Cormyrian Complications - IC

[evyldead]

Niomi walks forward, "Were here for that post you put up the the Inn."

[JanusJones]

Tam grins - a flash of shocking white in his rocky grey face - and puts a large, flat hand on the door, opening it to step inside.

"What else? If you're still hiring, we're what you've got, I reckon."

[Dexam]

"Gods' damned freakin' amateurs," Krieger mutters to himself as he stows the remnants of his lunch, though still loud enough for all to hear.

He strolls up to the door and attempts to peer inside. "Couldn't you at least pretend to be a moderately successful business that requires the services of professional adventurers?"

[JanusJones]

Tam grins at the man. "Aye."

He turns back to the now open door, shouldering his way in. "We're here. Roll out the red carpets and strike up the band." He winks back at Krieger. "Better yet, pour us a drink. All that waiting was thirsty work."

[Dexam]

Krieger turns back to face Niomi, Alaric, and the others with an evil grin on his face. "Ooooh... I like him," he says, pointing at Tam. "Can we keep 'im?"

[Kelvin360]

Coran shrugs and shakes his head. "If he so desires. And here I was worried that our crew wouldn't be eye-grabbing enough. Even if we still aren't, we certainly don't lack for personality. It does strike me as odd..." He addresses the two 'employers'. "You don't really seem to want the company, even if you were expecting it. I don't suppose this is a loaded venture?"

[JanusJones]

"Keep me? HA!" Tam, halfway in the door and stooped, ducks back out as his head snaps back with the sudden, explosive mirth.

He pats the man, who barely reaches his chest, on the head - a gesture both congenial and careful. "My mother always said you could only keep what you could out-wrestle and afford to feed - and downlander, I've eaten meals bigger than you." This with a friendly smile. He's clearly enjoying the banter.

He turns back to the men in the doorway. "This one's right - we're clearly the only ones in town who don't know how bad this thing smells, so why don't you let us in before we catch wind of it?" He shakes his head as he looks at the assembled motley crew, then turns back to their prospective employers. "Lucky for you, I like long odds. And these - I reckon they're the only ones aside me crazy enough not to turn around right now. We've waited enough - let's have a sit and a drink and a story, aye?"

[Mordae]

The flustered door-man is about to muster a response when he's rudely yanked back into the house. A slightly taller, wiry fellow with bowl-cut black hair and a handlebar mustache takes his place. "You're here for the notice, I take it. Capital. Don't mind Wilkes, he's good at what he does--which isn't this." He brushes out a few wrinkles from his blue and white particolor tunic and pulls the door open all the way so that Tam can fit better. "I'm Hamm, and this is our new headquarters building. Step inside and we can go to the study--first door on the left here, it's the only space that we've managed to fully clean."

The interior is old, dim, and dusty, with cobwebs trailing along the railings of the three-sided balcony and sheets covering the furniture. A cavernous stone fireplace on the opposite wall from the double doors sits cold and black, where it might have once given heat and light to the two-story foyer. Narrow staircases on the left and right of the room provide access to the balcony. There are a handful of closed doors leading to other rooms, but the door indicated by Hamm is open to a more brightly lit space that smells faintly of incense.

Wilkes lingers in Hamm's shadow for a moment before parroting, "Yes, please do come in. I'll bring up a cask of ale from the cellar." Then he strides toward the smallest door in the room, which leads under the left staircase, and opens it to head below.

[Kelvin360]

"Cozy." Coran remarks. "What displaced you from your first choice of locale?"

[Mordae]

"Actually, we're quite new, and this was the best locale we could afford with our modest budget." The one called Hamm presses forward to the lit side room, which is in much better condition.

The spacious study is lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, save the narrow windows on the front wall which let in a limited amount of sunlight and the rectangular stone fireplace in the back wall which provides flickering orange-yellow brightness to the rest of the room. A dozen oaken chairs bound in red leather are arranged around a long, polished oval table that occupies much of the floor. Those with sharp eyes can easily see the indentations in the pale blue of the velvet rug that covers much of the parquet floor, suggesting there was once a desk and armchair between the windows, but those furnishings are no longer present. The bookshelves, while carefully dusted, are mostly empty.

"Please, have a seat, everyone. I'd advise you to wait until the room fills, but judging from the streets outside that probably isn't about to happen. Welcome to the headquarters of the Brass Lanterns Guild, Suzail's newest--and, gods willing, soon to be most prestigious--chartered mercenary company. You may have heard we are but poor messengers with swords, but I assure you nothing could be further from the truth. To prove it, we've already managed to acquire a handful of handsomely paying commissions, and are finding that we need a bit more manpower to carry them out." Hamm pulls back one of the chairs and sits down, plaiting his narrow fingers as he rests his wrists on the table and looks over the motley sextet.

