdens to see such skilled hands coming to my aid in this time of need. I..." - he seems to catch himself. "Right. The items stolen were an eagl-form cloak, a longsword imbued with light magic, and a summoning orb calling a dire wolf". He takes out a handful of small stone discs and set them on the table. The first three project green-hued, slightly flickering images of a cloak, a sword and a rune-covered orb. The other four images are of faces.

"This young elf lady introduced herself as Vesper, a priestess of Desna. This scarred dwarf I think is named Ironhand. He absolutely demolished my bound guardian with that hammer of his. The ratty looking fellow with the wispy beard was called Lemmy. And this unpleasant woamn with the sneer drew her daggers on me and made rude remarks the whole time".

"The images are recreated from my memory. I have a great memory for faces, and it was quite memorable"

Nice trick with the pictures.
"Memorable? certainly. but I would prefer a night at the heavenly inn... Desna?" Frowning, he looks at the images for a moment longer. "What do you know about their motives? What they said could be a clue..."


Sense Motive [roll0]

Spoiler: Pictures

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The mat man licks his lips. "Well... They said I might as well cooperate, because there was nothing I could do. No chance. I was already beaten, no-one coming to help me. The one with the daggers seemd to enjoy making that point".

Quote:

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Originally Posted by CasualViking

The mat man licks his lips. "Well... They said I might as well cooperate, because there was nothing I could do. No chance. I was already beaten, no-one coming to help me. The one with the daggers seemed to enjoy making that point".

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Roman made a face, I think about it a little more before answering. "It sounds highly arrogant... but they didn't kill him, maybe it wasn't something personal?" He was left muttering the last thing to himself.


Sense motive [roll0]

One thing Phanax does not miss is climbing long stairs on his stubby halfling legs. So, perched inside a longsword in Vivian's possession, he enjoys the views from the comfort of a warm sheath.
He really wanted to come as Burrata, the collie he had been possessing for the past days: he enjoyed the quickness of the animal and how it seemed to attract everyone's good intent. The unbearable power of cuteness was undefeated.

Alas, he was here inside the sword, a finely crafted one.

After the explanations, the sword spoke:

Not to contradict Zorla, she is in fact the best swordman alive, given my current state I couldn't contradict the exactitude of that claim. But I can be a really sharp duelist myself. I also bring the ability to warp space and steal -I mean- RETRIEVE, any object that you may need.

Still appearing smug, Zorla doesn't comment to the veracity of the "ghost's" claims though she privately muses about buying a pony for him to occupy in the future, if only because she needed a thought that would keep her grin going.

She does, however, get down to business:

"All right, first off, did these varlets just attack you on the side of a road or rob you in your own home or office, and had you ever seen them before this incident? I would like to know a little more about the items as well--did you mean the cloak can turn the wearer into an eagle, or does it bequeath some mummery to improve a person's...standing? And just what sort of light magic does the sword have?" She counts out the questions on her fingers, her poise somewhat relaxed looking.

"Because if they were merely highway robbers and you unlucky, there's a small chance the specific items they stole were merely a coincidence. But if they robbed you out of your home and didn't bother with the rest of your property (and keep in mind this scenario is still a possibility if they trounced you on the road,) I'd hazard a guess they needed these specific items for a specific purpose..."

She eyes the merchant with a particularly keen gaze, her smile finally dropping, "Wouldn't happen to know what that purpose is, would you?" she cuts to the bone with her words, "Because while I imagine the items fetch a high price on any market, you're clearly a successful merchant. You have other merchandize to rival these items, do you not? What's so important about these put together that you go to the trouble of hiring us? Or, you know, are you paying us not to ask these sorts of things?"

Spoiler: OOC/I hope I'm not getting us killed with these rolls...

