You Win or You Die - IC

[Toxic Mind]

Kem is still in anarchy. People go about their daily lives, largely the same as they have for the past 50 years, but the threat of war, of death, hangs over this once beautiful land like a shroud. Sameth Varn, referred to in whispers as the Backstabbing King, though none who have said such within his sphere of influence live long, has sat the throne of Kem for these past 7 years. When Varn took over, people hoped, as they always do, that this would mean an end to the endless war. They no longer truly cared that someone not of Kem Royal Blood sat the throne, for all they truly wanted was peace. But even with his throne the most secure that any had been in 50 years, Sameth Varn has done nothing to change the state of Kem. So the cycle of unrest begins again. Rumors become whispers become hushed conversations, that forces move throughout Kem, and all of their eyes are on the throne.

Into this shattered and torn landscape, which to some is a distant annoyance, but to most is simply the way the world is, you step. As you go about your daily life, you cannot help but notice a feeling of energy, which seems to permeate the air, as if the world itself were readying for action. Which is why the note came as little surprise, really. It seemed like the kind of thing that would happen on a day like today. You never saw where it came from, it just was suddenly at hand, addressed to you, though the contents were not what you had expected. No matter your thoughts, clearly today was a day the world began to change.

The note is written in the finest of Kemmeth inks, a deep red that would cost even many of the nobles who managed to maintain a semblance of power a ridiculous sum. The script flows seamlessly, no drops or misplaced strokes could be seen. It is written on reedpaper, made from the Northern border of Kem near Erith, which is famous for its' swamps.

Spoiler: The Note - Liani ONLY

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The note is simple in its' purpose, but grave in its' meaning. "I know who your father is. I know why you wander."

Spoiler: The Note - Breeze ONLY

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Breeze, even the consummate actor, paled as he read the line. "I know who you truly are, Bardson."

Spoiler: The Note - Valdis ONLY

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Valdis' face became ashen as he read the opening of the note. "I remember everything. You cannot hide from me."

Spoiler: The Note - Idris ONLY

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Idris quickly scanned to see if anyone else was watching as he read the note, his skin growing cold. "I know the one thing you have always hidden. I know your past."

Spoiler: The Note - Jareth ONLY

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Jareth's eyebrows rose as he read the opening line, and the gears began turning in his head. "I can help you achieve your true mission.

Spoiler: The Note - Xanthe ONLY

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Xanthe quickly dismissed the nearby servant upon opening the note, and waited before reading any further. "Your family's loyalties are known to me. Your schemes are not so hidden."

Following each of these personal messages, threats to some, was a set of instructions. "Meet me at the village of Deadfall, which lies in the Fields of Blood. Do not keep me waiting."

Spoiler: OOC

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Your first post will take you from wherever you currently are to the outskirts of the village. You may do what you wish once there, I will incorporate it into the overall story. You cannot mess up the intro, so feel free to RP your character.

[Benthesquid]

Idris Ebonfeather believes many things. If he were pressed by a stranger to name just one, though, he would probably reply, "Anything worth doing is worth doing in style."

He moves with due haste. Whoever sent that note has captured his attention, and there's no point dawdling. Fortunately, he is already in the west, having only recently crossed the border. But once he arrives in Deadfall, he shows no particular signs of hurry.

He saunters into town, a notable figure in his dark silk clothing and glittering jet rings. Glancing about, he picks the first young local woman he sees and calls out in his Vishian drawl, "Good Mademoiselle, could you direct a thirsty traveler to where he might find a drink?"

[Da'Shain]

The candle burned low as Jareth stared sightlessly at the letter, wondering what to make of it and its peremptory summons. His instincts all screamed that it was a trap, and yet ... were it to be true, the means at this letter-writer's disposal would be considerable. Even were it a stab in the dark or a lure, though, refusal could lead to reprisal. In any event, the chance to expand his pool of allies outside of western Kem was too attractive to pass up.

Gathering his effects, he strode from the tent and into the firelight, startling the three church's enforcers accompanying him, who'd thought him turned in for the night. "Continue on to Westmarch," he ordered peremptorily as he saddled his horse. "Inform the cardinal that another noble needs babysitting." Grabbing the reins of his spare horse, he set off without another word, alternating mounts and pushing them hard, riding south at speed. As he traveled, he reviewed the noble houses of the north, wracking his brains for any indication of who might be waiting for him.

