Last Breaths in Ashenport

[Felyndiira]

"Hmm, I wonder how they grow these 'local wines'," Aer pondered briefly, though quickly filing away the thought as the smell of warm food and drink clouded her judgment. There would be time to ponder the intricacies of the local agriculture later in the day; for now, food and drink were the top priorities. That, and perhaps the merriment of stories exchanged over the tabletop amongst comrades and friends.

"Ah - Josiah," she whispered, softly enough such that only her fellow travelers could reasonably hear the inquiry. "That black-bearded man you mentioned - I would love to hear more about him, if you are willing. What manner of devilry makes him such an unsavory character in these parts?"

[Firebeard]

Josiah eyed the manbird contemptuously for a moment, as Blackbeak used his all-to invasive screeching voice to call over another waiter. Hearing Aer's question though, he smoothed the frown from his face and turned to her.In a low voice, Josiah replied "The man's name is Matthias Creel. he belongs to a large trading company based out of Waterdeep. It is widely known, but rarely acknowledged, that Matthias heads up the family's...covert acquisition branch. Basically he does whatever is necessary to acquire the item or items of interest to the family. And from what I hear, doesn't worry about "legal rights of ownership" or the consequences of "assault by assailants unknown" while he goes about it. Of course, the rumors could be just that...but somehow I doubt it."

The young man thought about the intricacies and intrigue involved in the various businesses and politics of Waterdeep. It seemed that every time he turned around he ran into another strand of the web spun from that city.

[rypt]

Cael studied the bearded Waterdhavian for a moment before glancing to the highborn Aurohiim and back to Josiah. "That puts two of the Sword Coast's largest merchant families in one of its smallest towns," he said wearily, giving voice to what he assumed each of his companions had been thinking. "I doubt that they are here to appreciate the folk art."

[Saintheart]

It only took a few minutes for the meals to arrive, and they proved to be just as tasty as they smelled. Good food; good drink; outside, the rain and winds howling.

For their part, Creel and the woman from the Aurohiim did nothing to engage either the party or each other. They seemed content to remain nursing their own ales and meals as the time wore on.

OOC:

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Any chatting, or anything you wanted to do here? It's still afternoon, of course, though the rainclouds are pretty thick and black and it's still pouring outside; if you had business to transact you could certainly do so.

[Firebeard]

Josiah enjoyed his meal in quiet solitude, answering the others as they spoke to him, but for the most part keeping to himself. It was how he preferred things, usually. Oh, he didn't mind interacting with other people - as long as they didn't judge him openly for his life's calling - but there was always an undercurrent of unease that tended to push the young man inside himself. Of course, with this crew it is a little different. How could it not be with a kenu, a catfolk, and all of us 'itinerant advunturers'? This is about as far from usual as it gets. Finishing his food, he winked at the buxom serving wench and waved his hand in front of his mouth as if it were on fire, then tossed back his ale and gestured for another. He didn't intend to get roaring drunk tonight, but he wasn't going to suffer this weather and the smell of a fishing town without some form of liquid fortification, either.

[rypt]

Cael made short work of his kingmaker, adeptly removing the fish's delicate bones and stacking them on side of his plate. He did not speak much while he ate, but after finishing, he conversed with the others for as long as it took him to finish his beer. Once his mug was empty, he excused himself from the table and approached the bar, clearing his throat as he came to lean against the counter. "Sir," he called to the heavy-set barkeep, flipping a coin idly along the tops of his fingers. "Have you four empty beds?" He gestured back toward the group's table. "We'll be needing accommodations at least until the trade fair begins."

OOC:

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If there's some other area of the inn that would have seemed more appropriate for Cael's inquiry, assume that he went there instead.

[CockroachTeaParty]

It is always interesting to watch a kenku eat, especially for those unfamiliar with them. A beak is most definitely not a mouth with teeth. Blackbeak tears at his food, only using utensils to portion morsels easily plucked in their entirety by a swift peck. He does not chew either, but swallows each bite whole, to be ground in his gizzard later. He handles his wine glass with surprising ease (practice makes perfect), delicately manipulating the glass with sharp claws and beak such that he does not leave a single scratch. Despite the manual dexterity required of these tasks, he eats very quickly, perhaps even daintily.
Afterwards, he pats his stomach and clacks his beak satisfactorily.
"Well, at least the food ain't bad here. Anyone up for a game of chance? Dice? Cards? The finger dance?"

[Saintheart]

When Cael's inquiry with the barkeeper went somewhat unanswered, he turned instead to one of the wait staff -- the tall man, this time, the one who'd called the barkeeper "Pioter" -- who passed by.