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[roll0] Sense Motive
[roll1] Diplomacy

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"Well.... not to mince words with you, they tricked me in my own shop. Those three items were the most valuable I had in stock. The priestess, Vesper, told me of the riches that she and her companions had come into, the items they wanted to sell or trade in. We talked about what I had in stock. And the deal we were arranging... Well, being shrewd is a virtue, not a sin, and I was eyeing a very good exchange. So, that's why I brought the items to my shop from my safehold, without collateral, against my better judgment".

"She showed up with friends, all right, but they didn't match her description, and they weren't there to trade. I had a bound guardian, courtesy of this very temple, but that dwarf's weapon hurt him very badly with every strike, and he killed him. So there I was. No guardian. Me and all my charms against sneering, armed brigands".

"The Eagle cloak will transform you for about a hundred breaths. The sword is a basic magical sword, but thee times per day it can wrap you in light to let you fight like you were ogre-sized".

The sword chuckled

Being shrewd requires being ALL THE TIME. I would know about it, I once thought I was the shrewdest ant that got me flattened out.

That sword surely sounded interesting, Phanax thought, a much better vessel than the current one.


Do you happen to know where we could start our investigation?

"Work full, huh?" They investigate him well. For a long time. Had they used a charm spell? "This is getting confusing. They investigated him, got things to deal with what he had and didn't kill him..." Not to mention a talking sword came out?

He took two steps back and walked a little. "Did the objects have any particular mark?"




Sense motive. in what he said. [roll0]

Roman notices Sir Arem jerk slightly when the question of marks is raised, but he remains silent.

Iles, the cleric, clears his throat. Sir Arem nods, produces coin pouch and puts it on the table. "You are hired. I will be available here at Grayguard for the time being, should you need to lean on my authority".

Iles rolls his eyes upwards, recalling a memory. "Across the sea, the treasures be, to which ports may you hail?, follow the mermaid's tail. There's a tavern called the Mermaid's Tail. Divinations suggest you can start there".

Phanax


The sword talked:

Oh, we appreciate the job and we guarantee the retrieval of those items. Let's find these merry mermaids, even if they swim in ale!

Roman shakes his head. 'rich'. "None of you care if I take the money right now. Right? Right? Excellent." He turns back and forth with each question and receiving no objections he takes the pouch with his tail.

"Any other question?" He's going to wait to see if anyone keeps asking before everyone heads off to the mermaid tail.

Our motley band - those who agree to take on the job - soon find themselves at the Mermaid's Tail, a derelict merchant ship turned into a tavern. You find yourselves at the gangplank, sloping down towards the deck of the grounded ship. The air mostly smells of smoke and sea, as the deck of the ship is only covered by a flimsy roof and canvas sides.

Who is still here, and who wants to go first? What's your approach? Remember, you have image stones of both the stolen items and the thieves.

Phanax sensed around for a good vehicle, trying to posses passively a wrench or a busboy in the taver, maybe actively possesing a drunkard to move around gather information on their targets.

Spoiler: OoC

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Perception [roll0]

Phanax easily slips into the mind of the serving girl. Her feet are tired, her boobs chafe and she is tired, but through years of practice, still light on her feet. And immediately, Phanax notices a ratty man matching the image of Lemmy, sitting at a table, playing dice with 3 rough-looking half-orcs.

Map link

Phanax tries to actively possess the serving girl for a few moments, enough to get close and spy on Lemmy.

Spoiler: OoC

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DC 15

Vivian has her slightly oversized crossbow disguised as an elaborate walking stick. She heads straight for the bar, mean mugging a couple of punks to make it clear she wasn’t easy pickings, halfling or not. She scans the bar and curtly orders a mead.

Roman followed them down the mermaid tail. A sigh stuck on his lips. He just hoped to get this over with as quickly as possible without having to take a boat. He could already see it, a good portion of the sailors complaining like chicks about taking a Tiefling and a girl in a boat.
Upon entering the bar he felt the atmosphere. He didn't let it get to him and moved to the bar. He touched the case of his piece out of habit and ordered a pint. As he was being served, he looked around the bar. Let's see who else I could observe...

Perception [roll0]