Arriving in Deadfall near dusk the next day, his horses exhausted and blowing, he led them to the nearest stable, flicking the stablehand an extra three copper pieces to tell him of any men or women in rich clothing who had recently entered the town, before heading into the inn to purchase a drink (not to consume of course, only to keep up appearances) and survey the local clientele.

Spoiler: Skill Rolls

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Knowledge (Nobility) for whether he recalls any especially rich lords in the region where reedpaper originates, who are known or rumored to use magical means of delivery and communication. (1d20+10)[29]

Diplomacy for a Gather Info check on the stablehand, giving him a description and whatever other information the stablehand might have on rich newcomers. (1d20+19)[33] (Presumably a -5 to DC for a favorable deal with little to no risk, but that's up to you of course.)

[brandnewb]

Breeze returned to his safe-house on night to find the note on his dresser. He stared at it in confusion for a moment, then grabbed what he could and left in a hurry. He thought no-one was tracking his movements, he thought his cover was secure. Someone has been watching him.

His first act was to disappear into a crowed street. He spent the next 4 hours taking round about, and convoluted paths in the darkness. He never crossed the same street twice, and tried to stay in the shadows. Always checking, then triple checking that no-one was following him. Eventually he snuck into the woman’s servants quarters in a merchant’s manor, he entered the lavatory and checked that he could escape down through the toilet. He watched the door and waited to see if anyone would follow him in. And thought.

Whomever this was clearly could not be ignored. At first he wanted to just disappear into the night, but that may not work. If they had successfully tracked him so far then he could not trust that it was possible to escape their notice.

When morning came, and he heard the residence in the building stirring he rushed to a stall.

He had his bag of holding and a complete disguise kit, so he began preparing his disguises. The first, and the one he would leave the stall wearing was a disguise as a young woman with long black hair. He then prepared two further disguises to be stored in his cloak of quick change.

He waited till the washroom was full of women before a poor black-haired lady in wearing slightly better then servants clothing exited his toilet stall. He did not say anything to anyone and quietly exited the manor.

Breeze was lucky and found a group of woman heading west and thus he began his journey to Deadfall, amongst a group of young ladys seeking passage with a merchant caravan that happened to be stopping at Deadfall.

His caravan arrived in Deadfall and he disappeared into the darkness the first night. Breeze went to get a feeling for the town before he came into the open. A couple days later, after the caravan had left, a shy young Lady, with flowing black hair walked discreetly into the street. It was not 10 minutes before someone had the discourtesy to bring attention to Breeze.

A notable figure in dark silk clothing and glittering jet rings addressed Breeze with a load shout; "Good Mademoiselle, could you direct a thirsty traveler to where he might find a drink?"

Breeze turns in shock to the individual who seems to consider himself an intimidating figure and stutters, “Im s-s-sorry sir.” He (She?) looks at the ground as if in a mixture of bashfulness and nervousness, “The tavern here burnt down some time ago, Im afraid will all the troubles we have had no-one rebuild it. Travelers have become fewer and fewer.”

Condition: If Idris attempts to move to close or touch Breeze he will move out of the way to avoid. Using acrobatics or whatever is needed.

Spoiler: Skill Checks

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Disguise, with Hat of Disguise (1d20+24)[32]

I have already worked my negative to into this for disguised as a different sex. Otherwise it would have been +26. If anyone touches Breeze they get a will save with a DC 11. That would make them realize it is an illusion and decrease my disguise roll by 10.

Bluff Check for pretending he is a girl: (1d20+17)[36] and (1d20+17)[36] I have honeyed words so I roll 2 dice when bluffing and take the better one.

Spoiler: OOC for characters

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Please try not to meta game, Breeze will be your friend soon enough. Unless you have a reason to suspect the poor girl people don't actually get a perception check against the disguise. Once I fail a bluff or do something stupid you will. And Breeze is also from Vos so he will like Idris. We are not enemies, Im just playing my character.