[Kelvin360]

"I've only recently arrived here," Coran admits, taking a seat with a longing glance at the barren shelves. "Is this business a common one in Cormyr?"

[JanusJones]

He nods to Coran. "Their business surely ain't. Whatever they're sending, they've got someone after stopping them who's so rowdy only ignorant fools like us show up when they post a job."

Tam waves a hand at the room, grinning. "So who's paying to shift what where? And who's stopping it from happening?"

[Dexam]

"Keep me? HA!" Tam, halfway in the door and stooped, ducks back out as his head snaps back with the sudden, explosive mirth.

He pats the man, who barely reaches his chest, on the head - a gesture both congenial and careful. "My mother always said you could only keep what you could out-wrestle and afford to feed - and downlander, I've eaten meals bigger than you." This with a friendly smile. He's clearly enjoying the banter.

"With a mouth that big, you best be careful you don't bite of more'n you can chew," Kreiger quips. "'Sides, I reckon I'd put a bit more fight than ya mama's over-cooked beef," he flips his hood back as he enters the building, revealing the two pointed onyx horns that jut from his temples. "And with some food you need t' watch our for the spikes."

"Please, have a seat, everyone. I'd advise you to wait until the room fills, but judging from the streets outside that probably isn't about to happen. Welcome to the headquarters of the Brass Lanterns Guild, Suzail's newest--and, gods willing, soon to be most prestigious--chartered mercenary company. You may have heard we are but poor messengers with swords, but I assure you nothing could be further from the truth. To prove it, we've already managed to acquire a handful of handsomely paying commissions, and are finding that we need a bit more manpower to carry them out." Hamm pulls back one of the chairs and sits down, plaiting his narrow fingers as he rests his wrists on the table and looks over the motley sextet.

"A messenger without a sword is either a mage, a fool, or both," Kreiger sneers. "Tells us about these commissions, and why exactly y'need more man-," he glances at Niomi and winks. "Aye, and woman-power to carry them out; and I'll be the judge of handsome them payments might be. While you're at it, I'm sure you won't mind allowing me to give your charter a good ol' once-over - just to make sure everything's all above board and legitimate-like." He gives a sickly grin, a not particularly pleasant sight.

[evyldead]

Niomi walks in with everyone else staying by Alaric. She looks back to see if anyone is following (Ill roll OOC if need be) and keeps walking in. As Kreiger says that she responds, "I think we have enough man power on this get together. I would love some other woman power. BUT. other woman adventurers are the bitch-y type and I don't want to deal with that as of yet. So I think me as the woman power is good for now. I mean hw hard can this job really be?

[Mordae]

Hamm nods vigorously to Krieger. "I'm glad you agree with our position. Unfortunately, by the laws of Cormyr, all weapons must be peace-bonded except those worn by licensed mercenary groups and other duly appointed representatives. This puts the guild of messengers in a distinct bind, as we're basically forced to hire outside muscle--at our own cost--or let the people with free swords poach our business. And of course there's the third option, traveling at risk; but we've lost enough of our guildsmen to criminals who can take advantage of our quandry." His eyes drift to the door as a rolling rumble heralds the approach of Wilkes with the cask; the latter man nudges it with one foot as he carries four empty wooden mugs in each hand. Hamm continues to speak while his comrade sets the half-sized barrel on end and starts to pull pints.

"Now, to your other queries. Most of our lost business goes to a couple of particular mercenary groups: the Watchmen and the Green Hand. Neither of them protested particularly much when our application to form our own for-hire order was submitted; in fact, it was the Purple Dragons who suspected the Brass Lanterns were a mere pretense. I can't blame them particularly much, but if you ask some of the messengers' guild's darker-minded members--like Wilkes here--it's entirely possible that one or more of the interlopers might have nudged the matter to the Dragons' attention. So the business of establishing ourselves as a valid mercenary group is vital to our larger interests, and as such the matter of putting adventuring folk such as yourself to work in our name is something we've worked hard at. Most of our advertising materials are torn down within a day of being posted, and last month there was an ugly incident in the street out front where a cart of manure spontaneously caught fire. But that is hardly here or there for your purposes; you want to know what it is that we're hiring you to do.

"There are three commissions, of widely varying character and urgency. The first is a call from the town of Waymoot, to the northwest, whose local rangers are seeking men-at-arms to deal with a massing of orcs in the nearby reaches of the King's Forest; the rangers intend to launch an expedition in about a week. The second is right here in Suzail; apparently there is a visiting nobleman from Marsember who our patron suspects is a dragon cultist, but the Purple Dragons refuse to investigate as the baron is a state guest of the Regent, ostensibly on official diplomatic business to gain an exemption from the royal tax for shipping spices to the capital. And last but certainly not least, the Lady Lord of Arabel is in need of assistance that even we here do not know the full details of, save to say that the commission comes to us from one of our own members--her herald, Westar, is high ranking in the guild--and it is of sufficient delicacy that Westar was obliged to look outside Arabel for aid."

