Printable View
Quintus, Half-Elf Warlock
"I will agree it would be quite a treat to set my eye once again on print - I shall accompany you to the library. And I wonder, Jon... Do I have any means of acquiring a telescope?"
Though still suspicious of their position at the moment, Quintus sees no reason to resist the opportunities presented therein.
Brathios, Human Fighter
Brathios takes a seat at the bar, staring intently at the barman
I'd like a meal, and a drink, and, if you could, a whetstone.
Brathios sits at the bar, speaking to the barman when able
SpoilerI'll roll a streetwise check here, might as well [roll0]
After he finishes his meal, his drink, and his conversation, he heads to a quiet corner, and either relaxes, or sharpens his sword, if he got a whetstone. If there's enough time, I'd also like to rest somewhere.
-edit- Spend two healing surges. yeah, forgot to do that.
Tar-va'tyrr, Drow Rogue
Tar-va'tyrr leans closer to Jon.
I'm not interested in any wenches but do you where I could get any relaxing...
Tar-va'tyrr shoots Jon a sly look and in a hushed voice says special herbs?
Quintus, Half-Elf Warlock
Quintus' ears perk up - "Actually... Tar if you could acquire some of those herbs for me... I'd be thankful. On to the library!"
Quintus hasn't suffered a nightmare since going to jail, but he suspects it may resume as he begins life aboveground once again. In the past he tried many remedies for curing his terrors, and has no hesitance to try more.
"Odd bunch... but I suppose I kin get what yer looking for. Ye can't leave the inn so the library's out of the question, but I'll send an errand boy off for ye." Jon Bederweir says, then turns to yell at a young boy back in the storeroom.
"Hey! Ned! Git out and don't come back until ye got a wet stone, and some oil and sand, couple o' books, and a tellyscope."
The lad dashes off and Jon places a dish of roast pork, greens, and bread before Brathios. "Yer wet stone will be here shortly."
Then he says to Tar, "What kinda herbs are ye lookin' for? And don't be daft like yer friends and tell me parsley, sake o' Pelor's droopy nose."
Tar-va'tyrr, Drow Rogue
Oh, just some stimulating herbs, and a pipe too if you could. I'd like to have a little pow wow with these guys, although from their responses that may not be possible. Hopefully it won't go to waste either way.
"Least one of ye isn't a complete dolt." Bederweir says, directing Tar-va'tyrr to an upstairs room where he finds everything he needs.
A few minutes later the young kitchen lad runs in panting, holding a carton of vegetable oil, some dirt from the gardens, a pebble which has been liberally dipped in water, a cookbook, a sales and records book from the Bederweir Tavern, a Brief History of Kest (a government-distributed pamphlet), and a small spyglass.
"There ye go, folks. Enjoy." He mutters under his breath. "Buncha damn freaks, every one."
Hymath, Warforged fighter
Hymath looks disappointed at the dirt and oil. How am I supposed to clean myself with that! I am rusty from years in damp cellars, and you give me some liquid food and gravel! I shod wash you in some dirt and see how you like it!
The figher stands up, his voice ever increasing in loudness.
Fetch me a proper wetstone for sharpening of weapons, some clean linens and oil and pure sand. Now!
Kranor Firesmelt, Dwarf Wizard/Cleric
Knowing the History of Kest almost by heart, Kranor sighs at the offerings. Casting Mage Hand, he snatches the sales and records book from the lad and floats the text over to him. Instead of taking the book he lets the hand follow him to an isolated corner of the tavern, ordering a mug of ale from the nearest barwench.
He reads, sustaining the Mage Hand to hold the book up while he pores over the records and numbers. Occasionally he will take a sip of ale and turn a page.
SpoilerJust for fun, I want to see if there are any legal (by that I mean illegal) discrepancies in the Inn's records. I don't know which check that would be so I will just roll a few and you pick the right one.
Insight:[roll0]
Perception:[roll1]
Streetwise:[roll2]
Nearly shrieking at Hymath's sudden outburst, the lad runs out of the Bederweir in pursuit of his items.
Kranor's inspection of the book reveals a number of rather questionable tax write-offs, and a huge amount of cash flow coming into the establishment under the profits from "lamb chops".
After a while, the boy returns, once again out of breath, with Hymath's desired items. As each party member takes care of their own needs and desires the building slowly begins to fill. The sun is beginning to set.
Soon the party finds themselves seated at the same table in an out-of-the-way corner of the inn. The serving wenches bring rounds of ale when you are running low, and are more than happy to comply to requests for food as well.