[Raunchel]

Lady Xanthe of Thaliseth reads over the note again. It is peculiar, truly peculiar. There is a threat in them, and she does not like to be threatened. It is vague, it could easily be an attempt to fool her into doing something stupid. But why her? Her brother Kyral has the family's titles and is known to be headstrong. Perhaps this is a way to lure her from the capitol, there might be a plot going on. A plot that needs her absence. It might also be a plot to involve her in something that could cause a scandal, to remove her and damage the family. But this might also be an opportunity. And at the moment she doesn't have much here, not after the argument with Chryseïs. Of course Chryseïs is from lower birth, but that still does not excuse her accusing Xanthe of maintaining intimate relationships with others. What does she take her for? Another lowborn merchant's daughter. Thaliseth is a name with meaning, with standing and breeding. But the shouting of last night might lead to a resurgence of the rumors, some time in the countryside might be helpful there.

She has made up her mind, she is going on a tour through the country, past the family's holdings, and there are a few manors in the Fields of Blood, justifying going through Deadfall. It will be easy to organize, she will need a few guards, the essentials of her staff and some other basics.

A few days later Xanthe's caravan has almost reached Deadfall. The lady sits in her carriage while Brise, one of her maids, is doing her hair. It simply won't do to look less than perfect when being seen in public, even if the only ones who are present are the boorish inbred peasants of such a village. They should know that she truly is their better.

[QuidEst]

Hmm. Valdis held the message up to the candle light, tilting it this way and that, and passing it closer to the heat. He also did a quick sweep over it to identify the magic, although in all likelihood it was warded. As for the subject matter… well, in spite of any initial shock (he cursed himself for showing that in case anybody was scrying on him), it wasn't exactly explicit. Either discretion on the part of the author or they genuinely lacked specific knowledge. Regrettably, the former seemed far more likely. He hardly merited attention in his current guise- Matthew Connaly, a recently hired scribe whose penchant for drinking would soon get him fired.

Really though, he should be flattered. It wasn't every day one got notes from an anonymous admirer. And such a fine note too! He smiled as he busied himself with getting ready. Were they a man or a woman? They really should have signed it. How else was he supposed to know what sort of body to wear to the meeting? His current one wouldn't do. Leaving so suddenly, he was going to have to find its original owner, a no-account beggar whose form he'd simply cleaned up. Charm the fellow, get him drunk as a monk, prestidigitate him into looking half-way respectable, and convince him to go into the scriptorium. He was more or less done with Matthew anyways, and this would avoid any investigations.