"Four empty beds?" repeated the man. "Actually, yes, we do. You're lucky; that'll be about the last beds in the place. And you're here for the trade fair -- good! This storm might keep it off for a day or so, but it was due to start tomorrow. Anything in particular bringing you out here?"

Meanwhile, back at the table, the twentysomething man with delicate hands had lifted his head at Blackbeak's last words, his face brightening. He beckoned at his two guardsmen with himself and made his way across to the party's table. "Thank Tymora watching over lost and forlorn gamblers!" he said. "You pardons, saer -- kenku? Did I catch you to say you were seeking a game of chance? If so, by all the gods with an interest in luck, I beg you -- let me take a round with you. Nobody else in this gods-cursed inn seems to know or want to stake. Do you honour the Talis, or is it Old Man's Bones?"

OOC:

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All of you would know "honour the Talis" as a query whether you know the card game played with a Talis Deck -- a deck of 78 cards, similar to a Tarot deck. It can be played with a number of rules and variations, but it's basically the highest value of the cards in hand after two rounds wins - similar to poker.

All of you would also know Old Man's Bones is similar to the modern game of pick-up sticks, the object of the game being to remove the bones from the pile you have dumped them into one at a time without toppling the pile. (The bones are usually made from a fowl)

.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Blackbeak snaps a finger crisply, spreading his arms wide.
"Your prayers have been answered! I enjoy a good game of Talis myself. Come, sit, be welcome. Maybe we can make the hours pass by quicker if something real is at stake?"

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How would a game be resolved? A profession (gambling) check?

[Saintheart]

The stranger's hands twitched, even as his smile grew wry. "What did you have in mind, saer?"

OOC:

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Pretty much, though let's call it best of three roll-offs. Feel free to go wild IC with plays, strategies, rules variations, etc -- even name cards in the deck if you want, it's not like we've got a list to work with. :)

[Felyndiira]

The girl had sampled her meal with reverie, allowing the full flavor of the fish to flow through her tongue before swallowing each bite. She had placed little attention on her companions while doing so, almost solemnly glancing at the bearded man - Creel - at every opportunity. The man was dangerous, certainly, and not one with whom she wished to interact, but there was always a sort of fancy - an air of mystery, if you will - surrounding people of such great renown. A bit disappointing, it was, that Josiah did not seem to know too much about him; she would have gladly added his story to her collection of things she wishes to understand.

She finished her last drop of cidar with a sigh. The inn was quickly growing weary to her; it had no excitement, dammit! Certainly, the fish was a delight to the mouth and the cidar was quite tasteful, although there was a distinct lack of rowdiness that she had almost expected from such a human establishment. Where are the drunken dwarves dancing on tables? The laughter and stories from veteran mercenaries that would resound across the room? The rawdy and tense gambling? Ah...

"Did I catch you to say you were seeking a game of chance?" Aer's cat-like ears jumped up in anticipation; even as Cael reserved their night's lodgings, she did not pay much attention - rather, her eyes, almost shimmering with a child-like anticipation, was focused wholly on the game of losing money that was about to play out on her very table.

"Talis," she laughed, forgetting that her garments were still cold from the rain. "Ah, I hope you do not mind me watching for a game or two? How much are you going to bet, Mr. Blackbeak?"

[CockroachTeaParty]

"Watching's no fun! I say you join us once you think you got the rules down. Basically, you're dealt a hand, then play through several 'tricks' until the deck runs dry. You keep your hand to yourself now, unless we're playing Baldur's Gate rules, where we've got two communal cards face up. If you're dealt the Queen of Cups, you..."

Blackbeak goes on to enthusiastically describe how to play the game and several different variations, before proceeding to play.

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What's a fair amount to bet? 10 silver?
Profession (gambling) checks:
(1d20+4)[12]
(1d20+4)[15]
(1d20+4)[12]

[rypt]

When Cael's inquiry with the barkeeper went somewhat unanswered, he turned instead to one of the wait staff -- the tall man, this time, the one who'd called the barkeeper "Pioter" -- who passed by.

"Four empty beds?" repeated the man. "Actually, yes, we do. You're lucky; that'll be about the last beds in the place. And you're here for the trade fair -- good! This storm might keep it off for a day or so, but it was due to start tomorrow. Anything in particular bringing you out here?"

"Scrimshaw," Cael replied somewhat absentmindedly and with a notable lack of enthusiasm. His attention was momentarily focused elsewhere as he watched the young man, bodyguards in tow, moving purposefully toward their table. Only once he saw Blackbeak's welcoming gesture did Cael turn back to the waiter. "Do you expect the weather to affect turnout for the fair?"