Carric, sipping his beverage, notices something white at the bottom of it. He drains it and finds that a circular paper has been placed between the drink and its coaster. Lifting up his mug, he reads the tiny scrawled message with a bit of difficulty. Don't follow his orders. You'll know when you see.
A number of armored men, presumable Tybalt's guards, enter the tavern. They take seats at a table in the opposite corner, but watch you intently, waiting for the late hours of night.
As the hours pass the patrons, most of whom cloak themselves heavily upon exiting, go out into the night. Soon none remain in the tavern but Jon Bederweir, your table, and Tybalt's men. You hear the wheels of a large horse-drawn carriage rolling to a halt just outside the door.
Through the window you see that it is a large, luxurious red and yellow affair, with curtains over its windows. As it stops outside the men stand. "It's time to go. You have a long trip ahead of you tomorrow and you need to be ready."
One holds open the door to the Bederweir, while the other crouches beneath the caravan and opens a trap door beneath it, through which you are to enter.
"Anything ye need 'fore ye go?" asks Bederweir.
Kranor Firesmelt, Dwarf Wizard/Cleric
Before entering the cart, Kranor decides to answer Bederweir's query. "Certainly," he says, tossing the record book he had been reading at Bederweir's feet. "Hire someone who won't give a very incriminating text to an obviously well-educated but complete stranger..."
He smiles and winks at the man, then enters the cart.
SpoilerI am going off the assumption that Carric hasn't revealed the message he has received and am acting accordingly, that is, ignorant.
Quintus, Half-Elf Warlock
"No, but thank you for your service. (Giving a slight bow) That we may cross paths again, Mister Bederweir..."
Looking around as if missing something, but knowing that he carries on his back all he owns in the world, Quintus steps into the carriage.
Brathios, Human Fighter
At least I got to sharpen my blade.SighsI suppose I should grab some bread before I go, Have something to eat on the trip
Brathios stands, and checks over his gear one last time, before walking over to the bar
Spare a loaf of bread, Barkeep?
Brathios takes his bread, and walks quietly to the door, taking note of the armour and arms of his captors along the way
Tar-va'tyrr, Drow Rogue
No, I don't require anything more but thank you very much for what you've already provided.
With that Tar-va'tyrr follows the others on their way.
Hymath, Warforged fighter
This place is far to noisy. It feels nice to leave it, Hymath says, to no one in particular.
Was your name Brathios? You fought well. Where were you trained?
You climb into the hollow bottom of the carriage. There is enough room for you to sit up and recline, but not to stand. It is pitch dark within the carriage compartment, and it takes your eyes a while to adjust. Bedding has been placed down for each of you. In the far corner there are two sacks, one full of fur clothing, bone chains, and strange vials of dye. In the other there is five days worth of trail rations for each of you (except, of course, Hymath), three sets of playing cards, and some dice.
Despite the activity of the night, you find the bedding much more comfortable than your cold jail cell floor. Even trying to stay awake and aware of your surroundings proves futile, and sleep quickly overtakes you, almost as though you were drugged by the dark, quiet, cozy atmosphere.
The next morning, you are awakened by a booming voice, and you see slits of light coming through the planks of the carriage. You are above the concrete streets of the city, and can make out the pants and shoes of common citizens on either side of the caravan.
"Today, good people of Deinkos, we go to the North! The last tribes of savages have been driven to the very edge of our empire, and now we will see that they leave and never return. We will arrive at the foot of the Colvack Mountains in under a week to begin negotiations with the savages' leader. We will make no compromises, and refuse to accept dissidence!" the Archduke Tybalt says, his voice somehow magically enhanced. "May I now present our young Duke, rising star and future leader of our glorious nation, his lordship Ethan d'Ondriam!"
Wild cheers fill the air. Kest's young heir to the throne, nephew of the King, is immensely popular amongst its subjects.
"Hello, people of Kest!"
Further cheers resound. The boy sounds quite young, in his early teenage years. An experienced listener could note the slight hesitations in his voice, as if he is not entirely sure of hiimself.
"Thank you! I am honored to represent our nation in the negotiations with the northern tribes. Surely a solution will be found, and our nation's boundaries will stretch from the Felunic Ocean over three hundred miles to the Colvacks! There is a long journey ahead of us, but I am sure that the savages will see reason! Wish us well!"