After that, he'd need to buy passage to the Fields of Blood. It might be possible to just take somebody's place, but it was clear from the very fact that he'd received a letter that he must be getting sloppy, so he'd pay.
~~~
His body-double had proved remarkably inured to inebriation, and had required a few extra rounds before he'd been willing to stagger into the scriptorium and start drunkenly trying to do a job he was already unqualified for. Passage had been easy enough to take care of. He'd settled on a jovial merchant taking a short holiday away from work. The journey went smoothly enough, and soon he found himself stepping out in Deadfall. He had the distinctive parchment with him, the corner poking out of a pocket so that his anonymous admirer would recognize him. "Ah, Deadfall!" he said to nobody in particular, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly. "Lovely place. Shame about the name, 'f course."

Spoiler: Rolls!

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If the letter pings as magic, Knowledge (Arcana) to ID the type. (1d20+5)[8]
Linguistics on the letter. (1d20+6)[10]
All magic items are magic aura'd to appear nonmagical.
A few minutes out, Valdis is casting Heroism, Prestidigitation, and Honeyed Tongue on himself. All three have a one-hour duration. He is also casting Unseen Servant, which will last for six hours.
Disguise: Your roll if any perception is needed. Should be +32 with Heroism up. Beating the result by 8 lets them realize he's not even human.

[Xunthrae]

Liani looks at the paper in her hand, confused. How did it...? There were enough things to worry about than how this paper got into her hand. The contents of the letter are intruiging, how can they possibly know what they claim? But if they did, it was an opportunity she is unable to pass. It would also bring her far, far away from her birth mother. She is already relatively close to the city mentioned. So she dons her traveling disguise, with the aid of her Hat of Disguise she turned her normally sttractive figure into that of a dusty, worn peasant man. She knew the kind of people wandering the countryside now and being a woman traveling alone was not something she wanted to broadcast. Everyday in the morning she would consult her visions about the day ahead as she traveled, asking if there would be danger, and due to her visions she avoided three different occasions of bandits who would have attacked her, even with her disguise.

She arrives four days later, and as she nears the town she uses her Hat of Disguise to shift her purple eye to match her blue one in color, while having the item become a headband, concealing her enchanted one. No need to raise undue suspision with her odd colored eyes.She goes towards the first Inn she can find, and purchases a cheap room for the night.

After buying her room, she takes out her Harrow deck and begins to do a reading, asking the powers that be if purchasing food at the inn will be good or bad. If good, she will purchase a small meal and eat it. If bad, she won't and if Nothing she will.

Spoiler: Actions

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Using my Harrow Deck's special ability, Twice per week can use augury. Using 1 now. It takes 10m to do. (76% accuracy)

[Benthesquid]

Idris shrugs at the reply and dismisses the young woman from his thoughts, though not before a courtly inclination of his head in thanks. The tavern had been his first thought- an obvious gathering place for out-of-towners, as a emre village seemed unlikely to have anything more refined to offer the travelers.

Instead, he glances about the village, seeking anyone who seems out of place. The carriage rolling through the outskirts of town definitely qualifies. Quality, Idris considers, and he idly toys with the idea of setting it ablaze on the off chance that the individual who sent his note is inside.

He eventually rejects the idea. Even if he did kill the sender- and someone with the resources to send that particular note might well afford some warding against fire- there's no guarantee that they're working alone.

Besides, to act so precipitously, before he he has a chance to learn more about his summoner would be to close off a potentially advantageous avenue. If the individual who sent the letter is useful, or too dangerous to be dealt with immediately, he can always simply add them to his mental list.

Belatedly, he considers also the fact that this carriage might be here for an entirely different purpose, and that it would likely be unwise to draw the ire of the townsfolk down on him on such a slim possibility.

All these considerations flit through his keen mind quite quickly, and he continues surveying the town. The heavyset man in the merchant's clothing is the next to catch his eye. He's not sure why at first- he's not out of place, as such. Then he realizes what it was- the reedpaper card, with the hint of deep red on it...

He moves across the boulevard quickly but casually. This man might not be the sender himself, but he certainly seems to have something to with the matter.

He smiles as he approaches, and says, "My correspondent, I take it?"

There. He thinks. Let's see how he takes that.

[Toxic Mind]

You feel a presence watching you. None of you have lived this long without a nigh-preternatural sense of when someone else had their eyes on you. As you look around, attempting to find the source of your discomfort, you can see no one overtly watching, but you do notice something odd. The tavern, which some of you know to have been burned down, and other simply see as a building that burned, but has never been actually torn down, perhaps out of sentiment, has a light on in it. The upstairs of the tavern appears to be lit.

Maybe the tavern isn't such a bad place to start your search after all?