Hamm pauses as the round of tankard is delivered to the table by Wilkes, and then takes a deep draught before looking at the newcomers. "I assume that you will have more questions, since that is the way of questions."

[JanusJones]

Tam accepts the proffered pint with two fingers, downing the tiny cup like a shot and setting the empty mug back in front of Wilkes with a nod and a meaningful wink.

He holds up the other hand, ticking fingers off.

"Which one's quickest, which one pays best, and which one you want doing first. That's about it."

He looks around at the assembled crew. "Dunno 'bout you lads - and lass -" this with a grin, "but if you're good enough, we may be able to split the pot and do three times the work in a third the time. I'm game for any job with some action guaranteed - reckon I'm not the sort to investigate. I'm more a hammer than a hand, if you follow."

[ScaryTerry]

"Dunno 'bout you lads - and lass -" this with a grin, "but if you're good enough, we may be able to split the pot and do three times the work in a third the time. I'm game for any job with some action guaranteed - reckon I'm not the sort to investigate. I'm more a hammer than a hand, if you follow."

Arlen looks over at the cheerful hulk.

“Can’t say I feel the same. Mysteries are mother’s milk to me – bringing light to the shadows is what I’m called to. I’ve no problem with an honest bash-up, but if it were up to me I’d want to look into the baron or the troubles of the Lady Lord.”

He shrugs.

“Of course, it’s not up to me alone. What do the rest of you think?”

He looks at the others seated around the table.

[Kelvin360]

Coran begins to bring up his tankard to his lips, but pauses and frowns in thought at Arlen and Tam's comments. "I don't exactly see a path I prefer..." He says slowly. "I fancy myself adaptable enough for any of those. So I suppose I'll make myself available to any of us who lack companionship, whether we all adopt the same task or part ways. Though, of course, I'd much enjoy getting to know all of you at once, I should think."

[Dexam]

Krieger accepts a mug of ale, but does not yet drink. "So, what happens to your little venture here if we refuse to sign on, and your recruiting continues to be as successful as it has been prior to this gathering? A merc company that can't fulfill its commissions? Reputation in this business can be the difference between starvation and full purses." He pauses a moment, considering. "As to the commissions themselves, it's possible that if we do sign on, we could have a crack at more than one, depending on urgency. Is this call-to-arms likely to be an extended campaign, or is it a quick break-'em and scatter-'em job? Who is the patron calling for the investigation into the suspected wyrm-hugger? And how long is this noble scheduled to stay in town? The job for the Lady Lord intrigues me the most - having a backer with influence is always a handy arrow to have in your quiver - so a few more details might encourage me to stick around..."

[evyldead]

"I am also intrigued by this, and would like to investigate more on this. I can gather more information on whatever we need and stick to the shadows doing it." Niomi looks to Alaric, "Are you willing to help love?" She looks around to everyone at the table awaiting their response.

[Mordae]

Alaric nods. "You can certainly count on my assistance in any profitable venture--unless my duties to the Tower pull me away."

Hamm lets the conversation play out before addressing the questions in turn. "Obviously, if we are unsuccessful in fulfilling our commitments, the venture will fold, and we'll be back to cutting our margins to pay for professional support. So we're motivated, financially speaking, to make sure your team succeeds. As for the duration, I think a single group may manage to handle all three:

"The orc-clearing expedition is intended to be a quick strike, not an occupation, so I could see that one done inside of a fortnight. And it does not begin for another week, leaving you time to investigate this supposed diplomat--provided you're quick about it. The mission for her Ladyship in Arabel was not described as time-critical, so a few week's delay could probably be tolerated."

[Dexam]

Krieger sucks on his teeth for a moment, contemplating, considering.

Eventually he reaches a decision. "Welp, sounds like we might have the beginnings of a plan, then. Before I'm signing on dotted lines for this venture, is there anything you wish to know about me?" He looks at the others. "Err, about us, I guess..."

[Mordae]

"Well, you're clearly not working for our adversaries in commerce, or if you are, our organization is doomed regardless. Beyond that, I could care less if you are servants of the Spider Queen so long as you obey the laws of Cormyr and cast the Brass Lanterns in an honorable light." Hamm grins and takes a draught of the ale. "Provided you're successful, we can probably hire some servants and provide you with livable quarters here in short order."

[evyldead]

"I am starting to like this. Well I don't know about you guys, but when and where do we start?"

[Dexam]

"Well, you're clearly not working for our adversaries in commerce, or if you are, our organization is doomed regardless. Beyond that, I could care less if you are servants of the Spider Queen so long as you obey the laws of Cormyr and cast the Brass Lanterns in an honorable light."