The crowd roars, the wheels of the carriage (and the other carriages in a caravan around it) begin to turn. You roll through the city gates to loud cheers, and pick up speed. Through the cracks the floor turns from pavement and stone to dirt roads and grass. The carriages dash forward, heading north to the mountains as fast as they can go.
There is nothing to do to pass the days to come but wait, think, and talk to the five new characters who have come into your lives. Although you are still seemingly imprisoned, it is not jail itself, and at least you are among what may be friends. You wonder what is to come, why you have been chosen to accomplish whatever your mission might be, and what Tybalt is planning...
Kranor Firesmelt
Kranor pulls out his staff and casts light on the tip, and maintaining it so that things would not seem to dark in the carriage. "I hope that helps, I can stop it whenever we slumber."
"I am sorry for not being too forward with my supposed crime. I was ordered to be put to death for assaulting the Dean of the Kor Rabban University. I discovered he was a servant of my Lady's greatest enemy."
As the hours and days pass, when not in conversation, Kranor will keep the light spell up, save when others are sleeping, and cast his Prestidigitation cantrip to keep himself, and possibly the others, entertained.
Quintus, Half-Elf Warlock
Quintus leans in Kranor's general direction, interested.
"Who might that be, sir Kranor?"
Kranor Firesmelt
Kranor eyes darken and he stares directly at Quintus.
"The Lord of Secrets..." Kranor says quietly, seriously. "The one who walked as a man, sold his soul to Orcus to become a Lich, then managed to ascend to Godhood. He is a keeper of secrets, withholding the right of all to the free flow of knowledge and information... I will not utter his accursed name here.."
Tar-va'tyrr, Drow Wizard
Tar-va'tyrr turns to face Kranor and focuses his attention on him.
Perhaps it would be better to get to know more about them all before discussing our situation. I am interested in how a wizard was able to land himself on death row.
Brathios, Human fighter
Brathios, not being over interested in this talk of deities sidles over next to Hymath, and speaks quietly to the Warforged
I learned the basics from a fellow who went by the name "Slims", don't ask why, I don't know. Don't think anyone does, or did. And the rest I learned in the pits. You'd be surprised how fast you pick things up when it's life or death. Or, rather, most would be. I'm thinking you had a much ...faster period of training than most of us
And to the rest
Anyone interested in some 5 card draw? Doubt we've got enough cash to keep it interesting, but not like there's much else to do here.
Quintus, Half-Elf Warlock
At this point, Quintus will do anything to entertain himself - besides, he's always been a bit adept at the cards himself.
"I'll take you up on that game. I'm afraid I don't have too many gold coins but we can probably bet a few hands anyway... If you so desire."
Tar-va'tyrr, Drow Rogue
The long ride starting to get boring, Tar-va'tyrr seems interested in playing some card games.
I'm willing to play some cards, of course if anyone is willing for something else, I was able to take of those herbs I got from Jon. I have enough for all of us and I'm sure it'll make our time more enjoyable.
Quintus, Half-Elf Warlock
"Certainly, Sir Tar - I'll partake of some herbs if you don't mind. I nearly forgot about my request, many thanks."
Waking up one morning, four days into your monotonous journey, you see that a small piece of parchment has been slipped down into the cabin It reads as follows... Put on the rags and clothing of the savages in that sack, and leave your ordinary clothes behind. Tomorrow, when I shout, "The savages are attacking!", you will burst a trap door that will open above your heads and kill everyone in this carriage, except for me. Do this, and you've earned your freedom. Fail, and you'll be killed. Be ready in under twenty-four hours. -Archduke Tybalt
Kranor Firesmelt, Dwarf Wizard/Cleric
After reading the piece of parchment, Kranor frowns... "Ah, this explains a lot."
He looks around at everyone else and whispers savagely, "well you lot can kill me now and be done with it. I will have nothing to do with this. I would rather take my chances with the 'Savages' then follow such corrupt orders as this!"
It is more the deception and lies that upset Kranor the most. Lying is one of the things Ioun dislikes the most.
Hymath
I doubt that we shall survive any attack. Will not Archduke Tybalts guards strike us down as soon as we have killed his enemies, as a proof of his own innocence?
Brathios, Human Fighter
Hardly surprising. Wonder what this lot will do.
Well then. Seems we've been made into assassins. Really, I can't see him letting us go free no matter what we do. We know too much by now. But, whatever, freedom is freedom. So tell me, what will we do? I'm not going to play the fool, and be the only one to pop up, and try to stick my sword into someone. We could try to escape? If good ol' Lord Tybalt is worth his stuff, though, he'll have seen to that option being closed.