Spoiler: Jareth

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The stablehand tells you that a carriage has been seen on the outskirts of the village, and that a caravan of traders had come through a few days ago. Other than that, he hasn't noticed anything strange. He thanks you for your coppers, and heads on his way, making a quick sign to Avarin.

[Xunthrae]

Liani looks up from her cards mid-read. She glances out of the window, and something draws her attention to the remains of the tavern. It was getting late and the sun was going down. So the light in the second story room drew her attention. Isn't the tavern supposed to be unoccupied? She doesn't have the time to do her usual reading before she goes and investigates, so she closes her eyes and focuses her mind. If any other patrons are watching the young, beautiful woman they will see her eyes go completely white as she stiffens during the vision. She is searching for any advice or warnings about what may happen should she investigate the odd light.

Spoiler: Action

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Using "Gift of Prophecy (Su)" from my Seer archetype to use the divination spell at a 90% effectiveness about going and investigating the tavern.

[QuidEst]

He was being approached. Lanky fellow, dark hair. Valdis memorized his features, since it seemed like a useful enough face. Correspondent… that was very open-ended. No casually greeting him by his real name, which is what he'd expect if the author had genuine knowledge of him. So had the author been taking a stab in the dark? Then why did he get the letter in the first place? Simply not providing a demonstration? Still more likely. Although, correspondent could be the sender or receiver. If there was a distinction when there hadn't been a reply, he couldn't say which way it went with any certainty. But which was it? Well, if the author knew him, then the author knew him to be a liar, so lying would do no harm. If this was not the author, then lying would… well, he wasn't sure exactly. But the person recognized the letter, so if he wasn't the author, there must be more. And if it was the author but the author didn't know anything, then this was the wrong person showing up with the letter. Aha! That was it. That was how to answer this without confirming or denying which side he was falling on.

"In a sense. I have been sent as an intermediary. I hope you'll appreciate that my employer values a certain amount of discretion in these matters. I have a copy of your letter here as proof that I am acting on his behalf." The letter began rising from his pocket on its own, and he plucked it from the air, holding it by the part that seemed most specific and presenting it with undercurrents of suggestion to make it appear like the correct letter.

Spoiler: Crunch

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Bluff about being an intermediary: (1d20+22)[29]
Prestidigitation is active, so he levitates the letter slowly for dramatic effect before grabbing it.
Power of Suggestion allows him to present the letter as Idris's letter for one minute. The check should be bluff DC 20, since they're very similar. (1d20+22)[31] (Effectively automatic.)

… and GM post shows up. XD

"Still, I'm sure this would be better discussed elsewhere. Shall we?" he said, gesturing to the burnt tavern with a light.

[brandnewb]

The young lady looks away bashfully when Idris nods his thanks, expressing all the mannerisms of an insecure country girl unsure of herself, especially when addressed by a dashing and aristocratic swordsman . The young lady begins walking again after a few moments. However now she alters her path enough to keep Idris in eye and ear-shot. As Idris begins talking to the merchant the poor girl’s coin purse ‘accidentally’ breaks loose. 4 or 5 copper pennies spill onto the ground as the purse lands in the dirt. She bends over about 15ft from the pair to collect the coins, discreetly watching and listening to the conversation.
Her interest is peaked when she sees the letter with red writing, and hears the Merchant say: "In a sense. I have been sent as an intermediary. I hope you'll appreciate that my employer values a certain amount of discretion in these matters. I have a copy of your letter here as proof that I am acting on his behalf."
The lady reaches for her purse and places a coin inside, she glances at the tavern when the merchant suggests the two go there.

She will finish picking up the coins without rushing. If their conversation continues too long, she will start walking in the general direction of the tavern to avoid being suspicious. If they start walking within the next 2 min she will follow them at a distance. In either situation she will not be heading toward the front entrance of the burnt tavern, but will aim toward a spot where she can approach the building from the shadows.

Spoiler: Bluff drop coins

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To fake that droping my purse was a honest mistake. Rogue trick lets me pick whichever is better. (1d20+17)[33] (1d20+17)[34]

[Benthesquid]

In spite of himself, Idris is impressed. The heavyset man acquits himself well, so much that, while he confirms Idris's suspicion that he is involved in the Affair of the Letters, Idris is left with absolutely no real information as to who the sender might be- or even if the employed the other man refers to is the sender or another recipient.

It is, he considers, fair enough. After all, one can hardly hope to play chess with the fates of nations and not expect one's wits to be tested.

With still a friendly smile, he turns towards the light in the tavern. "As you say- this may be a discussion for closed doors. I'm most interested to hear what your employer has to say. By all means, lead the way."