The teifling smiles faintly. For the Brass Lanterns to hire without references, a demonstration of skills, or even a querying of backgrounds reeks of desperation.

"I'll have that in writing; signed, sealed, and sigil-marked for preference. Do that, and you've got yourself a new partner. Then we can get down to the real nitty-gritty of the details; advances, shares of gains and battlefield spoils, expectations of service, and what-not. And more details about the first mission, of course."

Kreiger eyes the others and suppresses a sigh. Their eagerness shows that this is probably their first time doing the merc recruiting dance.

[Kelvin360]

Coran brings the tankard up to his lips again, but pauses and raises an eyebrow at Kreiger's requests. Well, we seem to fit evenly, here. We have the one who's eager to begin, the one certain to negotiate everything, the one unsure what to negotiate at all, and once again I find myself in the unenviable position of being the observational loon in the corner. This will definitely be interesting.

He places the full mug down on a nearby surface and scratches his left eyeridge. "For future reference, it may be best to start imitating the Magehounds for all of your informational needs; I'm told they have documents prepared with all of these questions already answered. You don't have any scribes left over from your, ah, glory days? What happened to all of your employees, exactly?" His tone is inquisitive, even slightly concerned, as opposed to mocking. "One doesn't acquire lucrative contracts out of thin air, and you already implied that there was more to the guild than the two of you - you said you'd lost enough employees, to criminal activity, not all of them. So I find myself wondering exactly what their duties are. For that matter, what are yours?"

[Mordae]

"Done and done," Hamm responds to Krieger's request before turning to Coran

"The Guild of Messengers has scribes in plenty, and we have pre-drawn contracts on one of those shelves over there." He gestures vaguely to the bookshelves along the doorway wall. "And there is certainly no shortage of guildsmen, even as we've had more than a dozen casualties over the past six months--and yes, all in the line of duty, whether it be muggers or bandits or orcs. Recall that, as I said earlier, the Brass Lanterns and the Guild of Messengers are officially separate entities, though we hope to share membership eventually. Members of the Guild of Messengers are officially sanctioned by the crown to carry and deliver missives throughout the kingdom, and the guild's number includes couriers, heralds, post-masters, and a good number of scribes. Some of our more highly placed guild members were able to secure initial funding and some political muscle from their patrons to establish the Brass Lanterns as a licensed mercenary company, but to keep expenses low the Company is what you see here: two men and an empty building. Wilkes and I are charged with recruiting proper mercenaries to be the seed corn, if you will, to grow and establish the reputation of the Company; once we have the solid foundation, we can deputize our messengers as mercenaries, giving them the official sanction to carry unbound weapons so they can better protect themselves from these hazards of duty." Hamm eyes Coran over the rim of his mug of ale. "Does that satisfy you?"

[Dexam]

Krieger takes a long swig from his tankard. "So, tell us about this nobleman from Marsember, then. For starters, what makes your patron think that he's a dragon cultist? And what kind of proof will they accept that the Baron is or isn't a cultist?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Knowledge (Local) roll, for anything that Krieger might already know about the Cult of the Dragon: (1d20+8)[21]

[Mordae]

"Well, the nobleman is the Baron of Moonever, a smaller holding to the east of Marsember. Our guildsman who operate along the Bluemist Trail report that there are dozens of cultists operating with impunity in the town, but there's been no request for Purple Dragon assistance to quell the activity. Therefore, our patron suspects the Baron himself is either a bought man, or a cultist himself. Proof of either would be sufficient, being that you can't prove the negative--that he is clean, that is. You don't need to abscond with the evidence, but you'll need to be discreet enough that the Baron doesn't become suspicious and dispose of things before the authorities can be summoned. Our patron holds enough clout that the Dragons will conduct a search on his say-so, but it would be an embarrassment for him at court if the net were to come up empty."

[Dexam]

Krieger puts down his tankard and begins cracking his knuckles as he thinks. Those paying attention to the teifling would notice a small tattoo of a black scorpion clearly visible against the greyish skin of the back of his right hand.

"Moonever? That's about 50 miles east of here, yeah? Two and half, maybe three days trek; half that on horseback... a couple-a options, then. Observe 'im here in Suzail and see if he gets up to anything blatantly Cult-ish; or hoof it to Moonever and have a poke around while he's not home. First option has less chance of paying off; second option carries the risk of spooking the Cultists into hiding any evidence of their activities if we slip up, which means the Baron can deny anything thrown at 'im." He raises a slightly condescending eyebrow at Hamm. "Sound about right, yeah?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Quick question regarding time-keeping: you mentioned earlier that the orc campaign starts in about a week - are you using the Faerun tenday? Or did you mean 7 days?