OOC:

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I just wanted to mention (for when we eventually retire for the evening) that Cael will have an interest in the details of their room arrangements. Number of beds to a room, interior vs. exterior rooms, that kind of stuff. Old habits die hard.

[Felyndiira]

"Oh, no, I must insist on watching," Aer smiled, quietly hiding her excitement at the ongoing game. "I'm rather fond of my silvers, you see, and games of chance are a deal more fun when others are doing the betting. That's my view, at least."

[Saintheart]

OOC: rypt (and everyone else):

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When you get round to it, you've drawn a nice, defensible spot for your rooms. The stairs from the common room lead to the rooms above, and it looks to be the only stairway up there. One corridor about eighty feet long, no twists, no turns, solid wooden doors on either side of the corridor with a small-ish window up the far end.

However, the party has drawn the four rooms -- two each side of the corridor, one person to each room -- closest to the staircase. Each room has a window, but you'd be roughly fifteen, twenty feet off the ground up a sheet wall to get into it. How you assign the rooms is up to you.

"Not really," said the waiter with a smile to Cael's question. "Given the trade fair was due tomorrow anyway, I think everyone who'd want to be there is already here. Of course, someone could head off into the storm before tomorrow, but I doubt they'd risk that. Scrimshaw, huh? Guess you must've got Alderman Ritter's missive. Well, there'll be plenty of that at least. And not much competition for it, from what I hear."

Across the room, the twentysomething man -- he'd introduced himself as Jandal Phen, a sculptor by trade -- lay his cards down, shaking his head as the last hand came in. "Tymora's teeth! Bad hands, every draw; everything from the Dark Tower to the Knight of Five Sorrows." He grinned, though, reaching into his purse and laying out 10 silver onto the table. "Never mind; it's well worth the price, if only to get the cards moving again. Where'd you learn your cardplay, saer?" he asked, expertly gathering the cards and flicking them one by one into the small black lacquered wood box he carried. "I've not seen people bet on the Five of Avians before. Though I suppose that might be a personal preference?"

[rypt]

Cael's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing slightly. Carrinust... He pushed the thought aside and his expression relaxed somewhat. "Alderman Ritter?" His interest was still readily apparent. "No. He is a local official? What is his interest in the trade of scrimshaw?"

[Firebeard]

"As a point of fact, we are merely...acquisition agents for the scrimshaw, hired by...well, no matter. In fact our employer might well have received the Alderman's missive, though we have certainly not read it. Pray tell, if you can, what did it contain?" Josiah was in full intellectual mode now that they were indoors and appeared to not be in any danger of being accosted or choking on a fish bone. And he really was curious as to why the four of them were sent. Likely it was because they were leaving Waterdeep anyways and were cheaper than a merchant and a brace of bodyguards, but there was always the chance that something else was afoot.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Blackbeak collects his earnings, flipping one of the newly acquired coins between his claws.
"Well played, sir. I can't go giving away my winning secrets, though, can I? To tell you the truth, you mammals are way easier to read than us beaked folk. Your lips betray you, but my beak remains just as obnoxious and nondescript as ever, regardless of how the cards fall."

[Felyndiira]

A pity that the game was so...one-sided, the girl thought with a half-bemused smile. The young man - Jandal something, was it? - was quite the spirited gambler, although there was little that a man could do when luck was not on his side. On the other side, the avian could not resist making another remark on race - something that she had heard many times on their journey to this little port-town, and something that, quite strangely, bemuses Aer to no end.

"Ah, that is interesting," she replied coyly, staring teasingly at Blackbeak while she pointed to the Talis cards, "I do wonder, on that last hand there, when you had chanced on the five of avians, what if Sir Jandal had - in place of the tower - drawn the queen of cups? Or even the seven of cups? Would he have won the ten silvers in your place? Just trying to learn the rules to this fascinating game."

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Do I need a bluff check to try to convince Blackbeak that Aer doesn't know how to play cards, just for fun =p?
(1d20)[8]

[Firebeard]

Josiah smiles at Aer's attempt at innocent inquiry. It may only be true, but somehow he didn't think so. He had dealt with enough fiendish creatures who had asked "innocent" questions with that same insouciant air to believe it entirely. He said nothing though, allowing the catwoman her play.

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Sense motive check (1d20+2)[9]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Blackbeak gives Aer a wink, then cracks his neck and stretches.
"Well, folks, as they say in the business, 'leave them wanting more.' I believe I will retire and rest these hollow bones. Mayhaps we'll have a jolly time on the morrow shopping or some noise."

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Blackbeak passes his Sense Motive check automatically, getting an 11 on a natural 1.