As a gambit goes, this is neither the most daring nor the most subtle, but whether the heavyset merchant is willing to turn his back will add a little more to the scant scrapings of information he has about this whole matter.

[Raunchel]

Xanthe's caravan rides into the village. She hates being here in the country, the people are so dull and they simply don't know what life is like. She pulls one of the curtains slightly outside to see her surroundings. She shivers, the buildings are old, the people poorly dressed and it's far too empty. There even is a ruin that attracts her eye. Why oh why couldn't she just be invited to a civilized place? She sighs.

At least her timing was right, the delays of the extra bath this morning have been sufficient to ensure the arrival in this, this nowhere at the right time for a meal. And that will be a perfect excuse for a stop here. And she is right, her people are so predictable. One of the guards pulls aside to the carriage and briefly speaks to Brise. She in turn says: "My lady, they offer their appologies for the delays on your schedule, it is noon already. They request a halt to refresh the horses and eat something."

"Yes, give them permission. This seems like a quaint little place and it looks so romantic. They even have a ruin. I simply love ruins. We simply have to go there.", the part about the ruins is true, but Xanthe's preference goes to older ones, the classical ruins. They make for wonderful places to meet her friends, such a great backdrop for walks.

A little later everything is in order and Xanthe of Thaliseth steps from her carriage, into the sunlight. Thyrille holds a parasol for her, to protect her mistress from the sunlight. Her skin is far too delicate for the direct light. Two footmen go ahead of her and two more are behind the lady, she has to be kept safe, even though she is well-known to do many foolish things. But that might also be the reason why they are always ready to follow her wishes. She puts up her perfect smile and looks at the villagers. They will certainly be awed to see someone like her. They simply have to be. She exclaims: "Oh! What a lovely little village! Falldead isn't it? It seems like a perfect place to spend a little time!"

[Toxic Mind]

To Xanthe's surprise, there are only about 7 villagers assembled, though one is clearly the elder. One of the men begins to raise his hand to correct Xanthe, but is quickly silenced. "Welcome to our humble village, Lady." The elder says. He is an old man, his face worn by years of living, but he walks with purpose and his back is unbowed. "The Inn has good accommodations. The Tavern burned down a few years ago, and we have not the money to repair it, but those are the only ruins around here, except for the battlefield." Such a fact was obvious to Xanthe. Deadfall was in the center of the Field of Blood, and despite the deadly war fought here, managed to survive even still.

[Raunchel]

To Xanthe's surprise, there are only about 7 villagers assembled, though one is clearly the elder. One of the men begins to raise his hand to correct Xanthe, but is quickly silenced. "Welcome to our humble village, Lady." The elder says. He is an old man, his face worn by years of living, but he walks with purpose and his back is unbowed. "The Inn has good accommodations. The Tavern burned down a few years ago, and we have not the money to repair it, but those are the only ruins around here, except for the battlefield." Such a fact was obvious to Xanthe. Deadfall was in the center of the Field of Blood, and despite the deadly war fought here, managed to survive even still.

Only seven? What a pitifully small crowd. The locals certainly don't know who she is. And that is unacceptable, Xanthe of Thaliseth should be known by everyone. She could almost cry, but not in public. In pulic she will always be the perfectly happy and smiling lady. "I will certainly visit the battlefield, several of my relatives fought there and it is one of those most famous places. I am delayed already, Bradar, send word to Stokesfield hall that my arrival will not be until tomorrow at the earliest. I want the best rooms of this inn and a guide for a little tour of the battlefield later this day. Have a lunch prepared, I will now take a look at that lovely ruin over there."

Spoiler: OOC

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Xanthe is a bit of a cross between Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian, so she is a complete airhead and might make some very, very stupid remarks. One of her main talents is attracting a serious lot of attention.

And knowledge(history) about the battle: (1d20+7)[27]

[brandnewb]

The Young lady (Breeze) begins walking away at an angle. Having picked up her coins she could not justify lingering any longer. A carriage pulls up and a noble woman of some type exits, the girl examines the noble woman who is looking toward the tavern. The young lady begins approaching the throng of people watching. The girl stops to the side, and does not immerse herself in the group. After listening to the conversation and the noble lady’s intent to see the tavern, the girl moves around the edge of the small group of gawkers so that when the noble moves to the Tavern she will be in the path.

She then joins the onlookers in the fascinated intrigue of simple country folk admiring their “betters”

When/if the noble lady passes the girl she will take a timid and ‘unpracticed’ curtsy saying “M-m-m-lady.” with a nervous stutter.

[Da'Shain]

After taking the measure of the small village's inn and finding it wanting, Jareth begins to stalk from the inn's common room back out into the dwindling sunlight. His progress is arrested as his eyes light on the woman who recently entered; he hadn't given her much thought, but now she has what appears to be a Harrow deck laid out in front of her, doing a reading. A rare talent, and rarer still to find in an inn in a dying town. As he watches, she turns to look out the window and seems surprised. He follows her gaze to the tavern's second story, and furthermore to the small gathering moving toward it. Well then, he thinks, all the lines seem to be meeting there.

Glancing back at the harrower, he sees her eyes seemingly roll back into some sort of trance, likely prompted by what she just saw. It seemed unlikely the letter writer would be cooling her heels in an inn, prophecizing openly to herself. But it seemed equally unlikely that she was entirely unrelated. Though his instincts told him the tavern light signaled the person he was meeting, he was loath to arrive having learned nothing about the situation.

Instead of simply observing, Jareth decides on a more direct approach. He sauntered over to the seer and pulled up a chair next to her, adjusting the high collar of his slightly travel-worn, tailored tunic as he sat down. When her eyes returned to the present, he cleared his throat. "Well met, miss," he says, his expression blank as he flicks his eyes down to the open deck. "Tell me, is Deadfall's future brighter than its past?"

[Xunthrae]

He sauntered over to the seer and pulled up a chair next to her, adjusting the high collar of his slightly travel-worn, tailored tunic as he sat down. When her eyes returned to the present, he cleared his throat. "Well met, miss," he says, his expression blank as he flicks his eyes down to the open deck. "Tell me, is Deadfall's future brighter than its past?"

Liani looks at the man, startled at first, but recovers quickly as she comes out of her trance. Liani calmed herself before speaking. "I wouldn't know. Who can say, for sure what the future holds for each of us." The edge of her lips curl slightly up. She couldn't help herself, the opportunity is rare when she can make small jokes about predicting the future."May I have the pleasure of your name?" She takes in his appearance. Hmm, older, religious headband. Some kind of priest of Avarin? They are typically the only ones here. She hopes he doesn't take her trance and harrow cards as a sign she worships Vix. Common folk, and especially the church can be quite intolerant of her worship.

[QuidEst]

As they headed towards the inn, Valdis paused. "Before we enter, though, I'm afraid I'll need some similar confirmation on your part," he said. If this wasn't the sender, the real one would be around soon enough. It was best to get something now in case he ran out of time. "It's not hard to look like somebody, but the letter- that was quite distinctive." He looked at green-eyed man expectantly.

[Raunchel]

The Young lady (Breeze) begins walking away at an angle. Having picked up her coins she could not justify lingering any longer. A carriage pulls up and a noble woman of some type exits, the girl examines the noble woman who is looking toward the tavern. The young lady begins approaching the throng of people watching. The girl stops to the side, and does not immerse herself in the group. After listening to the conversation and the noble lady’s intent to see the tavern, the girl moves around the edge of the small group of gawkers so that when the noble moves to the Tavern she will be in the path.

She then joins the onlookers in the fascinated intrigue of simple country folk admiring their “betters”

When/if the noble lady passes the girl she will take a timid and ‘unpracticed’ curtsy saying “M-m-m-lady.” with a nervous stutter.

Xanthe walks towards the tavern, still shielded from the sun. It isn't a very nice ruin, but something tells her that it would be useful to take a look there. Luckily her whole life is an act, and pretending to be interested in something is all too easy. It's what she always does. A girl appears before her, how dares she! Thse peasants should know that they should never ever cross paths with a proper lady. Her curtsy is completely wrong, where do these mongrels learn their manners? Even the lack of civilization here is not a sufficient excuse. Why oh why did she deserve this letter?

Then the girl addresses her. Perhaps she is in disguise, and actually is the contact? Or maybe she just works for these strangers, noone in their right mind would dress and act like that, even when forced to do so. And there would be other, better options for such things. This whole affair is a senseless exercise and takes far too much of her precious time. She could also have been organizing a nice little party or taking nice little walks with her friends. But no, she has to waste her time in this terribly dull countryside. Nevertheless she keeps smiling, even at the girl. For a moment she lets their eyes meet. Her own eyes show nothing, they lack any hint of intellect. She says: "Are you to be my guide?" as she continues towards the tavern.

[brandnewb]

The noble lady asks the girl (Breeze); "Are you to be my guide?". The girls pauses for a second, glancing at the other figures in view going toward the tavern. Then without comment she gestures meekly in the general direction of the burnt tavern. The young lady begins walking beside the noble toward the ruin without saying another word. When they finally get to the building she begins opening doors for the noble woman, following the flow of people toward the light in the burnt tavern.

Once inside Breeze will take a place in the back, amongst the noble woman’s servants and guards. Trying to blend in.

[Toxic Mind]

As you enter the tavern, it seems to once again light up, as old buildings often do. The presence of so many seems to revitalize the old place, and all around you, despite the look of burned tables and scorched walls, you feel safe and at home. But the building is still cold and dead, for all the feeling. There is no one here but you. Still, the light had come from upstairs, and despite the burns, it seems like the stairs are still solid enough to support you.

A faint corona of light comes from the upstairs, enough for a dim lantern or a single candle. The floor creaks. Movement? Or simply an old building moving in the wind?

[Raunchel]

As you enter the tavern, it seems to once again light up, as old buildings often do. The presence of so many seems to revitalize the old place, and all around you, despite the look of burned tables and scorched walls, you feel safe and at home. But the building is still cold and dead, for all the feeling. There is no one here but you. Still, the light had come from upstairs, and despite the burns, it seems like the stairs are still solid enough to support you.

A faint corona of light comes from the upstairs, enough for a dim lantern or a single candle. The floor creaks. Movement? Or simply an old building moving in the wind?

"How wonderful! A ghost! And all that for me! This is truly a wonderful little ruin!", Xanthe exclaims, her hand in front of her mouth. The lady's face shows excitement. Something is wrong, but she will keep up her role as always, bravely continuing, but not without the protection in numbers, these commoners are disposable after all and this will make for a wonderful little story.

[Benthesquid]

As they headed towards the inn, Valdis paused. "Before we enter, though, I'm afraid I'll need some similar confirmation on your part," he said. If this wasn't the sender, the real one would be around soon enough. It was best to get something now in case he ran out of time. "It's not hard to look like somebody, but the letter- that was quite distinctive." He looked at green-eyed man expectantly.

Idris considers for a moment. "You may ask me one question," he says. "If you are who you ought to be, that will be enough."

Without waiting for the reply, he heads towards the burnt out tavern. Entering, he flicks his eyes over the others present. "Milady," he says, sweeping off his hat and executing a courtly bow, "This is an unexpected pleasure."

[Raunchel]

Idris considers for a moment. "You may ask me one question," he says. "If you are who you ought to be, that will be enough."

Without waiting for the reply, he heads towards the burnt out tavern. Entering, he flicks his eyes over the others present. "Milady," he says, sweeping off his hat and executing a courtly bow, "This is an unexpected pleasure."

[COLOR="magenta]"Do I know you?"[/COLOR], Xanthe asks the new stranger. He bows better than the girl at least. But still, it is clear that he lacks a proper background, it's in the voice, in the way he moves. But still, she keeps smiling.

[Benthesquid]

"I should be rapturous to think so, but alas, I cannot imagine that my modest exploits have reached your ears. Nevertheless, it is always a pleasure to be in the presence of a lady of such beauty and poise, and you may consider me, Idris Ebonfeather, at your service."

[QuidEst]

Hmm. One question. At least that settled the question of who his interlocutor was. Quit the charade now or use the pretense of being an intermediary to insist on the letter? His own position was ambiguous still, and if this man's letter was as vague as his own, it wasn't worth the trouble. "if I am... But I was told by my employer that the letter was the only thing he received! What can I possibly ask you about except its contents, which I have already shown you?" Valdis protested. A draw then. That would have to do.

[Da'Shain]

Liani looks at the man, startled at first, but recovers quickly as she comes out of her trance. Liani calmed herself before speaking. "I wouldn't know. Who can say, for sure what the future holds for each of us." The edge of her lips curl slightly up. She couldn't help herself, the opportunity is rare when she can make small jokes about predicting the future."May I have the pleasure of your name?" She takes in his appearance. Hmm, older, religious headband. Some kind of priest of Avarin? They are typically the only ones here. She hopes he doesn't take her trance and harrow cards as a sign she worships Vix. Common folk, and especially the church can be quite intolerant of her worship.

"I am Jareth, of Westmarch," he replies, knowing that his accoutrements mark him as a priest but little more than that. The common folk tended to react more openly to the wandering holy man, rather than the seeking agent, hence why the only sign that he was not a normal priest was the ornate rapier belted at his waist. He does not smile at her evasion; instead, his unblinking stare continues to hold hers. "Pray, my good woman, what name do you go by? I cannot imagine one of your talents simply a denizen of these parts." He shifts forward in his seat, and nods out the window at the small commotion surrounding the tavern. "And it seems that you, I, and others share an interest, curiously convergent on the same day. Tell me, do your cards show you a mysterious letter?" He makes no threatening motion nor word, but his gaze seems devoid of the warmth one might expect of a traveler simply passing time.

[Raunchel]

"I should be rapturous to think so, but alas, I cannot imagine that my modest exploits have reached your ears. Nevertheless, it is always a pleasure to be in the presence of a lady of such beauty and poise, and you may consider me, Idris Ebonfeather, at your service."

The name is indeed unknown to her, which is unfortunate. But he sounds foreign, and foreigners mean trouble. He could be the one who sent the message. Anyways, there are many strange people here, and that is interesting. She continues onwards: "Very well then! Let us continue to find our little ghost! But tell me, what is it that you do, Ebonfeather?"